CHAPTER VII.

"THE BAND PLAYS AT TWO."

Young though he was, Denzil made a careful toilet next day; mufti was not much worn at Cabul; but he was unusually particular about the fitting of his blue surtout with its gold shoulder-scales, the adjustment of his crimson sash and sword-belt, forgetting that these were no novelties to the eyes of Rose, and that the black livery of the Civil Service finds more favour with ladies than military uniform in India, where the Redcoats are frequently at a discount, with mammas especially; and he was on the large circular parade ground, where the bands usually played, in the centre of the cantonments (which were an oblong enclosure measuring a thousand yards by six hundred, with a circular bastion at each corner) long before the general promenaders began to assemble, or the European musicians of the 54th Native Infantry had assorted their music, and performed those preliminary grunts on the trombone and ophicleide, which excited the astonishment of the natives, who were present in considerable numbers, by their aspect and costume, enhancing in piquancy a very remarkable scene.

For the first time since they had met, Rose Trecarrel had made a regular appointment with him. It was in a very public place, however, and though it seemed simple enough to her, to Denzil the idea that he had established a secret understanding with her, was in itself happiness; and for the first time he wished to avoid his friend Waller, and was pleased to find that he was detailed for guard that day at an old tomb and temple where we had a post, at the foot of the Behmaru Hills.

The day was one of great beauty, and the air was delightfully cool. Overhead spread the blue and unclouded vault of Heaven, and in the rarified atmosphere, even the remote details of the vast landscape and of the city were rendered visible. Viewed from the cantonments, the plains of Lombardy do not exceed in beauty and brilliance of colour those of Cabul, which moreover, in lieu of the Apennines (amid which Denzil and his parents had often resided) are overshadowed by the stupendous mountains of Kohistan.

Crowning two lofty ridges in the foreground rose Cabul within its walls of stone, and towering high above them, rose the Chola or citadel of the Bala Hissar. The city is picturesque, each house having, as in Spain, an open court-yard, though the streets of unburnt-brick are so narrow as to be frequently blocked up by one laden camel, or to prevent two horsemen riding abreast. Thus the great chiefs and nobles have always footmen running in front to prepare or clear the way for them. There all the different races live apart, and the Persians or fierce Kussilbashes have their own quarter fortified against all the rest.

The groups that gathered round the band were a sample of all the various tribes that resided in and about Cabul, for though many murderous outrages had been perpetrated on our people they were still anxious, if possible, to conciliate the natives.

Each type of humanity varied from the other in visage and in costume; the fair-faced and ruddy-looking Englishman; the lean, dark Hindoo sepoy, seeming intensely uncomfortable in his tight red coat and stiff shako; the sturdier Afghan; the wild Beloochee, the Dooranee, the Kussilbash and Arab, all of whom were admitted in limited number by the quarter-guard; some cruel and sly in expression; some lofty, proud and refined, with patriarchal beards that floated to their waists, and a solemnity of bearing that made one think of the days of Abraham; and many of them armed with ancient weapons made long anterior to the adoption of our villanous saltpetre; in their dresses and manners looking like the figures at a fancy-ball, so quiet and so brilliant in colour and variety, were their flowing Oriental robes.

Numbers of officers and ladies from the different compounds and villas in the vicinity were present; and the "chimney-pot hat of civilization," might be seen amid the white turbans of the Mussulmen, the yellow of the Khyberrees and abhorred Jews, and the scarlet _loonghee_ of the Kussilbash, for Khan Shireen Khan, chief of that warlike tribe, appeared mounted on a slow-paced, lank, patient and submissive-looking camel. Perched high up, he sat on a lofty saddle, with a tall tasselled lance slung behind him, and in front a small armoury of knives and pistols stuck in his girdle, which was a magnificent Cashmere shawl, that many a belle might have envied. Nor were veiled Afghan ladies wanting, and these surveyed with wonder their European sisters, as they openly laughed, chatted and--Bismillah!--shook hands with the Feringhee officers.

Shahzadeh Timour, who commanded the King's forces, was there, mounted on a beautiful horse, wearing a polished shirt of mail and a plumed steel cap, looking not unlike a Circassian chief; and Taj Mahommed Khan, still intent on warning the Europeans of coming evil, rode by his side.

There, too, was Osman Abdallah, an Arab faquir or dervish, who had accompanied the troops from Bengal, a clamorous half-naked fellow, with hair unshorn and shaggy, his lean attenuated limbs smeared with ashes and ghee, thus compelling all to keep to windward of him, as his person was odorous neither of Inde nor Araby the Blest, while he begged for alms to send him on his pilgrimage to the three pools of Sacred Fish, kept by a holy Suyd (or Santon) among the mountains of Sirichussa; and to him, as a riddance, Denzil threw a handful of silver shahi's (petty coins indeed) but of great value in Afghanistan, where cowrie shells pass current at about the tenth of a penny.

Amid all this motley and increasing crowd, he looked anxiously for Rose Trecarrel; already the brass band of the Native Infantry burst upon the air with a crash of music as they began a melody from an opera; and something of disappointment and pique at her protracted absence began to steal into Denzil's heart, for her eagerness seemed by no means equal to his own.

Near him were a group of young officers like himself, but belonging principally to the 5th Cavalry and Horse Artillery. Unlike him, they were neither silent nor thoughtful, but were staring--some through their eye-glasses--at the Afghan women, and amusing themselves with sarcastic criticisms on the quaint figures about them, especially the Khan of the Kussilbashes on his camel and "Timour the Tartar," as they called the Shahzadeh, in his steel cap and steel shirt of the middle ages.

"There goes Rose Trecarrel!" cried one.

"Do you know her?" asked another.

"Know her--who doesn't? Why, man alive, she's as well known as Mechi's razor strop, or Warren's blacking, or anything you may see staring you in the face in the Strand or Regent Street," was the heedless and not very ceremonious response; and if a glance could have slain the speaker, Denzil would certainly have left a vacant cornetcy in the 5th Cavalry.

He turned away in anger, which, however, was somewhat soothed when he heard Shireen Khan, who was gazing after her, say to Shahzadeh Timour, that she was "beautiful as a Peri," which in his language is expressive of a race constituting a link between women and angels.

In a moment Denzil was by her side. She was in a little phaeton drawn by two pretty Cabul ponies and was alone. To avoid being joined by anyone, before she caught the eye of Denzil, she had driven them round the crowd about the band, managing her whip and ribbons very prettily, her hands being cased in dainty buff gauntlet gloves. She was tastefully dressed and wore a bonnet of that shade of blue which she knew was most suitable to her pure complexion and rich bright auburn hair; for Rose was one of those who thought it "was woman's business to be beautiful."

Dropping her whip into the socket, she pulled up and presented her hand to Denzil, who, we fear, held it in his somewhat long, and it did not seem that Miss Rose Trecarrel was _very_ much inconvenienced by the proceeding; but he forgot who might be looking on--he thought only of the brilliant hazel eyes--the ever smiling mouth.

"And you are here alone?" said he.

"As you see. Papa is busy with the General--a move of all the troops down-country is spoken of as imminent soon; and Mabel is with Lady Macnaghten at the Residency, where I am to pick her up at the gate. Will you accompany us for a drive outside the cantonments?"

"With pleasure," said Denzil, though this party of _three_ was not exactly what he had schemed out in his own mind--for he had contemplated nothing less than a solitary ramble with Rose amid the lovely and secluded alleys of the Shah Bagh, or Royal Garden, close by; but it was necessary to quit the crowd unnoticed, a movement not very easily achieved by a girl so showy and so well known as Rose Trecarrel; so they were compelled to linger a little, as if listening to the band.

In the small circle of European society at Cabul, great circumspection was necessary--greater still before the natives, who, under the ideas inculcated by their race and religion, were apt to suspect the most innocent action permitted by the usages of society at home, and to misconstrue that which they could not understand--the perfect freedom and equality, the high position, honour and character, accorded to the English lady or the Christian woman, whether as maid, wife, or mother.

Denzil was too inexperienced and too much in love to be otherwise than shy and nervous. He hesitated in speech, and actually blushed or grew pale like a girl who heard, rather than a youth who had a tale of love to tell. His voice became low, earnest, and tremulous. He could scarcely tell why the momentary touch of that graceful little hand, ungloved--for it _was_ ungloved now--made his heart thrill, for the presence, the sense, the language, and the glances of passion, were all new and confusing to him; while the brilliant girl--the lovely spider in whose net he found himself so hopelessly meshed--knew how to wear her armour of proof and shoot her love-shafts to perfection.

The band now struck up a lively air, and dancing to its measure, through the crowd, which parted and made way for them, there came a group of some twenty Nautch girls, in their graceful Indian dress (all so unlike the swathed-up women of the Mussulmen), a single robe folded artistically about them, leaving one bosom and their supple, tapered limbs quite free. The leading Bayadere, though dark as copper, was indeed a lovely girl; but her jetty hair was all glittering with missee and silver dust.

The jewels which loaded their necks, wrists, and ankles, proclaimed them attendants on the court of the Shah,* and were flashing like their own bright eyes in the sunshine, while the coils of their hair of purple blackness, were interwoven with the white flowers of the wild jasmine. Some had vinas, or rude guitars fashioned of half-gourds; and others had tom-toms or little Indian drums, to the sound of which they sung.

*Now, as in the time of the "Arabian Nights," Nautch girls are attached to all Eastern Courts.

As all Nautch dancing borders a little on the indelicate, Rose had now a fair excuse for leaving the vicinity of the band. Denzil sprang into the little seat behind her, as she still insisted on driving, and they quitted the cantonments by the west-gate, opposite the musjeed, where Bob Waller was listening to the distant strains of the music and killing the hours of his duty as best he could; and thus they escaped Polwhele and a few others who had been waiting to pounce upon her or Mabel, for they were especial favourites with the officers, nathless the ungallant banter to which their names were subjected at times.