The Colonel also explained that should the ointment not have the desired effect, he would wish to try the efficacy of prayer. After this, what was there to be said? I bowed, refused the tea he politely offered, and begged permission to withdraw. Coming away I said to the Armenian:-- “What infernal nonsense it is calling me to fellows like that.” “Yes, sir,” said the Armenian, “he is fool man. And that Hakim! he is nothing. His _father_ cannot sit in your presence.” This was soothing, perhaps. As we were going home I met little Mahomed Omer, son of Perwana Khan, the Deputy Commander-in-Chief in Kabul. He was a bright little lad of about thirteen. His face was distinctly of the Tartar type. We grew very friendly, and he often came with his tutor or “Lala” to see me. I gave him my felt hat, and he walked about proudly with it over his ears. [Sidenote: A Day at Takh-ta-Pul.] Soon after this I went to Takh-ta-Pul, the place where my friend Allah Nûr had escaped to, in order to inspect the hospital there. The Commander-in-Chief sent a Captain--Seyd Hussain--a huge Afghan hillman, some six feet three inches high, to accompany me, so one morning he and I and the Armenian and some servants rode off together. Seyd Hussain was quite a friend of mine; he came very often to see me, and afterwards said such polite things, that the Commander-in-Chief used to call him my “son.” We took about an hour over our ride: it was so excessively hot. When we arrived at Takh-ta-Pul, I called upon the Commander-in-Chief, who was there for a few days, had tea with him, and was then conducted to a house prepared for me. I was shown into an upper chamber, carpeted and decorated, which overlooked the garden, a large square one with trees and flowers, and commanded a view of the town and the distant mountains. My “son” came too, and five or six others, including the Armenian, to amuse me. They sang songs, told stories, and the captain read my future in the palm of my hand: I was surprised to find palmistry an Afghan accomplishment. He told me I should have two severe illnesses in the country, but should return to my native land in safety. We had grapes and tea, and, at about one o’clock, tiffin or lunch. There was roast mutton, I remember, exceedingly oily, which one of my servants, the groom, had cooked for me. This gentleman, whom I had picked up--or rather the Armenian had picked up for me--in Turkestan, was a Peshawuri. He had been a policeman in Burma, he said. He also said he could make a pudding; and he did, a watery rice pudding. Then a pillow was brought, and I lay on the floor and slept for an hour. After that we had more songs and stories, and at six, when the heat of the day had gone, I called again on the Commander-in-Chief and had more tea. He wished me to stay the night, but I remembered I had not inspected the Hospital yet, besides, for all I knew, the Amîr might want me. I decided therefore not to stop.