visible that was not stamped with the marks of sensuality, and where age had softened these, it had replaced them by deeper lines of cunning and deception. There was a look of subdued malice in one or two faces, mingled with expectant fear of what terms were about to be imposed upon Cabul. The full figure of Daoud Shah, the late Commander-in-Chief, stood out prominently from the _bunniah_-like crowd about him, and, both in figure and bearing, he contrasted favourably with the sirdars. He was clothed simply in a long grey coat, belted at the waist; while the perspiring crowd of his fellows boasted garments of silk and beautifully-dyed clothes, some of the coats of many colours being so startling as to make one almost colour-blind. There was one thin red line, however, which never moved; it was that formed by some twenty men of the 67th, who, with fixed bayonets, were standing to “attention” at the back of the narrow room, stolid sentinels at their posts. Below, the rest of the two companies were formed up, and the band played some lively “troops,”—the airs played at the trooping of the colours. When these came to an end, a little space was cleared about the General, who read out the Proclamation, by which the punishment of Cabul was made known. It was translated, sentence by sentence, by the _munshi_ of Major Hastings, Political Officer, and was listened to in perfect silence, the only token of approval being given by an old ressaldar of Hodson’s Horse, now enjoying his pension among his native orchards of Cabul. This man, with his breast decorated with medals earned by service in India, cried out emphatically “_shabash!_” when one or two sentences meting out punishment to the rebels were read, and it was clear all his sympathy was with us; for, with a true soldier’s instinct, he could not forgive the cowardice of the attack upon the Residency by an armed rabble, bent upon taking the lives of a few men who were their guests. The sirdars seemed relieved when they heard Cabul was not to be destroyed, and the disarmament of the population and the fine that had to be paid must have appeared to them small punishment so long as their city and fortress were left untouched. When the Proclamation had been read through, they were summarily dismissed, the Wazir, the Mustaufi, Yahiya Khan (father-in-law of the Amir), and his brother, Zakariah Khan, also, being asked to stay, as the General wished to speak to them. They doubtless thought they were to be consulted on questions of high policy, but their chagrin was great when they were told they would have to remain as prisoners until their conduct had been thoroughly investigated. They would be confined in separate rooms with sentries over them, and beyond one servant they would be forbidden to communicate with any of their associates. The Mustaufi fell to telling his beads at once, and the others appeared in a very wholesome state of fear. It was a startling