'"Silence, Sahib! No actual wrong, but she is morally guilty," he exclaimed, in a hoarse, fierce, broken voice, as he spurned her with his heavy Afghan boot; and then, as she crept grovelling towards him imploring pity, but silently, like a dumb animal, he added, "and thus do I, her husband, punish her!" 'Then, quick as lightning, he drew, from among the bundle of weapons in his shawl-girdle, a dagger, and plunging it in her bosom, killed her on the spot. A crimson torrent flowed over her white camise, while the horrible dagger remained in the wound. I say horrible, for the weapon was constructed in such a manner, that after being thrust into the body the blade, on touching a spring, separated into three, thus rendering extraction impossible. 'This tragedy appalled me, and I looked wildly round for a weapon, resolved to sell my life as dearly as possible. Zemaun Khan saw the action, and smiled bitterly. '"Your life is forfeited," said he; "but not while under my roof. I swore to be your brother for saving the life I have just taken, though I might have obeyed the fourth chapter of the Koran, and immured her till death came; but such a process would be too slow for me," he added, grinding his teeth. "You have eaten of my bread and salt, and to that salt I shall be true till we meet among the mountains; and then woe unto thee, Feringhee! Your people are departing--go forth and join them; but their fate and yours is sealed. Go--I have said." 'All that passed afterwards seemed like a dream to me then. I gladly quitted that chamber of horror, where the poor girl-wife lay weltering in her blood; a horse was given me, and a heavy tulwar or native sword. A wave of the hand towards the hills was all the farewell accorded me by Zemaun Khan, and turning my back upon the solitary tower, I rode in the direction he indicated, which proved to be the Khoord Cabul Pass. 'Night was closing in among these stupendous mountains, which were then all covered with snow; but as I rode on partly at random, thinking chiefly that I might be pursued and destroyed by Zemaun Khan and some of his followers, the sound of firing in front began to reach my ear. It became quickly louder and louder as I proceeded, and ere long there opened before me the long dark vista of a snow-covered gorge, on both sides and in the centre of which thousands of muskets were flashing redly out amid the gloom, while their reverberated reports mingled with a most horrible medley of sound. The British troops were being attacked; I could not doubt it, and I rode on madly and furiously to join my comrades. 'This was the night of the 8th of January, and, as I afterwards learned, it was but two days before that our whole garrison in Cabul had begun one of the most disastrous retreats ever recorded in the annals of war!