a ragged, undisciplined lot.  The Khan himself has a wholesome dread of his soldiery, who break out at times, and commit great depredations among the villages surrounding the capital, robbing and murdering the peasants with impunity, for few dare resist them.  The remainder of the troops, three thousand in number, are quartered in barracks, or rather mud hovels, at some distance from the palace.  Each man is supposed to receive three rupees a month and a lump sum of forty-eight rupees at the end of each year, but pay is uncertain and mutiny frequent.  When not engaged on military duties the Khan’s Baluch soldiers are put to agricultural work on his estates, while the Afghans pass their time in pillaging and plundering their neighbours.  As we entered Kelat we passed a regiment at drill on a sandy plain outside the walls.  With the exception of a conical fur cap, there is no attempt at uniform.  The men, fine strapping fellows, are armed with rusty flint-locks.  Though there appeared to be no officers, European or otherwise, I was rather surprised to hear the word of command given in English, and to see this band of ragamuffins march off parade to the strains of “Home, sweet Home,” played by a very fair fife-and-drum band.

The morning following my arrival, I was startled by the apparition at my bedside of a swarthy, wild-looking Afghan sowar—­a messenger from the Wazir, to say that his Highness the Khan wished to make my acquaintance, and would receive me, if convenient, at three o’clock that afternoon.  It had not been my intention to solicit an interview, for, from all accounts, the Khan is anything but friendly towards Europeans, Englishmen in particular.  To refuse, however, was out of the question.  The morning was therefore devoted to cleaning up, and getting out a decent suit of wearing-apparel; while my Beila escort, who evidently had uncomfortable forebodings as to the appearance of the Beila uniform in the streets of Kelat, polished up arms and accoutrements till they shone like silver, and paid, I noticed, particular attention to the loading of their rifles and revolvers.

About midday the Wazir made his appearance to conduct me to the palace.  He was a fat, paunchy old man, with beady black eyes and a shy, shifty expression, very unlike my cheery little friend at Beila.  After the usual preliminary questions as to who I was, my age, business, etc., he anxiously inquired after the health of Mr. Gladstone, and somewhat astonished me by asking whether I was a Liberal or Conservative.  “You have some Beila men with you, I see,” said the Khan’s adviser, who spoke English perfectly.  “Don’t let his Highness see them.”  I could not, after such a speech, allow my faithful escort to enter the city without warning.  But it had little effect.  “Let the dogs do what they like,” was the reply.  “We shall not let the sahib go alone.”