The Durbar was held in a large tent pitched near the Engineers’ Park in Sherpur. The sirdars and _maliks_ rode into Sherpur from the city at eleven o’clock, and spent their time until three o’clock in discussing current events and admiring each other’s wonderful raiment. They were marshalled in due order in the Durbar tent before four o’clock, Wali Mahomed, Governor of the city, being placed on the right of the seats assigned to Sir F. Roberts and Mr. Lepel Griffin, the Mustaufi and the Nawab Gholam Hussain being just in rear; while Sirdar Hashim Khan, Abdulla Khan, and the other loyal Barakzai princes were given chairs on the right. The tribal chiefs squatted on the ground just within the shadow of the tent, while such British officers as chose to attend were seated on the General’s left. General Ross, commanding the 2nd Division, and the Brigadiers, with the exception of General Baker, who is lying ill from an attack of fever, were among the British officers present. A guard of honour of 100 men of the 72nd Highlanders, with their band, were drawn up—bayonets fixed, and ball ammunition in their pouches—on the road leading from the General’s gateway; while small parties of the 3rd Sikhs and 5th Ghoorkas were stationed in rear of the tent as an extra precaution. Afghan fanaticism takes, at times, such determined shape that even in a Durbar a ghazi might declare himself; and it was therefore only wise to be ready for an emergency. It would have fared ill with any fanatic who might have attempted to amuse himself preparatory to entering Paradise, for the Highlanders, Sikhs, and Ghoorkas are too old soldiers to care for a knife-cut when their bayonets are ready for use. Sir Frederick Roberts, with his personal Staff, and Mr. Lepel Griffin, Chief Political Officer, walked from the head-quarters to the tent; and as the General entered after the usual honours from the guard outside, the sirdars and _maliks_ rose to their feet and made obeisance with true Oriental humility. The scene was picturesque enough, and yet there was a grim touch of irony in the surroundings; for, preceding the General, came eight Highlanders with the inevitable fixed bayonets, who opened out on either hand in the tent, and stood to attention in the space between the chiefs and the British officers. Sir Frederick Roberts’s native orderlies, two long-limbed Sikhs, two wiry Pathans, and a pair of fierce little Ghoorkas, who are always to be found at the General’s heels, took up their places behind him, their bayonets shining out among the gold-laced caps of the Staff and the undress uniforms of the officers of the garrison whom curiosity had prompted to be present. After the preliminary shuffling and gathering up of robes, the Afghan notables followed the General’s example and quietly sat down, the _maliks_ falling upon their knees and folding their hands in an attitude of great attention. There was not much to attract notice either in their faces or demeanour: they were merely commonplace men, waiting respectfully upon the General’s pleasure; but there was presently a stir among them when the names of Surwar Khan, Tahir Khan, and Alim Khan were called out. These three sirdars were presented to the General by Mr. Griffin, and after shaking hands and making respectful bows they returned to their places. Tahir Khan is a young man of nineteen or twenty, with a sullen expression of face, and with none of the dignity of a prince: he might, with a little trouble, be made to look like a decent Cabuli _syce_; but even then he would be a poor figure among his compeers of the stable. Sir Frederick Roberts did not receive any of the tribal chiefs, whose position, indeed, would not have warranted such an attention, but immediately opened the Durbar by a short speech, greatly to the purpose. He said:—