James Grant, Only an Ensign: A Tale of the Retreat from Cabul…
“ So thus would the sleepless hours of many a weary night of watching pass away; the boom of brass cannon, mellowed by distance, would come from the far-off Bala Hissar, indicating that dawn was breaking, and pale Rose Trecarrel would know that the slow lingering hours of another day of heartless sorrow were before her. One noon, however, a little hope dawned in her breast! The Hakeem, Abu Malec, arrived with a stranger, whose fair European face belied his Afghan camise and brown leather boots. ”
