There was a malicious twinkle in Zynool Sahib's eyes when he remarked that after all they were obliged to re-enter by the main door through which he had come to secure their sandals, which native courtesy demanded should be left at the entrance. Mark's quick eye noted that the present visitor's feet were encased in white stockings and shining patent leather shoes, which he retained. It was a very small bit of dumb show, but the young man felt immediate sympathy with the humbler owners of the sandals, and turned with a slight sense of prejudice to listen to the owner of the plethoric voice. Zynool Sahib expressed himself in pompous English of a sort, and made polite inquiries as to "His Honour the noble Collector," begging that expressions of his regret for his illness should be conveyed to him, and hoping that he would be well enough to grant his "humble slave" an audience one lucky day before long. He then assured Mark in flowing periods that he was desirous of becoming, from this day henceforth, the "humble slave of the present company," as he designated the young Assistant. Mark thanked him rather coldly, and began to wonder what the man's morning mission really was, when suddenly it was revealed to him. "What am I saying?" jerked Zynool, shaking his bushy beard. "I am stoopid as an owl! This truly is my best lucky day, and not another! For does not this lucky day give me the acquaintance of one who it is revealed to me is the friend of my patron, my guiding star, who but the La'yer Rayner, Pleader, High Court of Madras? I humbly beg on my bended knees," he added, which expression, be it understood, was symbolical, as Mark perceived with relief, fearing that otherwise it might fall to him to assist to raise the mass of flesh from the ground. "I beg on my prostrate knees," he repeated, bending forward and clasping his fat hands together, "that your Honour will embody La'yer Rayner in your own redoubtable person to me, your humble slave, and will henceforward defend me from all the plots and persecutions of my town enemies who buzz about me like evil flies, who are many and strong as the sands of the sea. And for this end your humble slave will now proceed to touch your palm." Fixing his beady eyes on Mark he slowly drew out a well-filled silken purse through whose meshes pieces of gold glittered. He bent low before the Assistant's chair and laid the purse by his side on the table. The young civilian flushed, then turned pale. He had heard of the offering of bribes by natives, but surely it was early in his day for such an incident to happen! Did he look such a vulnerable person, he asked himself with a sense of dismay. Rising from his chair, he folded his hands behind his back, and said in a tone of repressed anger: "Put that purse in your pocket instantly. Englishmen don't take bribes!"