We were ushered into the interior of the house, and were received by a large fat man, the very counterpart of the sahoukar I had killed. I started involuntarily at the resemblance; but soon recovering myself, and assured by his civility, I seated myself, as did also my father, and we quickly entered on the object of our visit. One by one bales were opened and their contents spread before us. The sahoukar's stock seemed to be interminable and of great value. We selected several articles, and inquiring the prices of those which we inspected, of which I made memorandums, we desired them to be kept for us, saying that we would call the next day with money to pay for them. The sahoukar pressed us to take them with us, and the dullal offered his security for us; but for obvious reasons we declined, and took our leave of the merchant. The dullal accompanied us as far as the Char Minar, where my father, slipping a piece of money into his hands for his trouble, told him we now knew our way home, and bid him come early in the morning to the karwan, and inquire for the house of Rugonath Das Sahoukar, where he would get tidings of us. "So far I am satisfied," said my father; "our goods, as you will have observed, are equal in quality to those we saw, and by the prices affixed to them we have a good earnest of a large sum of money, if we can only dispose of them, a matter I apprehend of no difficulty if properly managed." The next morning came the dullal. "Canst thou be secret?" asked my father at once, and throwing him a couple of rupees. The fellow started and trembled. "If such is my lord's will," said he, his teeth almost chattering with fear, "I can; but I am a poor man, a very inoffensive man. I am my lord's slave, and rub my nose on his feet," cried he at last, fairly throwing himself on the ground and rubbing his forehead against the ground, as he saw my father's brow contracting, and his face assuming an expression of anger at the evident suspicion which the man had of us. "Why," cried my father, as the fellow lay on the floor whimpering, "what is this? what chicken-hearted son of a vile woman art thou? In the name of Alla get up! Because a man who, Inshalla! is somebody, asks thee whether thou canst be secret, must thou of necessity think thou art going to have thy throat cut?" "Do not talk of it," cried the wretch, shutting his eyes and shuddering. "I am a poor man and a miserable Hindoo; what would my lord get by cutting my throat?" "Nay," said my father, "this is beyond bearing; the fellow has not the soul of a flea. Kick him out into the street, and beat him on the mouth with a slipper: there are plenty of dullals to be found beside him." "Pardon, noble sir!" cried the fellow--the mention of his trade leading him to suppose that he was required in the way of his calling--"pardon my foolishness. My lord's threatening aspect turned my liver into water; but now that he smiles again, I am assured that no harm is meant."