"He will also," she remarked, "be in little doubt as to the identity of the writer. The Peshwa, the Rani, and the Intellectual Bipin Dat. He may wonder if the third is not the most important of the three." Bipin stroked his chin musingly. "Dust under thy feet," he replied at last. "That could scarcely be the case, but it has ever been the opinion of the most learned _pundits_ that in the work of great writers their personality shines forth as a diamond amid false gems." "Then Bipin, thou must be a veritable stone of the first water," she replied. "But one thing I gather. You, at any rate, out of a multitude of aspirants for office, appear satisfied with your position." "Noble Rani," he continued. "Satisfied am I of thy graciousness; but of the precise moment when it will be advisable for me formally to take upon myself the burden of my duties, I am not yet determined." A look of displeasure crossed the Rani's face. "How mean you"? she asked. "Have you, too, some petition to make that I will exchange it for one that brings a better revenue"? "Noble Lady," he replied, "mere wealth holds out little inducement for those of intellectual worth. We, who are writers with inspired thoughts, look for a more imperishable reward; but in all events of importance it is ever well to consult those who read the future and who can discern the most auspicious moment to take an important step." "Oh!" exclaimed the Rani. "Thou wouldst consult thy friend, the astrologer"? Bipin bowed. "Such is my desire, noble Lady." "Go, then," she cried, "and get thy consultation over quickly, for I need the service of thy pen." Bipin rose from his sitting posture. He _salaamed_ thrice before his mistress and departed with an important air. In the shadow of the pillar by the main entrance the blind beggar, who appeared to have sat there from the beginning of all time, instinctively recognized Bipin's footsteps. He accosted the secretary with a petition for alms. "Good clerk," he cried. "Have pity upon the unfortunate." Bipin halted and faced him with a look of offended dignity. "Good clerk!" he returned, in scornful accents. "Good clerk! Thou fool. Dost know to whom thou art speaking"? "Surely to the worthy clerk, Bipin Dat," replied the beggar, innocently. "Many a time hath he cast a crumb to the afflicted." Bipin scowled magnificently upon the beggar. "Then seldom in future will the afflicted benefit by his compassion," he returned sternly, "unless they have more discernment than to style him a clerk. Know, thou fool, that he to whom thou criest is no longer a clerk, but hath so gained the ear of the noble Rani, that she hath appointed him to be her secretary." His breast swelled with pride as he authoritatively announced his new rank. "Secretary to the Rani," cried the beggar in astonishment. "Secretary to the Rani. Behold how God rewardeth the deserving. Protector of the Humble," he whined, "it was my infirmity that led me to make the mistake."