"Now for the present. This house has but one storey in front, but there is a room over this, and that is at your service. Furniture it has none, but I will, this evening, get a couple of trusses of straw. It is but a loft, but you will not want to use it, save to sleep in. You need not fear interruption in this house. There is scarce a man here that is not, like myself, a Hindoo, for when we were brought here from Mysore, the piece of ground on which the street stands was assigned to us, and we were directed to build houses here. Few besides ourselves ever enter it, for those who still carry on trade have booths in the marketplace. "There is one thing I will tell you at once. We, the persecuted, have means of recognising each other. Outward signs there are none, neither caste mark nor peculiarity of dress; but we know each other by signs. When we salute, we turn in the thumbs as we raise our hands to our turbans--so. If we have no occasion to salute, as we move our hands, either to stroke our faces, or to touch the handles of our daggers, or in other way, we keep the thumb turned in. If the man be one of ourselves, he replies in the same way. Then, to prevent the possibility of error, the one asks the other a question--on what subject it matters not, providing that before he speaks, he coughs slightly. "You must remember that such communication is not made lightly. Were it to be so, it would soon attract notice. It is used when you want to know whether you can trust a man. It is as much as to say, 'Are you a friend? Can I have confidence in you? Will you help me?'--and you can see that there are many occasions on which such knowledge may be most useful, even to the saving of life." "I do indeed see it," Dick said, "and greatly are we indebted to you for telling us of it." They remained talking with their host, whose name was, he told them, Pertaub, until darkness came on. They had shared his rice with him, and had requested him to lay in such provision as was necessary for them; and as soon as it became dark they went out, leaving their guns behind them. Busy as the main streets were when they had before passed through them, they were very much more so now. The shops were all lighted up by lanterns or small lamps, and the streets were filled with troops, now dismissed from duty, and bent, some on amusement, some in purchasing small additions to their rations with the scanty pay allowed to them. In the open spaces, the soldiers were crowded round performers of various kinds. Here was a juggler throwing balls and knives into the air. There was a snake charmer--a Hindoo, doubtless, but too old and too poor to be worth persecuting. A short distance off was an acrobat turning and twisting himself into strange postures.