"Aye, I am back. Having done the business."
Curiosity leapt into the eyes of the Chinaman, and he dropped his attitude of contempt.
"What business?" he asked greedily. "Before thy departure thou wast mute, stricken as a dumb man, neither wouldst thou speak in response to any question."
The Burman curled himself up on the floor and smiled complaisantly.
"None the less, the business is done, O Bowl of Ghee, and I have returned."
The assistant ignored the personal description, and adopted a manner calculated to ingratiate himself into the friendly confidence of the mad Burman. He wriggled off the table and crouched on the floor a few inches off Coryndon's face, and the contact being too close for human endurance, Coryndon threw himself back into the corner and retired behind a mask of cunning obstinacy.
"Thy business, thy business," repeated the boy. "Was it in the nature of the evil works of the bad man, thy friend?" He leered his encouragement, and fumbling at his belt took out a small coin. "Here, I will give thee two annas if thou tell the whole story to my liking."
The Burman shook his head, but he appeared to be considering the offer slowly in his obtuse and stagnant brain.
"Give the money into mine own hand, that the reward be sure," he said, as though he toyed with the idea.
"Not so," replied the boy. "First the boiled rice and the salt, and afterwards the payment. Thus is the way in honest dealings."