"Alla forbid!" said I; "for if it is wrong, I and these worthy associates of mine are ruined, for we have more like it, and for larger sums."
"I see nothing wrong in the bill," said the man; "but let me see the others." I showed them.
"They are all correct," said he; "you have only to take them for acceptance, and you are sure of your money."
"Is the firm upon whom they are drawn well known?"
"They have a great deal of country business in hoondees," said the man, "and are on that account perhaps less known than many of our leading bankers, but nevertheless the firm is most respectable."
"Where did you say they live?"
"In the Begum Bazar. If your worships wish it I will accompany you thither."
"Good," said I, "do so; we are strangers, and might not readily find the house. You shall be rewarded for your trouble."
We went out of the city by a small gate at the end of a street which led down from the Char Minar,—I think it is called the Delhi gate,—and turning to the left, after crossing the river, we were soon in the midst of the populous and wealthy suburb in which the bankers we sought resided. The road through the principal street was almost entirely blocked up by bags of grain, bales of merchandize, tethered bullocks belonging to the grain-carriers, and empty carts; and it was as much as we could do to keep together, both from these causes and the crowd of people. The noise too of the crowd, of the buying and selling in the bazar, the curses and execrations of bullock-drivers and unloaders, the cries of men measuring grain, and a thousand others, made a din and confusion which I had never heard equalled. However, by dint of pushing and elbowing our way, we reached a respectable-looking house, and were introduced to one of the partners by the man we had taken with us.