I put a bold face on the matter and presented one of the hoondees. The Sahoukar was an old man, and taking a pair of spectacles from a fold in his turban, he placed them on the end of his nose and carefully read the hoondee; he afterwards turned it round and round, and examined it most carefully, looking from time to time most suspiciously at me over his glasses. I own this would have been unpleasant had I been alone, but with the two companions I had brought with me I cared not; had it come to the worst, our weapons were ready, and we would have used them for our liberty.
"I wish to speak a few words with you, if you will follow me into the next room," said the Sahoukar, pointing to one which led from that in which we sat. He rose, and I followed him.
"How came you to be possessed of this?" said he, anxiously; "and who are you?"
"It matters not who I am," I replied; "and it must suffice for you to know that I am to receive the money for that hoondee, and for these also;" and I showed him the others.
"Most extraordinary!" he exclaimed after he had examined them. "I cannot understand it. It is most strange that they should be presented by another. Young man, by what authority are you here to receive this money?"
"By his for whom they were drawn," I replied.
"His name, and the Sahoukar's who drew them?"
"Kumal Khan,—and the Sahoukar's Bearee Mul."
"That will not do," said the Sahoukar; "you have blundered in your errand, young man; the drawer's name any one could have told you."
"Perhaps this may enlighten you further upon the subject," said I, and I took from my waistband the seal of the Syud.