At last they came to the house occupied by Ahmad Khan, when Bipin was conducted out of the darkness immediately into the Mohammedan's presence.
For a moment the secretary stood blinking in the light with no idea of his surroundings. He had entirely forgotten the object with which he had been induced to set forth from the city; but Ahmad's countenance seemed familiar. Through a mental haze, the thought came to him that one of his uncles had heard of his good fortune, and had arrived to obtain a share of his money. This was a displeasing, if not an entirely unlooked for event, so he determined to disavow the relationship before the other had time to make himself known.
"Go away," he ejaculated, with his eyes fixed stupidly upon Ahmad. "Go away. Thou art a rogue, a lying fakir. I swear thou art no uncle of mine."
"What, thou drunken fool," shouted Ahmad in a voice of thunder. "I would as soon be uncle to a litter of swine."
He clutched Bipin by the throat, and held him until the secretary's eyes and tongue protruded. Ahmad hurled him into a corner.
"Get water," he cried, "and throw over the idiot. Then, perhaps he will come to his senses."
But Bipin had arrived at a realization of his position. He recognized Ahmad, and begged forgiveness for his mistake.
"To be sure," he returned feebly. "Thou art my good friend, Ahmad Khan, though a little rough and quick in resenting an error of sight on coming in out of the darkness. I beseech thee to say no more about the pitcher of water."
"That wilt depend how quickly thou canst gather thy wits," Ahmad sternly replied.
"Surely every one of them are now in my head," answered Bipin, frightened at Ahmad's manner. While he endeavored to recollect how it was he had been induced to come to the place, he began to change his previous good opinion of the Mohammedan.