Bipin rose from his sitting posture. He salaamed thrice before his mistress and departed with an important air.
In the shadow of the pillar by the main entrance the blind beggar, who appeared to have sat there from the beginning of all time, instinctively recognized Bipin's footsteps. He accosted the secretary with a petition for alms.
"Good clerk," he cried. "Have pity upon the unfortunate."
Bipin halted and faced him with a look of offended dignity.
"Good clerk!" he returned, in scornful accents. "Good clerk! Thou fool. Dost know to whom thou art speaking"?
"Surely to the worthy clerk, Bipin Dat," replied the beggar, innocently. "Many a time hath he cast a crumb to the afflicted."
Bipin scowled magnificently upon the beggar.
"Then seldom in future will the afflicted benefit by his compassion," he returned sternly, "unless they have more discernment than to style him a clerk. Know, thou fool, that he to whom thou criest is no longer a clerk, but hath so gained the ear of the noble Rani, that she hath appointed him to be her secretary."
His breast swelled with pride as he authoritatively announced his new rank.
"Secretary to the Rani," cried the beggar in astonishment. "Secretary to the Rani. Behold how God rewardeth the deserving. Protector of the Humble," he whined, "it was my infirmity that led me to make the mistake."