"I give it up, and it's all right. But what is that man in the cart? Is he a Grand Mogul?"
"Hardly," replied Sir Modava, laughing. "The driver is the lowest caste of laborers, who works for fivepence a day, and supports his family on it. The man inside is the cook of a Parsee merchant I happen to know, and probably he is going to market to buy supplies for the family. But here we are at the tailor's. You can continue your ramble, and your servants can tell you the way, and what the buildings are."
The two gentlemen entered the tailor's shop; for there are no stores here any more than in London.
CHAPTER XVII
A HOSPITAL FOR THE BRUTE CREATION
The live boys did not care much for the buildings, though most of those of a public character were architecturally very fine. Around a large open space they found the Town Hall, the Mint, and all the great mercantile establishments. At the time of the young people's visit, it was almost entirely abandoned by those who had held possession of it during the day. Business hours are from ten in the forenoon till four in the afternoon.
Before and after these hours the Fort, as the business section of the city is called, is deserted. This quarter was formerly surrounded by walls or ramparts, which have now been removed; but in its limits is concentrated the great wealth of Bombay. There are no dwellings within this territory, which is consecrated to trade and commerce; and both Europeans and natives hasten at the early closing hour to their homes at Colaba, the Esplanade, Mazagon, Malabar Hill, and Breach Candy, the latter on the seashore.
In front of the Grant buildings they found the Cotton-Green, deserted now, though the stacks of bales were still there, with a few sheds and shanties. A few half-naked coolies and policemen were loitering about the place; but it is not convenient for a thief to carry off a bale of cotton on his back, and a bullock cart in this locality would excite suspicion. In business hours this is a busy place; and the Parsee and native merchants, robed in loose white garments, not all of them indulging in the luxury of trousers, reclining on the bales, or busy with customers, form a picturesque scene.
"I don't think this is the right time to explore this region," suggested Scott. "We had better come down here when there is something going on."
"You are right, Scott," replied Louis; "and I dare say Miss Blanche has had enough of the palanquin, or will have by the time we get back to the hotel, for we are more than a mile from it."