"Who spoke? Who spoke?"
"Many have spoken Pir Saheb," replied the squat Pathan.
"Who said 'You are right, brother,' but now? Who? Quick!" he cried.
"Who? Why, 'twas one of us," replied the squat Pathan. "Yea, 'twas
Abdulali Habbibullah, the money-lender. I have known him long…."
"Let him speak again," said the blind man.
"Where is he? He has gone out, I think," answered the other.
"Call him back, Hidayetullah. Take others and bring him back. I must hear his voice again," urged the faquir.
"He will come again, Moulvie Saheb, he is often here," said the short man soothingly. "I know him well. He will be here to-morrow."
"See, Hidayetullah," said the blind faquir "when next he comes, say then to me, 'May I bring thee tobacco, Pir Saheb,' if he be sitting near, but say 'May I bring thee tobacco, Moulvie Saheb,' if he be sitting afar off. If this, speak to him across the room that I may hear his voice in answer, and call him by his name, Abdulali Habbibullah. And if I should, on a sudden, cry out 'Hold the door,' do thou draw knife and leap to the door…."
"A spy, Pir Saheb?" asked the interested man.