at with care.

Coryndon explained his plan of coming and going when the streets were
silent, and when he could do so without being noticed. If he came in the
daytime and asked for alms, Shiraz was to open and call him in to
receive food, but he would only do this in great emergency, as the
beggar did not wish to establish any connection with the Punjabi. If, on
the other hand, it was a matter of necessity for the Burman to reappear,
Shiraz was to walk along the street and bestow alms in the beggar's
bowl; and on the first opportunity Coryndon would return and make the
necessary change. The first difficulty was to get out of the house, and
to be in the street by twilight, when the close operation of watching
would have to begin.

"The doors of the merciful are ever open to the poor; yet there is great
danger in going out by the way of the Bazaar."

"There is a closed door at the back that I have well prepared," said
Coryndon, pulling a bit of sacking over his bent shoulders. "Remember
that an oiled hinge opens like the mouth of a wise man."

The addition of one to the brotherhood of vagrancy that is part of every
Eastern Bazaar calls the attention of no one, and being a newcomer,
Coryndon contented himself with accepting a pitch in a district where
alms were difficult to obtain and small in value, but his humility did
not keep him there long, and he made a place for himself at the top of
Paradise Street, in the shadow of an arched doorway, where a house with
carved shutters and horseshoe windows was slowly mouldering through the
first stages of decay. From here he could see down the Colonnade, and
also watch the shop of Mhtoon Pah, as he alternately cursed or blessed
the passers, according to their gifts or their apathy.

The heavy, slouching figure of the assistant went by to take up his
master's place in the waterside house, and the beggar wasted no time in
glancing after him. He knew his destination, and had no need to trouble
about the ungainly, walloping creature, who kicked him as he passed. It
was fresh, out in the street, and pleasant, and in spite of his musty
rags and his hidden face, Coryndon enjoyed the change of occupation.

He saw the place much as it had been on the evening of July the 29th.
Mhtoon Pah came out and sat on his chair, smoking a cheroot, and
observing the street. In a good humour it would appear, for when the
beggar cringed past and sent up his plea for assistance, the curio
dealer felt