But undoubtedly the advice was good.
Ahmed Ismail, carrying the light in his hand, went down the stairs before Shere Ali and along the passage to the door.

There he extinguished the lamp and cautiously drew back the bolts.

He looked out and saw that the street was empty.
"There is no one," he said, and Shere Ali passed out to the mouth of the blind alley and turned to the left towards the Maidan.

He walked thoughtfully and did not notice a head rise cautiously above the side of a cart in the mouth of the alley.

It was the head of the reporter of Bande Mataram, whose copy would be assuredly too late for the press.
Shere Ali walked on through the streets.