By the exertions of these city police we reached Cashmere Mull's house,
noted as a specimen of antique Oriental architecture.

The court-yard into which we were first ushered reminded me of an old
English "hostelrie;" it was small and uncovered, and round each story ran
a curiously worked balcony, on to which opened doors and windows, carved
with strange devices, and all the nooks and crannies formed by so much
intricate carving were filled with dust and cobwebs. Passing up a
narrow, dark, and steep stone stair, we reached a second court-yard, upon
the balcony of which we emerged, and which was so very like the last,
that I imagined it to be the same, until I remarked that it was smaller,
and, if possible, more dirty. We thence ascended to the flat roof of the
house, and on our way looked through half-open doors into dark dungeons
of rooms, which one would not for the world have ventured into at night.

There was a raised stage with steps up to it, which we ascended and found
ourselves on a level with a great many similar stages on the tops of a
great many similar houses. A stone parapet about 8 feet high, with
beautiful open carving, enclosed this stage, so that we could inspect our
neighbours through our stone screen with impunity. On the next roof to
where we were was a boy training pigeons, and the numerous crates or
frames on the surrounding house-tops showed this to be a favourite
amusement. The young gentleman in question certainly made his flock obey
him in a wonderful manner, his chief object being to take prisoner a
pigeon from his neighbour's flock. He directed their gyrations by loud
shrill cries, and, as there were numbers of other members of "Young
Benares" employed in like manner, it seemed wonderful how he could
recognize his pigeons, or they their master.