A few miles away, in Mr. Saeed’s leafy neighborhood, it was a decidedly more relaxed scene. Several dozen policemen ringed the area around his home, standing casually with rifles and enforcing a house arrest that seemed more of a forced vacation. Two heavily bearded workers from Jamaat-ud-Dawa arrived with food, and the police raised the barricades and allowed them through, choosing not to inspect their Suzuki truck. Mr. Saeed’s relatives have been allowed to come and go freely from the home, policemen said. A young boy and a girl standing on the second-floor balcony of Mr. Saeed’s home looked down at the police and smiled. One local police commander, seeing journalists arrive, rushed over and proclaimed that Mr. Saeed was confined inside his home, banned from going outside now or at any other time. Almost on cue, Mr. Saeed emerged moments later from the mosque across the street, clad in a green jacket and a cream-colored shalwar kameez, the long tunic and baggy pants that Pakistani men commonly wear, and ambled back to his house. “No, no, it’s not Hafiz Saeed,” the embarrassed commander said, though it clearly was. “I’m just following instructions,” he added.