‘I do say so, and you are dismissed. It is part of your job to know what is going on in this household, and if it does not meet with my approval, to prevent it.’

‘But, Your Highness – ’ the young man began.

‘Go, I tell you, and at once!’

Humiliated and crestfallen, his dark eyes filling with tears, the Aide-de-Camp walked towards the door. As he reached it, the Rajah said,

‘Send Khusru to me!’

Khusru, who had been expecting this very summons, was waiting in the hall. He was a big, bearded Sikh who, since the Rajah’s birth, had been his personal attendant. In a few minutes the Rajah was in possession of all the facts. Khusru knew the workings of the Rajah’s mind better than anybody else, and he was well aware that a scapegoat must be found. Humiliation and ‘loss of face’ could not be endured by a despot, and the Rajah was that among his own people.

Khusru let the Rajah rage uncontrollably and with the petulant fury of a spoilt child against Stella until the worst of his anger gave place to an ugly and dangerous self pity. This was Khusru’s moment.

‘If I may presume to express an opinion, Your Highness, I do not think it was entirely the lady’s fault,’ he said softly. ‘Francois is a very persuasive man. The French are like that, eloquent, full of soft words and sweet sayings, but François would never have succeeded in his seduction had the lady been happy – ’

‘What do you mean?’ the Rajah asked sharply.

‘Your Highness knows full well that I do not mean she was unhappy when she was with Your Highness. Then she was in a paradise of delight, as are all those on whom Your Highness is gracious enough to smile. But when she was not in the sunlight of Your Highness’s company, it was a very different matter.’

‘Explain yourself,’ the Rajah commanded.

‘It was the sister of the lady, the ugly cripple, who caused her much unhappiness. Often I heard her voice raised in anger, often I heard her say cruel, hurtful things to the lady that Your Highness honoured. It was not right, I thought, but who am I, a humble servant, to carry tales?’

‘You should have told me,’ the Rajah said.

‘Yes, yes, Your Highness – I am guilty of great stupidity. Your unfortunate servant sees that now, but at the time I thought it of no consequence. Now it is obvious that the lady has been forced to escape the cruelty of the hunchback, from which even Your Highness’s kindness and generosity could not save her.’

The suggestion salved the Rajah’s pride, his eyes were less sullen.

‘I see what you mean, Khusru,’ he said. ‘The hunchback has not gone with her?’

‘No, no, Your Highness. She is alone in the Villa Mimosa.’