Chesterfield had been unable to master his fit of coughing and was now spitting into a red handkerchief, but across this unfortunate commotion, the rajah managed a grave smile and said to Ross, ‘I would have recognised you at a hundred paces. You and your brother are one and the same.’

They were brought into one of Sir Ralph’s great receiving rooms. While Ross was invited to sit, Chesterfield was left standing and it was then that the old man felt his legs give way and he fell down in a faint onto one of the rajah’s most expensive embroidered carpets. Ross sprang to his feet and went to his side. He felt for a pulse and was relieved to find it, and began to apologise to the rajah, as though he feared that Chesterfield’s inert form was now spoiling the symmetry of his room.

The rajah called for arak and the Chinese servant who had shown in the guests now hastened to pour a cup, which Ross tried to administer to Chesterfield. But he remained insensible to everything, gone temporarily into who knew what dream plucked out from his life of toil.

It was at this moment, with Ross kneeling by the old man and Sir Ralph commanding for himself a dose of arak, that Leon entered the room. He was wearing a jewelled robe and at his waist hung the dagger with its hilt of lapis lazuli. If Ross knew at once that this was the man who had sent him the lying ransom demand, he also knew, as he saw Leon’s hand rest upon the dagger, that now – with Chesterfield laid out on the expensive carpet – was not the moment to risk any confrontation with him. He tried again to give his poor servant a sip of arak and was relieved to see him open his eyes and grin.

THE WHITE ROAD

Now, Valentine Ross was standing at the grave of his brother.

The rajah had laid turf over the earth mound and replaced the makeshift wooden cross with one made of marble. Written on the marble were the words Edmund Ross, Englishman and Naturalist. But no dates were inscribed on the small monument because Sir Ralph had not known precisely when Edmund’s short life had begun, nor on which day it had ended.

Standing beside Ross were the rajah and Chesterfield. It had been Sir Ralph who suggested to Ross that he read some words from the bible. From the moment he’d heard Ross speak on the night of his arrival, he had been moved by how much like Edmund he sounded. Guessing, however, that the nature and temperament of the elder brother was quite different and that he would not be persuaded to take his ease in a hammock and recite verses from St. Luke’s Gospel, purely for the rajah’s consolation, he took the opportunity of putting the bible into his hands now and letting him choose what he would from it.

He and Chesterfield stood silently waiting. The old servant glanced uneasily at Ross, almost certain that strong emotion might prevent him from uttering a single word. Slowly, he turned the fragile pages of the great book. But at last he began, reading from St. Luke’s account of the crucifixion: