‘Sardarji, who were those Hindu boys with you that day?’ asked the peasant again taking Sher Singh’s hands in his.

‘Friends,’ answered Sher Singh. He wasn’t going to give the fellow any more information even if they had let him down. ‘They were not all Hindus,’ he added quickly. He recalled introducing them with Muslim names.

The headman didn’t seem perturbed. ‘One of them was a gentleman; the tall chap in trousers . . . You know the boy who introduced us!’

‘Yes, he is an important officer—a lieutenant in the army.’

‘Wonderful!’ exclaimed the headman. ‘Big people like you should only have big friends.’ After a short pause he remarked, ‘He looked like a college boy.’

‘Yes, he looks younger than he is.’

They sat in silence for some time. Sher Singh felt like ordering the fellow out of the house or having the servants beat him up. He decided to keep calm and make one more attempt to get round his adversary. He got up abruptly and went to his room. He came back with five ten-rupee notes stuffed in his trouser pockets. ‘All right, Lambardarji, Sat Sri Akal. . . and here is a little present for your children from me.’ He thrust the money in the headman’s hands.

‘Sardarji, what is this? I am your slave. I have no children and if I had any they would also be your slaves. You don’t have to give me anything.’

‘You have come to my house for the first time; you must have something, otherwise it will be an ill omen. Buy some sweets for your wife and relations.’

Fifty rupees proved too much for the Lambardar. He accepted them with lavish expressions of praise. ‘You are an emperor . . . I shall always sing your praise.’

Sher Singh paid the money but the headman didn’t give him a chance to ask for the return of the spent bullets. He kept up a flow of flattery till he left the house.

Sher Singh’s illusions about Taylor not knowing of his activities were shattered. He also realized that he had paid the first instalment of blackmail money and many more would undoubtedly follow.

Chapter V

Sabhrai was possessed of that sixth sense which often goes with people of deep religious convictions. It had been proved so often that her family believed that she had some sort of intuition which told her of events to come. Once she had returned from her village many days before she was expected, just as her husband was being taken to the hospital for an emergency operation to have his appendix taken out; she had left long before the telegram summoning her had been delivered. Once again she had come to her son’s bedside, who, in her absence, had been suddenly taken ill with typhoid fever. On her arrival she had not shown any surprise but behaved like a doctor who had been sent for and was expected to get down to his job straightaway. She had got down to hers at once: with softly murmured prayers and gentle ministrations of her hands which had the healing touch. There were many other instances. Perhaps they were mere coincidences to which men of science would attach little importance. Her family had learnt to know better. Therefore, when she suddenly declared her intention to go to her daughter in Simla, neither her husband nor her son asked her for the reason.