The Deputy Commissioner’s car with its Union Jack and chauffeur in police uniform was well known to the staff of the police station. The sentries saluted as it went through the gates and the Anglo-Indian sergeants sprang to attention. Taylor’s personal bodyguard stepped out of the front seat and opened the door. Dyer hopped out, followed by Sardarini Buta Singh.

The sergeants recognized the dog. They also realized that the native woman was Buta Singh’s wife. The chauffeur enlightened them. They slunk away to the reporting room and let the Indian staff take over. The Muslim sub-inspector conducted Sabhrai to her son’s cell.

Dyer was the first to greet his young master. He rushed at him, barking deliriously. He went round in circles, whining, pawing, and licking, and would not let Sabhrai get near her son. Sher Singh patted the dog on the head and pushed him aside gently. Mother and son clasped each other in a tight embrace. Sher Singh’s pent up emotions burst their bounds and he began to cry loudly in his mother’s arms. Sabhrai hid his unmanly tears by holding him to her bosom. She kissed his forehead again and again. They rocked in close embrace with the dog leaping about the cell, yapping and barking joyously.

‘Could you leave us alone, sub-inspector Sahib?’ asked Sabhrai addressing the officer.

‘Certainly Mataji,’ he replied, drying his eyes. ‘Stay here as long as you like. Can I bring you some tea or something to eat?’

‘No, son, just leave me here for a few minutes. I won’t be long.

The sub-inspector went out and ordered the inquisitive group of constables back to their barracks.

Mother and son sat down on the charpoy. Dyer put his head in his master’s lap.

‘How pale you are! Do they give you enough to eat?’

‘They give me all I want; I don’t feel hungry. I could not even eat the food you sent me.’

‘I did not send you anything.’

‘Oh? The Deputy Commissioner’s orderly brought it every day. I thought it was from home; it was Indian.’

‘God bless him and his wife. Son, your father would not let me send you anything.’

‘Is he very angry with me?’

‘He had to be angry. You have poured water over all his ambitions.’

‘What does he want me to do? The police tell me he wants me to make a statement naming the boys who were with me.’

‘Yes. He thinks that is the only thing that will save you.’

‘Have you all thought the matter over?’

‘We have talked of nothing else. Everyone says that if the police already know about the others, there is no harm in making a statement. And Taylor Sahib is showing you a special favour in letting you be the only one to get away.’

After a long pause Sher Singh asked: ‘Has Champak said anything?’