“The Lenin of the sub-continent,” I interjected softly.

“You might say that,” O’Hara agreed. “Or a native Viceroy.”

“Native prince, hereditary ruler,” Holmes mused. “The blood of the Moghuls in his veins, a thousand years of experience in his hands. A compromise between Congress and the Moslem League, certainly, but a shining opportunity as well, for India and England. Gandhi and Jinnah wouldn’t have a chance.”

“The English would seize upon Khanpur’s maharaja with vast relief, that with a man of his stature in charge, they could now withdraw with honour.”

“Leaving the country in the hands of a murderer and a madman,” I pointed out.

“Which is why we cannot allow his plot to ripen even one week further.” It was O’Hara who spoke, which surprised me.

“Wouldn’t continuing to involve yourself in Survey business be furthering the actions of the Wheel of Life?” I asked him.

“One attains merit through action as well as by refraining from action,” he answered piously. “The innocent must be given the opportunity to attain self-knowledge, which the unfettered actions of the wicked would prevent.

“To say nothing of the fact,” he added, “that it should be jolly fun.”

Our startled laughter woke Bindra for a moment. He kneaded his eyes with his fists, located his father, and settled again, nuzzling into the robed lap with a sigh of contentment.

“If I understand you aright,” Nesbit said, ignoring my digression, “you would suggest that action be taken that does not bring the Army into this? Since,” he noted, his green eyes beginning to dance, “it was you who suggested that we might not wish to approach the encampment at this time.”

“Oah, Nesbit, truly you are a man after my own heart.”

“What do you propose?”

“Well,” the Irish Buddhist said, “you were willing to carry me on your shoulders from The Forts to the borders of Khanpur, until Miss Russell drew her gun.” Holmes stirred, and I realised, belatedly, that he knew nothing of the events of the previous midnight. “But as that demand was not made upon your back and sinews, perhaps, given a few days for your leg to heal, you would not mind carrying the considerably lesser weight of the maharaja?”

“Kidnap him?” The quirking of Nesbit’s mouth showed his love of the idea, although the hesitation in his eyes said he was thinking, too, of the report he would have to make to his superiors. Particularly if the plan went awry.

“Invite him outside to Delhi, for conversations,” O’Hara suggested.

Holmes took his pipe out of his mouth to point out gently, “He is in a heavily guarded fortress.”

“There is at least one concealed entrance,” O’Hara said. “When he came to the Old Fort in the night, he did not always come smelling of the outside world, but of stones and dampness.”