A light flickered in the chowkidar’s room, but it didn’t look as if anyone was in there. We searched the area around the room, and found no one. In the faint light that came from Park Street, I could see a frown on Feluda’s face. It meant that the chowkidar should have been in his room. That was the arrangement Feluda had made with him.

We decided not to waste any more time, and walked on, but not right down the central path this time. Feluda took a few steps, then turned left. We began moving through the host of tombstones. There was a strong breeze. Ribbons of clouds were flitting across the sky. A pale half-moon was peeping out fleetingly through them. When it did, the names on the marble plaques became visible just for a few moments, then they were gone. When we finally stepped behind a large tomb, the moon came out again, and I saw the name, Samuel Cuthbert Thornhill. This tombstone was not a long, tapering obelisk. There was something like a platform, surrounded by pillars which were covered by a dome. Three people could easily hide behind it. It was totally dark—the light from the main road did not reach that spot. However, if I looked to my right, I could see a portion of the gate through all the other tombstones.

Feluda spoke, possibly because he was reasonably sure there was no one in the cemetery except ourselves. But he kept his voice low. ‘Could you please sprinkle this around?’ he asked Lalmohan Babu, offering him a bottle with a stopper. He had taken it out of his shoulder bag.

‘Sp-sprinkle?’

‘Yes, it’s carbolic acid. Should keep snakes at bay.’

Lalmohan Babu did as he was told, and returned a minute later. ‘Well, that’s a relief! Even a nerve-soothing pill couldn’t take away my fear of snakes,’ he remarked.

‘What about your fear of ghosts? Has that gone?’

‘Totally.’

Frogs were croaking nearby. Crickets were chirping. One of them seemed to have set up its home right next to Thornhill’s grave. Scattered clouds were still flitting by. Perhaps some of them were thicker than the others, which was why the darkness all around us was growing deeper every now and then. As a result, the tombstones were all dissolving into one black mass. Then, as the moon slipped out, they separated from one another and became dimly visible again.

Feluda took out a packet of chewing gum, and offered it to us before putting some in his own mouth.

The sound of traffic was growing less. I counted the seconds, and realized that for nearly half a minute, I had heard nothing but the frogs, the crickets, and leaves rustling in sudden gusts of wind.

‘Midnight!’ whispered Lalmohan Babu.

Why midnight? Only a couple of minutes ago, I had looked at my watch in the moonlight. It was then twenty- five minutes past eleven.