The baboo went to tell Fairbrother, finding him in the courtyard with Spence and Smale drinking boiled milk.

Two former sipahees – first their landlord and now this fruit-seller. Fairbrother was intrigued. This was good fortune, truly. Or did they all say they’d served when they thought they were in the presence of Company men?

‘Bring him here, baboo-sahib, but not a word of English, mind.’ He nodded to the corporals, who came and sat close.

The baboo brought the sometime sepoy to the presence. ‘Tell the huzoor what it is you have to say, sipahi.’

The man made namaskar. ‘Sahibs, you are sahoukars, I think, with much gold and rubies. I have seen you pass by three times since the last moon. Today I overhear bad men speak of robbing you. Sahibs, I am poor farmer, with much debt. I wish only to help. I wish that bad men be punished and honest men like you and me live in contentment.’

Fairbrother listened keenly. He understood just a few words, but his intention was to suggest the opposite. When the man finally stopped – he spoke for some time – the baboo looked at ‘the huzoor’ for a sign. Fairbrother nodded slowly, giving the impression he was weighing the words, then rose and went to a corner of the courtyard with the baboo.

‘He says a party claiming to be pilgrims intends joining with you tomorrow at the ferry, and accompanying you on the road to Chintal, and when it is night falling upon you to take the gold and jewels, and that there will by then be thirty of them, so that they will overwhelm you before you can defend yourselves. They will send lughaees ahead to dig a great pit into which they will cast the bodies, near a place they have used many times before for murder.’

‘Ripe intelligence, baboo-sahib. You trust him?’

‘I believe I do, Captain-sahib. How could his telling us help the thugs in any way? He says he knows where is their camp tonight, but says it would be unwise to move against them, for there will be little moon and the place is set about with bamboo.’

Fairbrother cursed. His instinct was to do just that – turn the tables on them before even the tables were laid, so to speak. That was certainly what his good friend – Hervey – would have done. But he didn’t underestimate the hazards, nor overestimate his advantage; to start with, this little purana sipahi might be cunning, tempting him to try by urging him not to.

‘Do we suppose that Banji Lal would recognize these men? We can’t presume to. We’ll need this old soldier to point them out at the ferry, shall we not, for each time we’ve crossed there’ve been many hundreds waiting. I’d want to take their leaders as soon as possible. Did he offer to identify them to us? Did he name his price?’

‘He asked for fifty sicca rupees, sahib.’