"It makes me shiver to think of the peaceful aspect of this place and all that danger lurking beneath it."

"It is like a mirror to life. Often great beauty will disguise emptiness ... and sometimes evil."

In the half light I saw his sad smile. I knew he was thinking of Lavinia and I wanted to comfort him.

We sat in silence for a few moments and it was thus that Fabian found us.

He came into the room suddenly.

"Ah," he said. "Forgive me. I did not know that anyone was here. So you are sitting in the dark."

"We wanted the air but not the insects," I said.

"Well, I daresay a few of them have found their way in."

He sat down near me.

"You have had a tiring day?" I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. "No more than usual." He stretched his long legs. "You are right," he went on. "It seems very peaceful here sitting in the dark. Tell me, have I interrupted some interesting conversation?"

"We were talking of the contrasts here. The beauty and the ugliness beneath the surface. The beautiful flowers, the green grass and the Russelian snakes out of sight and ready to strike the fatal blow."

"Danger lurking everywhere," said Fabian lightly. "But isn't that what makes it exciting?"

"I suppose most people would say yes," said Dougal.

"And what of you?" asked Fabian of me.

"I am not sure. I suppose it would depend on the lurking danger."

"And whether, having met it, you could escape it?" suggested Fabian.

"I suppose so." I stood up. "I daresay you have business to talk of. I will say good night."

"Oh, you mustn't let my coming break up this pleasant tete-a-tete."

"We were just talking idly," I said. "And I will go now."

Fabian accompanied me to the door.

"Good night," he said, and there was a quizzical expression in his eyes.

I was reminded of that conversation a few days later. I was in the garden with Alice and the children. The ayah was with us. I was talking to her about Roshanara and asking if she had heard anything of her.

She shook her head. "No ... no. She go far away. Perhaps I never see her again."

"Oh, but she will come and see you!" I protested. "She can't be so very far."

The ayah lifted her hands and gently rocked from side to side. There was something fatalistic in her attitude.

Louise came running up to us. She was holding something in her hand.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I picked it for you," she said and handed a plant to me. I stared at it. I had never seen anything like it before.

The ayah had taken it. Her face had turned pale. She said in a frightened voice, "Thorn apple."

Memory stirred in me. What had I heard about the thorn apple? Snatches of conversation came back. It was the thorn apple from which drugs were distilled. The thugs had used it in the past to poison their victims when they did not despatch them by strangulation.

And here was Louise ... picking it in the garden.

I could see that the ayah knew about it.

I said: "I ... I have heard something of this plant."

She nodded.

"Where did Louise find it?"

She shook her head. "Not here. It could not be. It would not be permitted ..."

Louise was watching us with some dismay. She was a bright child and would understand immediately that something was wrong.

"Thank you, Louise," I said. "It was kind of you to bring me the flower." I kissed her. "Tell me. Where did you find it?"

She spread her arms and waved them as though to embrace the whole of the garden.

"Here?" I said. "In the garden?"

She nodded.

I looked at the ayah. "Show us," I said.

I was holding the thing gingerly. I could smell a faint narcotic odour.

Louise was leading the way to a small gate. It was locked, but possible for one of Louise's size to crawl under it, which she proceeded to do.

"This Great Khansamah's garden," said Ayah, shaking her head.

"Come back, Louise," I called.

She stood on the other side of the gate looking at us wonderingly.

"It was in here I found your flower," she said, pointing. "Over there."

"This Great Khansamah's garden," repeated Ayah. "You must not go there. Great Khansamah ... he be very angry."

Louise scrambled back looking alarmed.

"Never go there again," said Ayah. "It is not good."

Louise gripped her sari as though for protection. Everyone had heard of the power of the Great Khansamah.

I took the sprig into the house and burned it. Then I realized that I should have kept it and shown it to Dougal or Fabian.

I saw Dougal soon after that and told him what had happened.

"Are you sure?" he said.

"The ayah called it thorn apple and I remembered what you had said."

"Could you recognize it from my description?"

"Well, no ... not exactly, but it could have been. But the ayah knew it. She would surely know and she recognized it at once."

He was silent. Then he said, "The Great Khansamah's garden is his own property and we cannot tell him what he can and cannot grow there."

"But if he is growing this drug ..."

"He is a law unto himself."

"But he is employed by the Company and if he breaks the law ..."

"I think it wiser to say nothing abut this just yet. After all, we have to have proof, and it could cause a great deal of trouble if we tried to prevent his growing what he wants to, in that patch of land that the Company has decided shall be for his sole use."

I wished that I had spoken to Fabian about it. I was sure his reaction would have been different.

On the other hand, I had only the ayah's word for it that it was the dreaded datura. She could so easily have been wrong, and I could imagine the outcry there would have been if we had tried to interfere with the Great Khansamah's right to grow what he wanted to in his own garden.

That very day we had a great surprise and perhaps that is why I was not more concerned at the time with the discovery of the deadly plant in the garden.

Tom Keeping came to the house.

He came face to face with us as Alice and I were preparing to take the children into the garden.

"Miss Philwright, Miss Delany," he cried, his face breaking into a delighted smile.

I was aware of Alice, a little tense beside me.

"I knew you were here," he went on. "It is a great pleasure to see you again. Are you well? Are you enjoying being here?"

I said we were and Alice agreed with me.

"I knew we should meet again sometime, and urgent business has brought me here."

"Shall you be staying?"

"That depends on many things. However, we shall be able to meet at times." He was looking at Alice. "You find it congenial?"

"Yes," she said. "I get on well with the children. Don't we?" she said, looking at Louise.

Louise nodded vigorously, staring up at Tom Keeping with interest.

"Me too," said Alan.

"Yes," said Alice, ruffling his hair. "You too, darling."

"I want to see Sir Fabian urgently," said Tom. "I am told he will be here this afternoon."

"We never know when he will be here," I told him.

"We should be getting along into the garden," said Alice.

Tom Keeping smiled. "We shall meet again soon. Au revoir," he said.

Dougal had appeared. He said, "Sir Fabian will be here very soon. In the meantime, come into the study and we can talk things over."

They left us and we went into the garden.

"What a surprise!" I said.

"Yes, but I suppose as he is employed by the Company ..." Alice's voice trailed off.

"He is such a nice man."

Alice was silent. She looked pink and flushed and younger; I noticed, too, that she was rather absentminded. I thought: It would be wonderful if he cared for her, but if he does not it would have been better if he had not come back.

Fabian returned later that day. He was closeted in his study with Dougal and Tom Keeping. They did not appear at dinner, but had something sent to the study.

Lavinia and I were alone.

"Thank goodness," she said. "I can't bear all this Company talk. You'd think there was nothing else in the world."

She chattered on about a certain young captain whom she had met the previous evening.

"So handsome, and married to the plainest girl ... I expect it was for her money. She doesn't even know how to make the best of herself. Fancy anyone with her dark skin wearing brown."

I could not give much attention to such matters. I was thinking about Alice and Tom Keeping.

The next day we took the children into the gardens. Tom Keeping joined us. I made an excuse and left him and Alice together. Alice looked a little alarmed, but I was firm. There was something I had to do for the Countess, I lied.

I could not help feeling that Tom Keeping was rather pleased.

On the way into the house I came face to face with Fabian.

He said, "Hello. Are you busy?"

"Not particularly."

"I'd like to have a talk."

"What about?" I asked.

"Things," he said.

"Where?"

"I think in my study."

I must have shown some apprehension. I had never forgotten that occasion when he had made some sort of advance when he had been under the impression that I was Fleur's mother. I could never be alone with him without wondering whether he was going to do the same again. He knew now that I was not a woman of easy virtue, but I fancied that would not prevent his belief that as a Framling and so much above me in the social scale, it would be in order to amuse himself with me for a while. Perhaps that was why I always seemed to be on the defensive. He was aware of this, I was sure. That was what was so disconcerting. He seemed to read my thoughts with ease. I had always felt that he was faintly attracted by me—not for my good looks, which were nonexistent, not for my feminine appeal, but because I was, as Lavinia had pointed out many times, prim, and a man such as he was would find it diverting to break through my armour and to see me submit to him.

I was determined not to show him that I felt excited as well as apprehensive.

He shut the door, his lips turning up at the corners. He held the chair for me and as I sat down his hand touched my shoulder. He took a chair by the table, which was between us.

"You know Tom Keeping is here," he said.

"Yes, he is in the garden with Miss Philwright and the children."

"I noticed the little charade. You discreetly left them together. Is there some relationship between Keeping and the nanny?"

"That is something you should ask them."

I saw the amused look in his eyes. It faded suddenly. "Drusilla," he said seriously, "you are a sensible girl. I wish I could say the same for my sister." He hesitated. "We are a little alarmed."

"About what?"

He waved his hands. "Everything," he said.

"I don't understand."

"I wish we did ... more fully. Tom Keeping has a special position in the Company. He travels around a great deal. He keeps an eye ... on things."

"You mean he is a sort of Company spy?"

"That is hardly the description I would use. You see the position we are in here. It is, after all, an alien country. Their customs are so different from ours. There are bound to be clashes. We think we could help improve conditions here. They are thinking we are an imperialistic conqueror. That is not so. We want the best for them ... providing it is also the best for ourselves. We have made good laws for them ... but they are our laws ... not theirs, and they often resent them."

"I know. You have told us."

"They act in defiance to us. That is the trouble. That is what Tom is here to talk about. There has been a rather bad outbreak of thuggery some thirty miles from here. A group of four travellers have been murdered. We recognize the methods. They had no enemies ... four innocuous men, travelling together for company. They have all been found dead in the forest near a certain inn. The innkeeper admits they stayed there. There were two men at the inn who dined with them. A few hours later the four travellers were found dead in the forest. They had died of poison, which must have been administered in some drink just before they left the inn. There was no reason for the deaths ... except to placate the bloodthirsty Kali. It seems to me that in defiance of our law there is a return to this old barbaric custom."