Alice and I would go to the gazebo during the day, taking certain of the things we would need to change the appearance of Roshanara. Our great fear was that we might betray in some way that we were acting in an unusual manner.

Apparently we did not, for all went smoothly.

Alice and I dressed Roshanara. The poor child was trembling with fright. She could not believe that anyone could challenge the orders of the Great Khansamah, but at the same time she had great confidence in me.

There was no need to warn either Indian of the consequences to themselves if the plan went wrong. They were as aware of that as we were.

So in due course Roshanara was ready. She did not look in the least like her old self. The cut-down dress hung on her a little, but it was not entirely ill-fitting, and the wig of light brown hair completely transformed her. She looked like a Eurasian. Her graceful movements and her striking dark eyes could not be disguised.

I knew how successful our plan had been when, a few days later, a note was delivered from Tom Keeping.

"All is well," he wrote. "Cargo will be safely delivered from the city tonight."

That seemed satisfactory. We had saved Roshanara.

There was a great outcry the next day when the news of Roshanara's absence became known.

The Khansamah said nothing, but I knew he was in a murderous rage. He had wanted the old custom of suttee to be carried out to the letter. He wished to defy the British, which was apparently a sentiment gaining ground throughout the country.

The ayah told me that many questions had been asked. He had interrogated her particularly. What did she know? She must have an idea. Had the girl gone off on her own? They would find her, never fear. She would die in the fire if she were found, and she would not have the honour of making a sacrifice for her husband and her country. But die she would, for defying the orders of the Great Khansamah and for being a traitor to her country.

Poor Roshanara! I hoped she had escaped from her formidable father-in-law forever.

Lavinia had been kept in ignorance of all this on Fabian's orders, but now she was aware of Roshanara's escape. The reason for it had seeped out and everyone was talking of it.

"Poor girl," she said. "Did you know they wanted her to jump into the funeral pyre?"

"Well, it was an old custom at one time."

"But it isn't now."

"No. Thank goodness it has stopped."

"But they still do it. The Great Khansamah wanted it done this time. It was out of respect for his son. He seems a little annoyed that his wishes were disobeyed."

"Serve him right."

"He's only following the old custom."

"I wonder if he would be prepared to jump into a fire for the sake of an old custom."

"Of course he wouldn't. Roshanara's well out of it. I wonder how she managed it. I wouldn't have thought she would have had the spirit."

"When one is faced with death one finds the power to do all sorts of things."

"How do you know? You've never faced death."

"You're right. We none of us know how we would behave in certain circumstances if we have never faced them."

"Philosophising again! Trust old Drusilla. G.K. has been questioning them all. He is trying to find out who disobeyed his orders."

"Has he been telling you?"

"Not he! He's very dignified now ... since that time I sent him off with a flea in his ear."

"As I remember, you did nothing of the sort. The encounter was brought to an end when I came in and rescued you."

"Drusilla to the rescue! Because you did it once over that boring old Comte, you think you do it all the time."

"I am glad he has become that boring old Comte. He was so wonderful at one time."

"Well, Khansamah has been behaving very well lately."

"Very well! Trying to force his daughter-in-law to burn herself to death."

"I was referring to his way with me."

"Of course. You never give a thought to anything that does not concern you."

Lavinia laughed. "Stay with me. I love the way you treat me. I don't know why. Mama would have dismissed you long ago for insolence."

"But you are not Mama, and if I am dismissed I will take myself off without delay."

"Huffy again! Of course I want you to stay. You're my best friend, Drusilla. What a name! It suits you. You look like a Drusilla."

"Prim? Disapproving of all the fun?"

"That's right."

"It's not true. I only disapprove of the so-called fun you like to have with the opposite sex, which has once had dire consequences, which you should remember."

"Are we back to that?"

"Yes ... and be careful of the Khansamah. He may not be what you think."

"Oh, he's polite to me always. He's quite humble now."

"I wouldn't trust him."

"You wouldn't trust your maiden aunt who goes to church four times a day and prays for an hour kneeling by her bedside every night."

"I have no such maiden aunt."

"You ought to be one yourself—only you haven't any family to be aunt to. That's why you impress your prim propriety on me."

"I tell you ..."

"I'm going home!" she mimicked. "Oh, no you won't. What was I telling you? Oh, I know. How G.K. is with me. He is rather sweet really. Do you know he brought me a present the other day. I know what it is for. He's asking for forgiveness for that outburst. Of course I forgive him. He just admired me so much."

"I believe you would have surrendered if I hadn't come in."

"Give up my virtue! What an experience it would have been!"

"You have so little virtue that you would hardly be aware of its loss. As to experience ... so is jumping into the sea and drowning yourself, but I don't suggest you try that for the sake of sweet experience."

"Oh, shut up and look at the present G.K. brought to me."

She went to a drawer and took out a case.

"You mean you accepted a gift ... from him!"

"Of course I accepted it. One has to accept gifts in the spirit in which they are given. It's extremely impolite not to do so."

She opened the box and drew out its contents. She held it to her face, peering over the top coquettishly.

I was staring in horror at a peacock-feather fan.

The weeks that followed were marked by increasing tension. In certain parts of the country open rebellion had broken out, but so far it had been kept under control.

At the beginning of March of that year, 1857, Alice and Tom Keeping were married. It was a simple ceremony, which I attended with Dougal, Lavinia and Fabian, who had made a flying visit to Delhi for the occasion and left immediately afterwards. He did say that he had urgent Company business and must keep in touch with the Army. He was going to the Punjab, where, so far, everything was quiet.

Dougal remained in Delhi and I had several opportunities of talking to him.

He said he would very much like to get out of the country and Fabian had agreed with him on this. Undercurrents of rebellion were springing up everywhere and the journey to the coast might prove very hazardous. But for the children, he thought it would be advisable to attempt to leave. Both he and Fabian agreed that Delhi might perhaps be the safest place for us to be after all, for the biggest concentration of Army personnel was stationed there.

I had thought a great deal about the Khansamah's gift of the peacock-feather fan to Lavinia. I could not help feeling that there was some sinister implication in this. I chided myself. It was a small matter compared with the cloud of uncertainty that hung over us. Fans made of peacock feathers were common enough in the bazaars and marketplaces. True, they were mostly bought by foreigners who would not know of their reputation ... whatever that was. But what was the significance of Khansamah's gift of one to Lavinia?

She believed it was a form of apology for his behaviour; but then Lavinia would always believe what she wanted to.

I did ask Dougal about peacock feathers. He was very interested in old customs and he had probably heard that they were considered to be unlucky. He had not, but being Dougal, he set himself the task of finding out.

As he had known that one day he would have to visit India, he had made it his duty to find out all he could about that country, and in his possession were several books which he had brought out with him from England. There was not much that he could tell me, however, but he did discover that there were suspicions regarding peacocks' feathers and one or two sources stated that in some quarters they were considered to be bringers of ill luck.

I told him that I had one in my possession, which had been given to me by Miss Lucille Framling, who had certainly believed in its evil influence.

"Odd that she should wish to pass it on to you," he said.

I told him of the incident when I had taken the fan. He smiled and said, "I believe she was a little unbalanced."

"Yes, she had a great tragedy. Her lover was murdered and it seemed to her that it was all due to the fan."

"Well, that's a lot of nonsense."

I did not tell him that the Khansamah had presented Lavinia with one. I wondered what he would say if he knew that she had carried on a mild flirtation with the man. Sometimes I thought he did not care what Lavinia did.

"It goes back to the legend of Argus, whose eyes went to the peacock's tail. Some believe that Argus wants revenge and that the spots are eyes which see everything that is going on ... not only what is visible, but what is in the mind. There are quite a number of people in this country who never have peacock feathers in their houses."

"They don't all feel like that, I suppose. Some might think the fans made pleasant gifts. They are really very beautiful."

"It might be that the fact that they are would make them more evil in the eyes of the superstitious."

I tried to forget that the Khansamah had given Lavinia the fan. Heaven knew there were far more important matters to concern me.

I received a letter from Alice. She was very happy. She wrote: "Tom is wonderful and we often marvel at the fortuitous way in which we met. Tom is wondering what is going to happen next. I think he realizes the danger of the situation more than most, for his work takes him all over the country. His work is so exciting and it is marvellous to be able to help him. You will be happy to know that the cargo is settled and being taken care of. I look forward to meeting you some time. Perhaps we shall come back to Delhi. Tom is never sure where his work will take him and things are a little uncertain now. It would be wonderful to have a real talk about everything."

I was so pleased to read her letter. How wonderfully life had turned out for Alice!

Meanwhile, as the uneasy weeks passed, rumour intensified. April had passed and May was with us. Lord Canning made a proclamation assuring the sepoy troops that the cartridges they used were not greased with pork or beef, but it was, I believed, received with scepticism.

Dougal was called away. He went reluctantly.

"I don't like leaving you here alone," he said. "Major Cummings will keep an eye on the house. You must do whatever he tells you."

Lavinia was rather pleased. She was developing a fondness for Major Cummings.

The day Dougal left, Fabian returned.

He asked me to go to his study. When I arrived, I saw how serious he was.

He said, "I can't talk to Lavinia. She has no sense of responsibility. I can't tell you how worrying this is, Drusilla. It seems to me you are the only sensible one here, now that Alice Philwright has gone. A pity. She is a practical young woman."

"What has happened?"

"God knows. There is a terrible feeling of uneasiness throughout the Company and the Army. It was a mistake to depose the King of Delhi—old Bahadur Shah was quite harmless—and an even greater one to try to turn them out of the family mansion. You see, Drusilla, we have won many a battle with the sepoy troops. Now they say to themselves: Who won these battles? It is the soldier who wins the battles ... not those in command. What we could do for the British we could do for ourselves. They are against us, Drusilla ... and they are part of the Army."

"Do you really think they would revolt?"

"Some would. The Sikhs are loyal ... so far. I think they can see what benefits have come through us and they care enough for the country to want us to continue. But this headlong nationalism ... we can't stop it. What worries me is you and Lavinia and the children. I do wish I could get you home."