"I used to enjoy our times at the rectory," he went on wistfully.

"My father did, too."

"I got the impression that we all did."

"Oh yes. We talked of interesting things."

"You always took up any subject with enthusiasm. If only ..."

"That must be one of the most used phrases in the language."

"Do you never use it?"

"I suppose so. But it is always ineffectual. Nothing that has ever gone before can be changed."

"That doesn't prevent my saying ... if only ..."

"You will not be here always, and if you have made up your mind to go back and study when you get home ... well, that is something to look forward to."

"Lavinia would never agree to live the kind of life I would want."

"That seems very likely, but why did you not think of that before?"

"I was bemused."

"Ah yes, I know."

Silence fell on us. It was broken only by the sound of an enormous flying insect passing the open door.

"He would have been in the room if we had had the lamp burning," said Dougal.

"He looked very beautiful."

"There is so much beauty here," said Dougal. "Look at the garden. Is it not exquisite ... the trees, the pond, the flowers. There is a feeling of deep peace ... but it is quite false, in fact. Everything in this country is mysterious. It seems to me that nothing is what it appears to be."

"Does that apply here particularly?"

"I think so. These servants who come to do our bidding ... I often wonder what is going on in their minds. They seem almost accusing sometimes, as though they harbour resentment and blame us for it. Look at that garden. Where could you see a more peaceful-looking spot, and yet out there among the grass lurk Russelian snakes. You could even come face to face with a cobra lurking in the undergrowth."

"You make it sound like the garden of Eden with the serpent lurking," I said with a laugh.

"It is not dissimilar. You must be careful in the garden, Drusilla. These snakes are everywhere."

"I have seen one or two. Are they the pale yellowish kind?"

"Yes ... the variegated ones. They have big oval spots, brown with a white edge to them. Avoid them. Their bite could be fatal."

"I have seen them in the bazaar emerging from the snake charmers' baskets."

"Ah yes, but those have had their poisonous fangs removed. The ones you find in the garden have not."

"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."