"Kindly put down the knife," said Sherlock Holmes, standing in the
doorway of the kitchen. "I do not wish to shoot you, but I would. Why
did you call me effendi and give the game away?"
"You are not military, sahib, so I wanted to speak with you. Your
friend, he is military?"
"Yes. He is also the friend of Captain Warburton."
"Ah." He paused, for several moments. "I am not a cook," he began.
I know, your excellency. I had but to glance at you to realize that I
was addressing the Majarajah of Bithur, the hereditary prime minister
of Mahratta, the Monster of Bibi-Ghar! To think that I should find
you snug in a country house, so many years after the atrocities in
Kanpur." Holmes raised his police whistle to his lips.
"Shhh! said Nana Sahib. "I am no monster. You must hear me speak."
Holmes opened his watch. "Five minutes."
"You are tired," said Nana Sahib. "I have just made tea. Would you
share a cup? It is not poisoned," he said, bitterly. "It is the one
thing I prepare well. You see that I am drinking some myself? It is
full of the spices of my country and warming to the senses. Yes, I
thought you would like it. Take a spoonful of honey with it."
Holmes stirred his cup and took a sip.
"General Sir Hugh Wheeler did not heed the warning of Meerut, and
under fortified the garrison. I, who had so often entertained the
British in my palace at Bithur, came with my men to Kanpur to support
him. He set us to guarding the treasure house, along with many
sepoys. They rose in rebellion and my men joined them, telling me
that if I did not lead, at least in name, they would kill me, my
wife, and all my kindred.
"I prepared a safe conduct to the Ganges for General Wheeler and his
people to go by boat down to Allahahad, but fighting broke out
between the British in the boats and the sepoys on the banks and the
river ran with blood.
"Those still alive were taken to Bibi-Ghar, the house of women, and
the men were put to the sword. The women and children were, as
doubtless you know, later hacked to pieces and their bodies thrown
down a well. I often wake at night to their screams.
"When the British re-took Kanpur, I managed to escape to Nepal, but,
longing for home, I re-crossed the Ganges and ran into Colonel
Warburton, who needed a servant. I needed a new identity, so I, the
decendent of the princes of my people: I who was always clean-shaven
and bald, had grown hair and become unrecognizable, even to my men. I
seized the chance to become Warburton's cook. I told him I was not a
cook and he believes this now. He hates my cooking, and grows thinner
year by year, but he keeps me on, because where would I go? But when
the warning letter about the artifact came, he thought I might be in
on this plot to kill him or his son, so he made the dog taste
everything."
"Does the Colonel have any enemies?"
"Yes, indeed. Lord Broxton, who loved the Colonel's wife as a young
man. He does not say he hates the Colonel, but I have seen it in his
eyes."
"Why does the Colonel dig in the cellar?"
"He is interested in archaeology, sahib. The foundations of this
house are older than the house itself. He records all he finds in a
little book."
"But what of this artifact that someone wants so very much? The
Colonel does not know what it is. Do you?"
"It is of this that I wished to speak with you, sahib, because you
are not military. I took this collar from the dead terrier's neck. I
think it is an armband of the benevolent Ganesha, taken from a temple
many years ago by the Colonel's father, the famous Corinthian Jemmy.
If so, it should be returned to my country. It is a holy thing."
"How did you come by it?"
"I heard the dog start barking in the night-time and then, suddenly
stop. I ran in to find him dead, and a man leaving through the
window. We have since shuttered and barred them.
"I cannot take the armband back to India, sahib, but tell me you
will."
"Do you have any idea who killed the dog?" Holmes asked.
"I am not certain, but he looked like a man who came here last week
with Lord Broxton."
"Do you recall his name?"
"Yes, sahib. It was a Mr. A.J. Raffles."
He caught Holmes as the detective tottered and dropped his cup. "I
did not poison the tea, sahib, but I did drug the honey. Now I must
leave you, as I do not wish to hang."
Go to Part Twelve
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