The Far Pavilions - Mary Margaret Kaye [375]
Two white patches showed on Ash's lean cheeks, but he managed to keep his voice under control and said briefly: ‘I was, sir.’
‘Then you had better go back there. No point in hanging about cantonments doing nothing. Haven't they been able to arrange your reservations on the trains yet?’
‘Yes, sir. They're for next Thursday. But –’
‘Hmm. Wouldn't have given you leave if I'd known that you'd be staying here at a loose end for all this time. Well, if you've said all you want to say, you will oblige me by leaving. I have work to do. Good-day.’
Ash withdrew, and disregarding the Colonel's advice, called on the Commissioner; only to find that the Commissioner shared Colonel Pomfret's views – particularly on the subject of junior officers who demanded to see him towards mid-day and on being told that the hour was inconvenient, and they should either come later in the day or earlier on the following one, burst into his presence with some cock-and-bull story and a demand that he, the Commissioner, should take immediate action on it.
‘Poppycock!’ snorted the Commissioner. ‘I don't believe a word of it: and if you knew these people as well as I do, you wouldn't either. It don't do to believe more than a fraction of what they tell you, as most of ‘em will always tell a lie rather than speak the truth, and trying to find out what really happened is like drawing eye-teeth or hunting for that proverbial needle in a haystack. This friend of yours – Guptar or Gobind or whatever his name is – is either pulling your leg or else he's too gullible by half. I can assure you that no one nowadays would dare to be party to such a thing as you suggest, and it's easy to see that your credulous friend has been the victim of a hoax. And you too, I fancy! Well, let me remind you that this is 1878 and that the law against suttee has been in force for over forty years. It is not likely to be flouted now.’
‘But you don't know Bhithor!’ cried Ash, as he had to both Sarji and Colonel Pomfret. ‘Bhithor doesn't belong to this century, let alone this half of it. I don't believe they have taken in that there is such a thing as the British Raj, or if they have, that it has anything whatever to do with them.’
‘Gammon,’ snapped the Commissioner, annoyed (he lunched at noon and it was already past that), ‘you exaggerate. It is obvious that –’
‘But you haven't been there,’ interrupted Ash.
‘What has that to say to anything? Bhithor is neither in my Province nor under my jurisdiction, so even were I inclined to place any credence in this ridiculous tale, which I fear I am not, I could still do nothing to help you. Your informant would have been better advised to approach the Political Officer responsible for that section of Rajputana – that is, if he really believes his own story, which I doubt.’
‘But sir, I have told you that he cannot get any message out of Bhithor,’ persisted Ash desperately. ‘There is no telegraph or post office, and though they may allow his servant to come here to buy medicines and drugs, they would never permit him to go anywhere else. If you would only send a telegram to the Political Agent –’
‘I shall do no such thing,’ said the Commissioner testily, and rose to his feet to show that the interview was at an end. ‘It has never been the policy of my Department to interfere with the administration of other provinces or to instruct those in charge of them, who are, believe me, more than able to deal competently with their own affairs.’
Ash said slowly: