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By Root 860 0

dressed as a monk, in dark red robes that left his arms uncovered, and now that I was standing in front of him I could see that his facial hair was not shaved, but had been laboriously kept plucked. Aside from that tiny detail, his features could have been those of a fellow passenger on a London bus. The face before me was remarkably unlined, so that he appeared younger than his forty-seven years, the dark wells of his eyes calm, peculiarly open and unguarded. He did not look, I thought, like a man long held prisoner. His eyes reminded me of something or someone, although before I could hunt down what or whom that was, his light, amused voice addressed me.

“And you, appearances to the contrary, can only be Miss Russell.”

I suddenly remembered how I looked, and abruptly understood both his laughter and Holmes’ fingers exploring my scalp—in the extremity of the moment, I had forgotten that I was Martin Russell, not his sister. But this middle-aged Irishman saw what the maharaja had not, and accepted the disguise for what it was.

He continued, “I am grateful to God that I have lived to see this day. I call your husband brother now, but in days gone by he was my mother and my father, and I rejoice that my eyes can see the woman who pleases him.”

I was so confused, all I could do was look at him. And even more confused when he turned and walked back to the door of his cell. “But now you must be on your way, before Sanji returns with the supper.”

Both Nesbit and I started to protest, but Holmes took over. “Russell, there’s no time for discussion. The guard takes at a minimum fourteen minutes to get to the kitchen and back, and we cannot count on this being one of those times he stops to gossip. Listen to me. Did you bring the drug?”

“Here,” I said, fishing it from my pocket, along with the small vial of skin dye Nesbit’s kit had provided. The purloined climbing rope was best left around Nesbit’s waist until we needed it.

As Holmes secreted the bottles and needle away, he said, “The one thing you must understand, and accept, is that Mr O’Hara has given his word that he will not make any attempt at escaping Khanpur.”

“That’s ridiculous—” I started to say, but Holmes cut me off sharply.

“We have no time, Russell. O’Hara has given his word. Absolutely. If you want him out of here, you shall have to carry him.”

“What, we drug him and carry him down the stairs?”

The man standing in the doorway of the adjoining cell spoke up. “Drugging shall not be necessary. My vow merely said that I should not attempt escape; there was nothing whatsoever about resisting abduction. If you choose to remove me from this place, so be it. I shall not take one voluntary step towards the border to assist you; however, neither shall I raise my voice in protest.”

“This is lunacy,” I said.

“Nonetheless,” O’Hara said placidly, folding his hands and standing patiently just inside the door to his cell.

“You can’t mean it.”

“I’m afraid he does,” Holmes said.

“Nesbit, do something,” I said. “Order him.”

“Would it help if I ordered you?” Nesbit asked the recalcitrant prisoner.

“Not in the least,” O’Hara said cheerfully.

“How much do you weigh?” he asked, then said, “Oh, never mind.”

“I hope to God you haven’t taken a vow, too, Holmes,” I grumbled.

“No. However, in any case I shall not be going with you, not tonight.”

I felt like screaming. “For God’s sake, why?”

“Because in eight minutes Sanji will be back with my food, and if he finds me missing, he will raise the others and you will not make it to the gates.”

“All right, then, we’ll use the drug to keep him quiet.”

“And in twenty minutes,” Holmes added, as if I had not spoken, “according to the custom we have established over the past days, six guards will arrive to escort me to the maharaja’s presence for a midnight entertainment. If I am not here, the alarm will be raised, after which they may think to look into the neighbouring cell and find that empty as well, and a hue and cry will be raised, and we will all be caught within a mile of the gates. If, however, I remain here, and perform