The Mandala of Sherlock Holmes - Jamyang Norbu [83]
'Well, Hurree,' said Sherlock Holmes with a shrug, 'seeing that we've been together so far on this long journey, it would perhaps be amusing—if the worst came to the worst—having to continue it together in the hereafter.'
1. The Tibetan via sacra circling the holy city. The street circling the main cathedral, the Jokang, is shorter though equally holy, and is known as the Barkor.
2. Atisha (Skt. Dipankarajnana., Tib. Jowo-je) 982-1055, was a great Buddhist teacher from Bengal who came to Tibet in the eleventh century to revive a Buddhism that had been weakened and corrupted after the break up of the Tibetan Empire.
19
The Dark One
It's nearly six o'clock,' I whispered, consulting my silver turnip watch. 'Why hasn't the bally crowd turned up yet?'
'One really cannot be expected to time a public riot as finely as a dinner appointment,' said Holmes, a trifle sardonically. He was leaning back comfortably on a pile of grain sacks in the corner of the room, smoking his pipe. 'Tsering is a reliable fellow. Give him a littie time. He will come.'
I looked out of the small, rough window. Across the narrow street I could see the shadowy walls of the Imperial Chinese legation looming in the twilight. Mr Holmes and I were in a small store room at the back of an inn by the Kashgar serai, in the southern part of Lhassa, where the camel caravans from Turkestan — the beasts being of the shaggy, two humped species, Camelus bactrianus — ended their journey. Kintup had managed to secure this very convenient accommodation, just a stone's throw from the rear of the Chinese legation. The Tungan innkeeper had been informed that Mr Holmes and I were Ladakhi merchants waiting for a caravan to Yarkand.
Though the room was really not of a habitable standard —in fact it was filthy,verminous, and offensive to the olfactory organ — it was an ideal starting point for our venture.
But this stroke of luck had been offset by the bad news that the Lama Yonten's agent was unable to come and brief us on the layout of the legation grounds. The duties of the servants had increased two-fold with the arrival of the Dark One, and the agent had feared that his absence would be noticed. Still, he had agreed to meet us at the rear outer-wall of the legation as soon as the demonstration started, and lead us in through the trade entrance, which was usually securely barred and bolted.
And so we waited. I sat back, and watched the faint glow from Mr Holmes's pipe across the darkness of the room. As the darkness increased, this solitary light appeared to be like a faint star, alone in the vast emptiness of infinite space.
Suddenly, for no obvious reason, I felt very much alone and very afraid. And then that part of me, the rational, prudent part, that always pleaded for peace, stability and good sense (so far suppressed by the other part of me, the one that invariably got me into dam'-tight places) now rushed to the fore.
What in the name of Herbert Spencer was I, a respectable scientific man doing, embarking on this mad criminal venture —stepping into the veritable 'Jaws of Death' as it were, when I had only just managed to squeak out of them the last time I was here in Thibet? Of course, I sympathised tremendously with the plight of the Grand Lama, but when all's said and done, Imperial China is Imperial China; and one did not go around challenging a sinister and vindictive institution like that with impunity —especially when it was served by frightening blighters who impaled good men on levitating cutlery with mere flicks of the finger. And anyway, how could I, a lowly subordinate in a minor department of the GOI, be expected to help the bally Thibetans when even Sherlock Holmes, the world's greatest detective, the foremost upholder of justice, had just yesterday afternoon pleaded to be relieved of the task. Well he had, hadn't he? Hold on a minute though... then why the deuce an' all did he change his mind about