The Mandala of Sherlock Holmes - Jamyang Norbu [84]
For a few minutes I was rather overwhelmed by the ramifications of my questions. But then I realised that I was absolutely incapable of answering any of them. So I proceeded to ask him, ex tacito, of course. He did not reply immediately, but drew long on his pipe, which burned brightly. By its glow I saw a shadowy face that was much troubled.
'You would not call me an irrational man, would you, Hurree?'
'Of course, not, Sir. If I may say so you are the most rational, most scientific man I have ever had the privilege of meeting.'
'Yet reason or science had nothing to do with what I did last night.'
'Please?'
'I just knew. One moment I was smoking my last pipe for the night and thinking about our meeting with the Lama Yonten, and the next moment I knew for certain that a dangerous assassin was going to enter the Grand Lama's Summer Palace.'
'Like a premonition, Sir?'
'There was nothing vague about it. The singular thing was the absolute assurance I felt about this startling revelation. Yet there was no way to explain it in logical terms. It was a most peculiar experience.'
'Subsequent events proved you right, Mr Holmes.'
'Yes, and that makes it all the more disturbing.'
'But it did make you change your mind about helping the Grand Lama?'
'Well, it hurts my pride to leave unresolved bits of business lying around, Hurree. It is a petty feeling no doubt, but it hurts my pride. Hulloa! Hulloa! What's that?'
He got up from the sack of grain and quickly went over to the window. From the distance the rumbling sound of many people shouting was now audible.
'From what I can hear, Tsering seems to have a good-sized mob there. Is the dark lantern shielded?'
'Yes, Mr Holmes.'
'Good. Well, Hurree, before we start, I just want to say that I am very glad of your company tonight. Some situations in life are best faced with a true friend by your side.'
I was most touched by Mr Holmes's expression of affection and trust.
For a moment he gripped my right hand firmly in his. He then turned quickly and walked out of the room. I followed suit.
The main hall-cum-eating room of the inn was empty, and so was the kitchen. Everybody had gone out into the street to see what the commotion — which was getting louder and more threatening — was all about. From the black, grimy kitchen we stepped through a back door and into the alley at the back of the Chinese legation. A strong odour of camel dung and urine wafted through to us from the main serai grounds. At the east end of the alley which joined the Saddle-maker's Street, we could see a large boisterous procession of Thibetans carrying flaming torches and yelling threats and abuse. They poured past the alley to the front of the Chinese legation. Mr Holmes and I pressed ourselves against the back wall, taking advantage of the shadows, till the crowd had moved past. As the last of the Thibetans disappeared, Mr Holmes and I sidled by the wall to the other end of the alley and looked around. There was no sign of our contact. We waited.
By the sound of it the demonstration was hotting up. The crowd was lustily shouting fierce slogans denouncing the outrages perpetrated by the dog of an Amban. They sounded jolly obstreperous though, and what with their flaming torches and all, I hoped that Tsering would be able to keep control of the situation. Suddenly Mr Holmes stiffened. 'Don't make a sound,' he whispered. 'There's someone by the corner there. It could be our man.'
For the life of me I could not see anyone in that gloom, but as I had occasion to observe before, Mr Holmes had the most extraordinary powers of nocturnal vision. I tiptoed behind him as he moved swiftly and silently forward. An anxious whisper stopped us dead in our tracks. 'Here. Come this way,' a dark figure stepped forward out of the shadow of the wall and beckoned urgently to us.
As we got there I noticed a low door built into the legation