The tall man shuddered, and remained silent. As the train emerged his companion gave a very creditable imitation of the whistle and the tunnel.
The tall man smiled sadly.
"Ramma Lal," he said, "I envy you your merry disposition. It was in a good moment that I met thee in Bombay, baboo-jee. You have served me well in guiding me hither, and in enlivening me on the long journey."
"Your honour is pleased to be excessively gracious," said the Baboo with absurd complacency. "Indeed, my tip-top spirits have been of much service to myself and many other honourable gentlemen, and have been extraordinarily admired by English ladies." He pulled out his watch. "In the space of half an hour we shall have arrived at our long-intended destination."
"So soon? Show me the plan again to refresh my memory."
The Baboo produced a piece of paper, over which they bent their heads.
"Here is the railway station at which we shall dismount. This pink streak is the highway-road along which we shall travel, eventually reaching the big brass gates belonging to ancestral home. A little beyond is a diminutive wall, which we ascend and descend. Then we step across the park and round the lake. Here and here. This sepia mark is water. Now we are in the pleasure garden. This is the hinder part of the house. Here is the right wing. The fifth window in the second row. That is your bull's eye."
"Go on," said his companion, gloomily.
"Your honour will divest yourself of polished hat and other garments, which you will transfer to my care in summer house. Here, behold it, painted in vermilion. You will climb up to the window. Inferior but friendly servant has arranged that it shall open easily. Once in the room the deed is as good as accomplished. You know the hiding-place of the jewel."