218 PINJOR 



Chua was his own great delight chiefly on 

 account of Chua's foolish habit of running 

 round the rooms at night, squeaking with terror 

 because (the stupid little mouse) he never had 

 the courage to escape across the open floor. As 

 it was, the nice white bulldog passed on dis- 

 approving. 



A little farther down the road one of the 

 soldiers caught sight of me, and calling the 

 attention of his comrades, they halted, blank 

 surprise overspreading their cheery faces, 

 astonished at the sudden vision of a country- 

 woman of their own perched up in the corner 

 tower of an old Indian fortified garden, away 

 here in the jungle. But the cart rattled on, and 

 seeming reassured that I was in no need of 

 immediate rescue, they hurried after it. Every 

 now and then, as they vanished into tiny specks 

 down the long white road, one or the other would 

 turn round, looking to see if the sunshade had 

 disappeared. Clearly they were puzzled. 



The sun grew hotter, making me realise that 

 here even in October a morning in the garden 

 must necessarily be short. Reluctantly, I turned 

 to leave my burj with its lovely views and 

 started down the narrow stairway. Where the 



