Ellis Peters - George Felse 11 - Death To The Landlords Read Online Free PDF Page A

fingers, to hedge-stakes a foot long and pale, greenish lemon. I saw these when we passed the stall in the bus, and we simply had to walk back and get some.’
    ‘Where was that?’ Larry asked. ‘I never noticed any stall as we drove up.’
    ‘It was getting dusk then, and he hadn’t lighted his little lamp, you wouldn’t notice us. But we saw you go by. Two turns down the road – I expect he’s packed up long ago, probably just after we were there, there wouldn’t be much traffic up here after dark. One turn down the road there’s what’s left of a shrine of Siva. It looks pretty old, too, the carving’s nearly worn away, but they still bring oil and marigolds.’
    ‘No, really? As close as that? I might take a flashlight down and have a look at that presently.’
    ‘Wouldn’t tomorrow morning do?’
    ‘Not a hope! We’ve got to be afloat before six, or we shall miss the best of the show. They might not hold the boat for us, either – don’t forget it’s Sunday. The best times, the two periods in the day when the animals come down to water, are from six on in the morning, and about half past three in the afternoon until dusk. And it takes a little while to get out to the best vantage-points – there’s a whole lot of lake up there.’
    The Bessancourts were withdrawing, with polite good nights to the Manis. They passed by Larry’s table on their way to the door, and bowed comprehensively to the company, uttering in assured, incongruous duet: ‘
Au ’voir, m’sieurs, m’dames
!’ Everyone turned to smile startled acknowledgement, for once united: ‘Good night,
m’sieur
,
madame
!’
    ‘The French,’ said Patti with conviction, as soon as they were out of the room, ‘are
formidable
!’ It was a good word for the Bessancourts. ‘What can they want here?’ she demanded in a feverish whisper. ‘What brought them here? I don’t understand!’
    Dominic, still charmed and touched by that courteous departure, so reminiscent of a respectable couple quitting a small restaurant in St Dié or Chaumont, wondered if it was so vital to understand. Wasn’t it their business? Why not just be glad about that impressive, three-dimensional reality of theirs? But Patti wanted to recognise, to docket, to know all her landmarks.
    ‘Where did you first see them?’
    ‘At Mahabalipuram, among all that fabulous free sculpture. In the Mahishasura-Mardini cave, actually, standing like another rock, staring at the sleeping Vishnu. She looked exactly as if she was studying the joints in a butcher’s window before buying, but I’ll swear for ten minutes and more she never moved. Her old man stands just as still and gazes just as attentively, but in a different way. As though he were standing respectfully but impregnably in a church that wasn’t his own, but still he saw the point for those who belonged there.’
    ‘You like them,’ said Priya suddenly, in her soft, detached voice, and smiled at him with her eyes as well as her lips.
    ‘Yes, I like them.’ Heaven knew he wouldn’t have the art ever in this world to achieve communication with them, short of a miracle, but he believed confidently there was everything there to like.
    The Manis were leaving, too, in a series of short, abortive starts and stops. ‘Sushil Dastur, my bag – you have left it behind!’
    ‘Sushil Dastur, please arrange about the breakfast and early tea…’
    ‘Sushil Dastur, don’t forget you must see to that letter, there will be a post from the hotel… And the alarm at five, remember!’
    (‘That goes for us, too, don’t forget! ’ Larry warned in an undertone. )
    They passed in procession, pausing momentarily to exchange valedictory compliments.
    ‘You’ll be making the morning run?’ asked Larry politely.
    ‘Ah, but not with the public launch! ’ Mr Mani wagged a triumphant finger and beamed his superiority. ‘We have an introduction to an influential resident here. He has a villa on the lake, and the hotel places a