That afternoon, we arrived at the hill-fort in a police van. The three of us, and Sitaram. Pandey-ji would settle us in and then return; Sitaram would stay. Sitaram was thirty-five, lean and tall, with a dusky fair complexion, and a moustache like a hunting cat. His remarkable feature was that, dressed well, he looked every bit a gentleman, but in a loincloth, he could pass for a scullery servant without the slightest hesitation. At present, he wore a cloth down to his knees and a towel over his shoulder—in short, a rough workman’s attire. We did not travel light: bedding trunks, rice, lentils, vegetables, provisions, an Emic cooker, and who knows what else. Sitaram and Bulaki Lal began hauling the luggage into the fort. Pandey said, “Come, let’s go meet the master of the house.”

The master sat on the main veranda, his son-in-law Monilal beside him. They greeted us, mildly reproached us for arranging our own meals, and joked that city folk would never find peace in the hills and jungles. Yet his eyes remained sharp and wary.

During these pleasantries, I noticed the other residents of the house had grown quite restless at our arrival. Banshidhar and Muralidhar circled us like hawks, never coming too close. Ramapati poked his head out from inside the house, silently withdrew after seeing us. The steward Chandmohan, at the far end of the veranda, drew on his hookah and skewered us with sidelong glances. Tulsi, peering from behind a jasmine bush like a curious squirrel, darted away; a moment later, I saw her peeking from behind a pillar.

They had clearly learned that Byomkesh was a famous detective and had come to stay at the fort with some grave purpose—and were accordingly agitated. Only Gadadhar’s slow mind, it seemed, had not been roused even by such a shock; I did not see him.

As we rose to leave, Ramkishore Babu said, “Consider that you have come only to stay here—”

Durg Rahasya 311

“No, please. You are my guests; whenever you need anything, just send word.”

“Of course, of course.” We prepared to leave. The master of the house signaled, and Monilal accompanied us; his purpose was to escort us up to the fort.

As we ascended and descended the stairs, we exchanged a few words with Monilal. Byomkesh asked, “How did Ramkishore Babu come to know that I am a detective?”

Monilal replied, “I told him. I already knew your name; I’ve read books written by him. When I mentioned it, the master became quite agitated. Then, when he heard that you wanted to stay at the fort, he was visibly unsettled.”

“Why?”

“Just the other day, there was an accident—”

“So you fear that what happened to you might happen to us as well. By the way, wasn’t it your wife who also died of a snakebite?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I see there are a lot of snakes in this region.”

“There are, certainly. But I’ve never actually seen one