Soon Jinnah Jad pulled away the cloth and showed a little sprout instead of just a seed. He formed the tent again, using a larger cloth. He piped a tune on a hollow gourd that he used as a flute and pulled away the cloth. There, spreading out from the tent, was a small mango tree, with fruit on its branches!
As the crowd buzzed its admiration, Jinnah Jad turned to the slender boy with the drum and said, Chandra, you bring me rupees, so I make more jadoo. The boy promptly picked up a wooden bowl and started through the crowd, taking up a collection, nudging people with the bowl and gesturing to their pockets whenever they hesitated at contributing a few coins.
Biff, meanwhile, was speaking in a low voice to his companions. Lets spread out, so you two can watch to see if anyone is watching me, he suggested. Then no one will know that we are together. To that, Li and Kamuka agreed. As they moved away, they each passed Chandra and added coins to the collection at the Hindu boys urging. Then Chandra reached Biff and asked politely, You have rupees, maybe, sahib?
Biff pulled two rupee notes from his pocket and dropped them in the bowl. Chandra bowed and brushed past, taking the bowl to Jinnah Jad, who picked out the rupee notes and glowered his dissatisfaction at the rest. Two men were passing by, carrying a heavy basket that dangled by its handles from a long pole. Jinnah Jad told them to set down their burden and remove the bundles that it contained. Then:
This boy is good for nothing, declared Jinnah Jad, indicating Chandra. So I make him go for good. You watch.
Before Chandra could dart away, Jinnah Jad grabbed him and thrust him into the basket, which was roundish and bulging at the sides. Jinnah Jad threw a cloth over the boys head and shoulders and suddenly, Chandras form collapsed beneath it. Triumphantly, Jinnah Jad jumped into the basket and trampled the cloth there.
Chandra had vanished from the basket, and to prove it, Jinnah Jad not only stamped his feet all around, he squatted down in the basket, filling it with his fat form, while he clucked like a happy hen seated on a nest. Then, emerging from the basket, Jinnah Jad snatched up a long sword, shouting, I show you boy is really gone! With that, he stabbed the sword through one side of the basket and out the other side.
While the crowd gasped, Jinnah Jad repeated the thrust again and again, one direction, then another. The jadoo wallah had worked himself into a frenzy when the men who owned the basket stopped him and babbled in a native dialect.
They know the boy is gone, translated Jinnah Jad, for the benefit of the crowd. They do not want me to spoil their basket. He waved to the basket and told the two bearers, All right, take it.
Eagerly, the two natives piled their bundles into the basket, thrust the pole through its handles and hoisted it on their shoulders. By then, Jinnah Jad was in the midst of another miracle. He was pouring rice from a bowl into a square teakwood box that had a glass front, while he stated:
One time, in India, there was great famine, with people everywhere needing rice. So a great yogi in the Himalayas fill a box with rice like this
The throng was hushed, for Calcutta itself had suffered from great famines, even in comparatively recent years.
So by magic, he sent rice everywhere, to everybody! Jinnah Jad gave the box a flip. Instantly, the rice was gone from behind the glass and he was opening the box wide, showing it to be totally empty. Yes, to everybody! To you to you to you. Jinnah Jad was jabbing his finger from person to person. So look in your pockets and find it! You, sahib you, babu find rice!
People were bringing fistfuls of rice from their pockets. Biff smiled, thinking these were friends of the jadoo wallah, until he saw total astonishment on faces close by. Those included Lis, for a dozen feet away, the Hawaiian youth was bringing out two handfuls of the tiny grains from each coat pocket. Still skeptical, Biff thrust his hands into his own pockets and brought them out containing rice!
The deeper he dug, the more he found. Biff was almost ready to accept the jadoo of Jinnah Jad as real indeed, when he brought out something else, a crinkly wad of paper, with more rice inside it. Puzzled, Biff pulled it open and found it to be a penciled note that stated:
Follow men who go with basket. Go alone. Tell no one where you go. Important.
None of the other spectators had found a note like that, for they were simply staring at the rice, while Jinnah Jad moved through the crowd, taking up a new collection in person. Biff looked for the basket bearers and saw them starting slowly away, as if they had waited just long enough for Biff to find the note.
So Biff started after them, working his way through the crowd so that he went past Li. Quickly, Biff muttered:
Dont look now. Just find Kamuka and wait for me here. Ill be back soon.
III
The Rajahs Ruby
By the time the basket carriers had turned a few corners, Biff was not so sure that he would rejoin his companions as soon as he expected. The lazily moving pair suddenly stepped up their pace and the narrow, poorly paved streets looked so much alike that Biff had no idea where they were leading him.
The streets were flanked by chawls or native houses that were scarcely more than hovels. From the suspicious glances that Biff received, and from the way the buildings encroached upon the narrow alleys, he felt as though a whole sea of humanity was closing in upon him. He realized that he would need a compass to find his way back. There was no telling by the sun, which was out of sight even over the low roofs, although the day was becoming so hot that Biff wished he were back in a rickshaw instead of footing it through these dismal, dirty streets.
Then they reached a better section, where the buildings were higher, with occasional shop fronts. There, the basket bearers slackened pace and turned into a passage beneath an archway that bore the sign:
D. CHAND & BROSImport ExportWarehouseBiff followed cautiously and saw the two men cross a little courtyard and continue through another archway well beyond. There they disappeared from view but only long enough to set down the basket, because one of them returned to the inner arch and closed a big metal gate behind him. He then went to rejoin his companion.
By then, Biff was moving into the courtyard himself. He edged over to one side and gained a look through the inner arch. Beyond the closed gate he saw what appeared to be a large storeroom, for there were many crates, boxes, and other bulky objects stacked there. From his angle, Biff could see nothing of the two men, so he moved cautiously toward the inner arch, hoping to get a closer and more direct view.
At that moment, a clang sounded behind him, and Biff turned to see that another gate had closed in the outer arch. A tall man in baggy white clothes had stepped in from the street and was now locking the gate behind him. Biff was trapped in the open space between the archways. He looked quickly for an outlet, and saw one on the other side of the courtyard, in the form of an open doorway.
Biff hurried in that direction, only to stop short as a man appeared in the doorway to meet him with a polite, welcoming bow. The man was dressed in European clothes, but his broad, bland face, with fixed smile and bushy eyebrows above his large-rimmed glasses, was definitely Asiatic. So was his cool, even-toned pronouncement:
I am Diwan Chand. I have been expecting you. Come in.
I am Diwan Chand. I have been expecting you. Come in.
Then, as Biff hesitated, glancing back at the white-garbed Hindu, who was coming from the outer gate, Diwan Chand added a further introduction:
This is Nathu, my special watchman. I thought it best to have him lock the gate, so we cannot be disturbed. He will wait here until we return.
Chand said nothing about the pair who had gone through the inner archway with the basket. Biff followed the bland merchant through a room equipped with a long row of vacant desks, like an old-fashioned counting house.
Our clerks work here, explained Chand, but they have all gone out to lunch, so no one will know of your visit.
Whether that was good or bad, Biff wasnt sure. He felt a nervous tingling that seemed an instinctive warning of some close danger; yet it might be that all these precautions were for his benefit.
This seemed doubly so when they reached Chands quiet private office at the rear of the long counting room. There, the merchant closed the door, gestured Biff to a chair, and opened a small safe that was cunningly concealed in the elaborately carved woodwork of the wall.
You received your fathers message, commented Mr. Chand, and now I have something for you to take to him. This.
Biff gasped at the object Mr. Chand placed on the table before him. There, in a small case lined with white velvet, gleamed the largest and most magnificent gem that Biff had ever seen. It was a blood-red ruby, with a touch of purple that gave it a glow like living fire, even in the subdued light of the office. In his study of mineralogy, Biff had viewed many fine stones, but never one that even approached this ruby.
A padmaraga, Mr. Chand said. A true Brahmin ruby, not to be confused with those of lesser caste. Whoever carries such a gem as this one can live in perfect safety in the midst of many enemies, totally without fear.
At first, Biff thought that Mr. Chand was simply repeating some Hindu legend concerning rubies, but he soon saw that the merchants steady smile had become very serious.
For this I can vouch, Mr. Chand continued. The Light of the Lama, as this ruby is known, brought good fortune to the descendants of the rajah who originally owned it. While I have been its custodian, I, too, have prospered. There has been no trouble here, despite riots and disturbances in other parts of Calcutta, in fact, throughout India.
Mr. Chand picked up the squarish jewel case and started to place it in a chamois bag, as he added:
And now good fortune goes with you. They say that even the power of invisibility is granted to those who hold this gem. Perhaps that is why danger has passed me by.
But in that case, Biff asked frankly, why are you giving it to me? Shouldnt you keep it for yourself?
It is my duty to pass it along, replied Mr. Chand solemnly, and besides, I have noticed that the Light is losing some of its fire, which is a bad sign. See for yourself!
He moved the ruby closer to Biff, who saw now that the gem was in a simple golden setting; but more important, just as Mr. Chand said, its sparkle had dwindled. Then, as Biff himself held the jewel, its wine-red depth kindled with new flame, so suddenly that Biff caught his breath.
A good sign! exclaimed Mr. Chand, closing the little case and thrusting it into the bag. That proves it is in the hands where it belongs! He pressed it into Biffs hands as he spoke. So guard it well he paused and his fixed smile became whimsical for once or I should say, it will guard you well. We have just seen proof of that.
Evidently, Mr. Chand referred to the rubys sudden glow, which was quite puzzling to Biff. But something else puzzled him still more.
Why must I take this ruby to my father?
He will tell you when you see him, replied Mr. Chand. The less I say, the better, now that I no longer have the ruby to protect me.
And where will I find my father now?
In New Delhi. Go there, but do not contact his company except to ask for him by telephone. If he is not there, go to the United States Embassy, but be careful even then, as spies are watching everywhere. Trust only your fathers voice as you did when you received the taped message that I sent you.
Biff nodded, recognizing the wisdom of all that. Then, thoughtfully, he remarked:
In that message, my father said I would meet a man that he and I could both trust. I am sure he meant you, Mr. Chand.
If the merchant had beamed at the compliment, Biff might have been suspicious, for he still felt the odd sensation of some impending danger. But Mr. Chand was modest.
You can trust me, he said simply, but your father meant another man, Barma Shah. He was the contact who brought us together. I had hoped that he would be here to meet you and go with you now, but he is probably being watched.
By the same spies you mentioned, Mr. Chand? Biff inquired.
Yes. Barma Shah told me he would stay away if danger threatened here. That was a month ago and shortly afterward, new riots broke out in Calcutta. Some were rather close by, the nearest that they have been. Naturally, Barma Shah did not come that day. He has stayed away since and wisely so I sent word to you myself, as was arranged for such a situation.
Above Mr. Chands quiet voice, Biff thought he heard a rising murmur, much like the approach of the tidal bore along the Hooghly. Whether or not it was his imagination, he felt more closed in than ever.
The day of the riots, Mr. Chand went on, I looked at the Light of the Lama and saw it had clouded. I was afraid, not for myself, but for Barma Shah. I was glad when he did not come here
The murmur was louder now, no longer like wave beats, but more a human babble, with occasional muffled shouts. Mr. Chand heard them, too, for he raised his hand and exclaimed: Listen! Timed to the action came a sudden pounding at the office door and the excited voice of Nathu, the watchman:
Master! There is danger! Another riot has started, outside our very gate!
As Chand unlocked the office door and opened it, the babble rose to a bedlam of howls, shrieks, and the clang of metal as the mob battered at the big gate. At Chands mention of the ruby, Biff had thrust his hand into his pocket to see if he still had the chamois bag that he had placed there. It was safe, and as Biff clenched it tensely, his palm seemed to burn as though the gem were actually glowing through its wrappings.
There was a huge crash as the metal gate collapsed and now, through the barred windows of the counting room, Biff could see the milling figures of the native rioters as they flooded the courtyard, swinging clubs, slashing with knives, and hurling rocks at one another. Some of those missiles smashed the glass in the barred windows, adding to the crowds glee, for they were eager to destroy property along with lives.
Mr. Chand showed surprising speed as he whisked Biff back into the little office and through a door in the opposite wall, at the same time saying excitedly, Go through the godown! It is your only way!
Biff thought godown meant some steps, but instead, Mr. Chand was referring to the storeroom. As Biff started off among the crates, there was another clang from the courtyard, where the rioters were smashing at the inner gate leading into the storage room itself.
Not that way! called Mr. Chand. At the back, you will find another darwaza another gate! Turn left on the back street until you reach the chowk the market place! You will be safe there.