Read Online The Maharajah's Monkey by Natasha Narayan - Free Book Online Page B

travel.”
    â€œSplendid.” Turning round, Aunt Hilda shouted for a coolie to convey our boxes to Mr. Prinsep’s carriage and so the thing was done. Poor Mr. Prinsep. He had wanted his damsel in distress. Well, he had got her. He’d also got Aunt Hilda, Father, myself, Rachel, Isaac and Waldo. Rather more than he’d bargained for. From our point of view the offer was providential, for the archaeological treasure my father was interested in had been unearthed in the grounds of the Maharajah’s palace.
    â€œThe heat, Kit. I don’t know how I am to stand it.” Father appeared, looking even woollier than usual. Itook his hand reassuringly, than quickly released it—too damp and sweaty.
    â€œYou could take that off,” I said, indicating his tweed jacket.
    â€œReally?” he asked surprised.
    Soon the stewards were ushering us off the ship. What an explosion of color, noise and smells greet us. Swarming coolies and crying babies. Friends and relations of the passengers waiting on the docks, penned behind bars like cattle. There was no hiding from the sun, it bathed everything in white, fierce heat. My clothes were clinging to me with perspiration and a fly had settled on my face. Swooping in and out of the crowd, with a flutter of ebony wingbeats, were a flock of carrion crows. Their harsh caws mingled with the babble, pressing confusion on us from every side.
    Odd and unnerving though this was, I was exhilarated. Of course, I had been to Egypt, but this was an utterly different land! India—this vast, teeming, spicy continent! A fever of excitement coursed through my veins. My friends felt it too, even Rachel. Our senses quickened, our minds were alert. Only father stared round with bewildered eyes, clearly more at home in the library. I would have to take care of him in this strange continent. My first task, though, was to find Champlon and his Indian.
    All around us on the docks were clumps of travelers, saying emotional goodbyes to the ship-board friends. My way was blocked by Mrs. Spragg who was saying a prolonged farewell to at least a dozen bosom friends. Her cambric handkerchief fluttered at her eyes, tears flowed down her plump cheeks, but finally she moved aside and I saw something so strange I stopped dead in my tracks.
    White-jacketed stewards had cleared a wide path through the crowd of passengers. A special ramp had been laid from the ship to the dock. Now as we watched, more sailors came and formed a human shield, blocking any hope of getting beyond their lines. At the end of the ramp waited a tikka-gharry with darkened windows. Before my amazed eyes two wheezing figures in wheelchairs, bundled in layers of blankets despite the heat, were pushed down the ramp. Following them was a hobbling individual, whose face was so bandaged up with linen that he looked like a walking mummy. Last of all came an Indian. A splendid figure dressed in a gold-and-white footman’s costume.
    I had just a moment to study the Indian. He had a sallow face with a proud beak of a nose and pop eyes set in shadowed sockets. His mouth, curved now in a sneer as he glanced neither left nor right, was full and sensual. Just a glimpse was enough to convince me that here was a man of deep selfishness, one who put his own pleasuresabove all else. This was not the face of a servant.
    On his shoulder perched a small, gibbering thing. Its face was trimmed by a ruff of white fur. Its eyes, black points in flaring yellow, peered left and right with wicked intent.
    The monkey!
    It looked straight at me and I saw that in the center of those beady pupils there was a pinpoint of white light. I could have sworn that the monkey was laughing at me. No, worse, it was looking down on me.
    â€œWho are they?” I burbled to my aunt, clutching at her sleeve. “Where did those people come from?”
    â€œI don’t know. Perhaps they were in the sick bay.”
    The sick bay! I had never thought of