“Bring the lamp,” he whispered.

Dermot complied, and together they searched the ante-rooms and passages.  They were empty.  Then they looked into the small room in which the zinc bath-tub stood.  There was no one there.

The Deputy Superintendent closed the door again, and, as it had neither lock nor bolt, placed a heavy chair against it.  Taking the lamp in his hand he bent down and carefully examined the dusty floor under and around the bed.  Then he put down the lamp and drew Dermot into the centre of the room.

“Has your servant any reason to dislike you?” he asked in a low voice.

Dermot answered him in the same tone: 

“I have not brought one with me.”

The D.S.P. whistled faintly, then looked apprehensively round the room and whispered: 

“Have you any enemies in the Palace or in Lalpuri?”

Dermot smiled.

“Very probably,” he replied.  Then in a low voice he continued:  “Look here, Barclay, do you know anything of the state of affairs in this province?  I mean, politically.”

The police officer nodded.

“I do.  I’m here in Lalpuri to try to find out things.  The root of the trouble in Bengal is here.”

“Then I can tell you that I have been sent on a special mission to the border and have come to this city to try to follow up a clue.”

The D.S.P. drew a deep breath.

“That accounts for it.  Look here, Major, I’ve seen this trick with the snake before.  Not long ago I tried to hang the servant of a rich bunniah for murdering his master by means of it, but the Sessions Judge wouldn’t convict him.  If you look you’ll see that that brute”—­he pointed to the cobra writhing in agony on the bed and sinking its fangs into its own flesh—­“never got up there by itself.  It was put there.  Otherwise it would have left a clear trail in the thick dust on the floor, but there isn’t a sign.”

“Yes, I spotted that,” said Dermot, lighting a cigarette over the lamp chimney.  “I see the game.  My lamp—­which was here, for I dressed for dinner by its light—­was taken away, so that I’d have to go to bed in the dark; and, by Jove, I very nearly did!  Then I’d have kicked against the cobra as I got in, and been bitten.  The lamp would have been put back in the morning before I was ‘found.’  Look here, Barclay, I owe you a lot.  Without you I’d be dead in two hours.”

“Or less.  Sometimes the bite is fatal in forty minutes.  Yes, there’s no doubt of it, you’d have been done for.  Lucky thing I hadn’t gone to bed and heard you.  Now, what’ll we do with the brute?”

He looked at the writhing snake.

“Wait a minute.  Where are the matches?”

He picked up a box from the dressing-table, moved the chair from the door and left the room.  In a minute or two he returned, carrying an old porcelain vase, and shut the door.

“I found this stuck away with a lot of rubbish in the outer room,” he said.  “I don’t suppose any one will miss it.”