'Jee-whoop!' Zachary let out a low whistle. 'And did it happen again?'

'But yes,' said Paulette. 'Many times. Always these lessons would begin with lectures and end thus. Believe me, Mr Reid, I tried always to administer my correctionments to the best of my ability, yet even though he appeared often to be in pain, my arm seemed never to be of sufficient strength. I could see that he was growing deceived. One day he said: "My dear, I regret to say as a weapon of punishment your arm is not all that could be wished for. Perhaps you need another tool? I know just the thing…" '

'What did he have in mind?'

'Have you ever seen…?' Paulette paused here, rethinking the word she was about to use. 'Here in India there is a kind of broom that is used by sweepers to clean commodes and lavatories. It is made of hundreds of thin sticks, tied together – the spines of palm fronds. These brooms are called "jhatas" or "jharus" and they make a swishing noise…'

'He wanted to be beat with a broom?' gasped Zachary.

'No ordinary broom, Mr Reid,' cried Paulette. 'A sweeper's broom. I told him: But are you aware, sir, that such brooms are used in the cleaning of lavatories and are regarded as most unclean? He was not at all deterred. He said: Why then, it is the perfect instrument for my abasement; it will be a reminder of Man's fallen nature and of the sinfulness and corruption of our bodies.'

'Now that's got to be a new way of getting your ashes hauled.'

'You cannot image, Mr Reid, what a labour it was to find that instrument. Such things are not to be found in a bazar. Not till I tried to acquire one did I find out that they are made at home, by those who use them, and are no more available to others than a doctor's instruments are to his patients. I had to summon a sweeper and it was no easy matter, believe me, to interview him, for half the household staff gathered around to listen, and I could hear them discuting with each other as to why I might wish to procure this object. Was it my purpose to become a sweeper? To rob them of their employment? But to be brief, at length I did succeed in procuring such a jharu, last week. And a few nights ago I took it to his study for the first time.'

'Pay away, Miss Lambert.'

'Oh, Mr Reid, had you but been there you would have remarked the mixture of joy and anticipation with which he regarded the instrument of his impending oppression. This was as I said, just a few days ago, so I remember well the passage he chose for his lecture. "And they utterly destroyed all that was in the city, both man and woman, young and old, and ox, and sheep, and ass, with the edge of the sword." Then he put the jharu in my hands and said: "I am the city and this your sword. Strike me, smite me, burn me with your fire." He knelt, as always, with his face at my feet and his poop-deck in the air. How he squirmed and squealed when I flailed the broom upon his rear. Mr Reid, you would have thought him to be in agony: I myself was sure that I was doing him some dreadful injury, but when I paused to inquire whether he would not wish me to stop, he positively shrieked: "No, no, go on! Harder!" So I swung back my arm and lashed him with the jhata, using all my strength – which, you may be sure, is not inconsiderable – until finalmently he moaned and his body went slack on the floor. What horror! I thought, the worst has come to pass! I have killed him for sure. So I leant down and whispered: "Oh poor Mr Burnham – are you all right?" Vaste was my relief, you can be sure, when he stirred and moved his head. But yet he would not rise to his feet, no, he lay flat on the floor and squirmed over the parquet like some creature of the soil, all the way to the door. "Are you hurt, Mr Burnham?" I inquired, following him. "Have you broken your back? Why do you lie thus on the floor? Why do you not rise?" He answered me with a moan: "All is well, do not worry, go to the lectern and read again the lesson." I went to obey him, but no sooner was my back turned than he leapt nimbly to his feet, undid the latch and hurried away up the stairs. I was retracing my steps to the lectern when I saw on the floor a curious mark, a long, wet stain, as if some thin, damp creature had crawled over the parquet. Now was I certain that in a moment's inattention a millipede or a serpent had intruded into the room – for such a thing is often known to happen, Mr Reid, in India. To my shame, I must admit, I shrieked…'

She broke off in agitation and wrung the hem of her sari between her hands. 'I know this may cause me to sink in your esteem, Mr Reid – for I am well aware that a serpent is as much our brother in Nature as is a flower or a cat, so why should we fear it? My father essayed often to reason with me on this subject, but I regret to say that I have not been able to make myself fond of those creatures. I trust you will not judge me too harshly?'

'Oh I'm with you, Miss Lambert,' said Zachary. 'Snakes are not to be messed with, blind or not.'

'You will not be surprised then,' Paulette said, 'to know that I screamed and screamed until at last one of the old khidmutgars appeared. I said to him: 'Sãp! Sãp! A serpent of the jungle has entered the room. Hunt it out!' He stooped to examine the stain and presently when he rose he said the strangest thing, Mr Reid, you will not credit it…'

'Go on, Miss: tip me the grampus.'

'He said: "This was not made by a serpent of the jungle; this is a mark of the snake that lives in Man. " I took this to be a biblical allusion, Mr Reid, so I said, "Amen." Indeed I was wondering whether I should not add an "Hallelujah!" – but then the old khidmutgar burst into laughter and hurried away. And still, Mr Reid, I did not see the meaning of any of this. All night, I lay awake, thinking of it, but at dawn, suddenly I knew. And after that, of course, I could not remain any more in that house, so I sent a message to Jodu, through another boatman, and here I am. But to hide from Mr Burnham in Calcutta is very hard – it would only be a matter of time before I am discovered, and who knows what the consequences might be? So I must flee the country, Mr Reid, and I have decided where I must go.'

'And where is that?'

'The Mauritius Islands, Mr Reid. That is where I must go.'

All this while, even as he was working the oars, Jodu had been listening intently to Paulette, so that Zachary was led to conclude that this was the first he'd heard of what had happened between her and Mr Burnham. Now, as if in confirmation, a heated argument broke out and the boat began to drift, with Jodu resting on his oars as he poured out a stream of plaintive Bengali.

Glancing shorewards, Zachary's eye was caught by a glimmer of moonlight, on the roof of a green-tiled pavilion, and he realized that they had drifted far enough downriver to draw level with the Burnham estate. Bethel loomed in the distance, like the hull of a darkened ship, and the sight of it transported Zachary suddenly to the evening when Paulette had sat beside him at dinner, looking rosily virginal in her severe black gown; he remembered the musical breeze of her voice and how, through the evening, his head had been all a-sway at the thought that this girl, with her strange mixture of worldliness and innocence, was the same Paulette he'd stumbled upon in the 'tween-deck, locked in an embrace with the laundered lascar that she called her brother. Even then he had glimpsed a kind of melancholy behind her smile: now, in thinking of what might have caused it, a memory came to him, of listening to his mother as she told the story of the first time she was summoned by the master – his father – to the cabin in the woods that he kept for bedding his slaves: she was fourteen then, she'd said, and had stood trembling by the door, her feet unwilling to move, even when old Mr Reid told her to quit her snivelling and git over to the bed.