Absorbed in this exchange, Bahram had become totally oblivious to everything else that was going on around him: he was startled when he heard Zadig’s voice in his ear.
Please Bahram-bhai, can I have a word with you?
Yes. Of course.
They retreated to a quiet corner, behind a huge armoire.
There’s something I must tell you, Bahram-bhai.
Yes. What is it?
Zadig leant closer. I have it on good authority that your name was also on the arrest warrant.
What warrant? What are you talking about?
The same warrant that has been served on Dent. I have it on good authority that your name was on it this morning. You too were to be arrested. I believe your name was removed just before the Weiyuen set off to fetch Dent.
Bahram’s eyes opened wide in disbelief: But why would they want to arrest me? What have I done?
They are evidently well informed about what has been going on at the Chamber. Clearly they know that Dent has been opposing the surrender of the opium. Perhaps they have learnt of your opposition too.
But how could they know? said Bahram. And if they do, then why did they remove my name?
Perhaps they felt the Chamber might give you up in exchange for Dent.
Bahram’s voice fell to a whisper. But the commitee would not allow it surely? he said. Would they?
Listen, Bahram-bhai, you are not an American or an Englishman. You don’t have any warships behind you. If the Chamber had to surrender you or Dent, who do you think they would pick?
Bahram stared at him: his throat had gone dry but he managed to say: What shall I do then, Zadig Bey? Tell me?
You had better go back to your hong, Bahram-bhai. And maybe you should stay out of sight for a while.
Although not entirely persuaded, Bahram decided to follow Zadig’s advice. He slipped away and on the way back he had the distinct impression that the guardsmen were scrutinizing him with special care; while crossing the Maidan his instinct told him he was being watched. Everywhere he looked, eyes seemed to be following him: although he strode along as fast as he could, the two-minute walk seemed to last an hour.
Even the safety of his daftar brought little comfort to Bahram: it was as if the familiar surroundings had become a cage. When he looked out of the window, squads of guardsmen seemed to appear out of nowhere, to return his gaze; when he sat at his desk, he began to wonder what would have happened if his name had remained on the warrant. What if Howqua and Mowqua had come to the Achha Hong, with chains draped around their necks, to beg him to give himself up to the Yum-chae? He could almost hear Dinyar and the other Parsis clicking their tongues and whispering at a safe distance: Poor Shireenbai … husband in the chokey … just imagine the shame …
That night even laudanum failed to have its usual effect: the draught he took was strong enough that he was able to shut his eyes, but the sleep that came from it was neither continuous nor untroubled. At one point he imagined that his fravashi, his guardian spirit, was taking leave of him, abandoning him to make his way alone through the rest of his days on earth. He sat up to find the room plunged into a funereal darkness: even the lamp in his altar had gone out. He got groggily out of bed and kept striking matches until the divo lit up again. Barely had he closed his eyes – or so it seemed – when he was visited by another, even more disturbing vision: he saw himself stepping on to the bridge of heaven, Chinvat-pul; he saw that his way was barred by the angel of judgement, Meher Davar; he heard himself mouthing the words Kâm nemon zâm, kuthrâ nemon ayem? – ‘To which land shall I turn, where shall I go?’ – he saw the angel’s hand turning to point to the darkness under the bridge; he saw himself tumbling off the edge, falling into the fathomless chasm below.
He woke to find himself drenched in sweat – yet never had he been so glad to wake from a dream. Reaching for the bell-rope he pulled on it so hard that Vico came running up the stairs.
What’s the matter, patrão? What happened?
Vico – I want you to go to the Paoushun Hong. See what you can learn about what’s going on with Dent. And take the munshi with you too.
Vico looked at him in surprise. No work today, patrão?
No. I don’t feel well; tell them to bring my breakfast to the bedroom.
Yes, patrão.
Through the rest of the morning, Vico and the munshi took it in turns to keep Bahram informed: now the Hongists were at Dent’s house; now they were at the Chamber pleading with the members to persuade Dent to give himself up.
‘But we do not possess the authority to coerce any of our members,’ insisted the Committee.
‘What is the purpose of a Chamber then,’ responded the Hongists, ‘if it has no influence over its members?’