We walked about the corridors and up and downstairs for ten minutes,
looking in vain for Grim. Here and there a servant snored on a mat in a
corner, and once a big dog came and sniffed at us without making any
further comment. Jeremy kicked one man awake, who, mistaking him for an
Arab, cursed him in three languages, in the name of three separate gods,
and promptly went to sleep again. The sensation was like being turned
loose in the strong-room of a national treasury with nobody watching if
you should choose to help yourself. There are acres of floor in that
building. We walked twice the whole circuit of the upper and lower
corridors, knocking on dozens of doors but getting no answer and finally
brought up in the entrance hall.
Then it occurred to me that Grim might have gone into the building by
some private entrance, perhaps round on the eastern side, so we set out
to look for one.
We had just reached the northwest angle of the building, when Narayan
Singh, who was walking a pace in front, stopped suddenly and held up
both hands for silence. Whoever he could see among the shadows must
have heard us, but it was no rare thing for officers to come roistering
down those front steps and along the drive hours after midnight, and our
sudden silence was more likely to give alarm than the noise had been.
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