The Minister lived in a house on the outskirts of the town.  It was a one-story building, with broad airy verandahs, situate in the middle of a large garden.  When Heideck arrived, the staircase of the entrance hall was occupied by a crowd of divers people waiting to be received.  But he, as a representative of the white race, was saved the tiresome annoyance of waiting his turn.  The porter, dressed in white muslin, and adorned, as a sign of his office, with a broad red scarf, conducted him at once into the Minister’s study, a room furnished in European style.

It was only in his outward appearance, namely, his colour and his features, that the Minister looked like an Indian.  Both dress and manners were those of a Western diplomatist.  Giving Heideck his hand, he told him that His Highness himself wished to negotiate with him about the indigo business.

“The price you intend to pay is exceedingly low,” he whispered in a tone of disapproval.

Heideck was evidently prepared for this objection.

“Your Excellency may be right in saying that the price offered is lower than in former years; but it is still very high, if the changes which have since occurred in the market values are taken into consideration.  In Germany a substitute has been found in aniline, which is so cheap that within a measurable distance of time no indigo whatever will be bought.  If I may be permitted to give His Highness any advice, I would recommend him in the future to establish an industry instead of planting indigo.”

“And which, may I ask, are you thinking of?”

“Oil mills and cotton mills would appear to me to be the most profitable.  You could with them meet both European and Japanese competition.”

An Indian servant came with a message, and the Minister invited Heideck to drive with him to the Maharajah.  They entered an open carriage horsed by two quick Turkestan horses.  The yellow uniformed coachman, who had an extraordinary likeness to a dressed-up monkey, clicked his tongue, and away they went through spacious grounds to the palace, whose white marble walls soon gleamed through the foliage of the palms and tamarinds.

During the short drive Heideck pondered on the innumerable battles that had seethed over this ground, before English sovereignty had, as it seemed, stopped for ever all religious struggles, all bloody insurrections, and all the incursions of foreign conquerors.  Here, on this place, where Alexander the Great’s invincible hosts had fought and died, where Mohammedans and Hindoos, Afghans and worshippers of the sun had fought their sanguinary conflicts, works of peace had been established which would endure for generations to come.  It was a triumph of civilisation; and a student of India’s historical past could scarcely fail to be impressed by it.