The Maharajah of Chanidigot was, like the majority of his fellow-countrymen, a believer in Islam, and the exterior view of his palace at once betrayed the Mohammedan prince.  Away from the main building, but connected with it by a covered gallery, was a small wing—­the harem, the interior of which was sufficiently guarded from prying eyes.  Here, as in the adornment of the palace, the most splendid lavishness had been employed.  Heideck thought the while with pity on the poor subjects of the Maharajah whose slavery had to provide the means for all this meretricious luxury.  The Minister and his companion were not conducted into the large audience hall, which was set apart for special functions, but into a loggia on the first floor.  Between the graceful marble pillars, which supported it, one looked out into an inner court, which, with exotic plants, afforded an enchanting spectacle.  A gently splashing fountain, springing from a marble basin in the centre, cast up a fine spray as high as the loggia and dispersed a refreshing coolness.

The Minister left him waiting for a considerable time, but then returned and gave him a mute sign to accompany him to the Prince.

The room in which the Maharajah received them was strangely furnished, presenting to the eyes of a European a not altogether happy combination of Eastern luxury and English style.  Among splendid carpets and precious weapons, with which the walls were adorned, there hung glaring pictures of truly barbaric taste—­such as in Germany would hardly be met with in the house of a fairly well-to-do citizen.  Similar incongruities there were many, and perhaps the appearance of the Prince himself was the most incongruous of them all.  For this stalwart man with the soft black beard and penetrating eyes, who in the picturesque attire of his country would doubtless have been a handsome and imposing figure, made an inharmonious impression in his grey English suit and with the red turban on his head.

He sat in an English club chair, covered with red Russia leather and gently inclined his head in response to Heideck’s deep bow.

It did not escape the notice of the German officer that the Maharajah looked extremely annoyed, and Heideck concluded that it was the low price he had offered for his indigo which had made him so.  But the first words of the Prince reassured him.  “As I learn,” he said in somewhat broken English, “you are in fact a European, but no Englishman, and so I hope to hear the truth from you.  I am quite ready to reward you for your information.”

“I am accustomed to speak the truth, even without reward, Highness!”

The Maharajah measured him with a mistrustful look.  “I am a true friend of England,” he continued after a short hesitation, “and am on the best of terms with the Viceroy; but things are now happening which I cannot possibly understand.  This very morning I received a message from Calcutta, which absolutely astonished me.  The Indian Government intends to mass an army corps at Quetta, and calls upon me to despatch thither a contingent of a thousand infantry, five hundred cavalry, a battery, and two thousand camels.  Can you tell me, sir, what makes England mass such a large force at Quetta?”