I must return to these personal reflections of mine later. News comes that I am wanted at once. Something has gone wrong......
It seems that the police have got a clue to the man who sank Mirjan's boat for us. He was an old offender. They are on his trail, but he should be too practised a hand to be caught blabbing. However, one never knows. Nikhil's back is up, and his manager may not be able to have things his own way.
'If I get into trouble, sir,' said the manager when I saw him, 'I shall have to drag you in!'
'Where is the noose with which you can catch me?' I asked.
'I have a letter of yours, and several of Amulya Babu's.'
I could not see that the letter marked 'urgent' to which I had been hurried into writing a reply was wanted urgently for this purpose only! I am getting to learn quite a number of things.
The point now is, that the police must be bribed and hush-money paid to Mirjan for his boat. It is also becoming evident that much of the cost of this patriotic venture of ours will find its way as profit into the pockets of Nikhil's manager. However, I must shut my eyes to that for the present, for is he not shouting Bande Mataram as lustily as I am?
This kind of work has always to be carried on with leaky vessels which let as much through as they fetch in. We all have a hidden fund of moral
