Original subtitles

I've finished with this man.

Take him away.

Attention!

Prisoner escort, right turn.

Quick march.

Left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right.

The havildar arrived here in Bombay three days ago

with other ex-prisoners of war.

He's named in several of their depositions

for collaborating in prison camp with the enemy

as a member of the Frei Hind, of the German INA.

Thank you for sitting in

on the interrogation, Captain Purvis,

and for the loan of your sergeant.

God!

The officer has amoebic dysentery, I believe.

Were you able to follow the interrogation, Sergeant?

Yes, sir.

It was necessary to have a witness with fluent Urdu.

No officer with this qualification was available,

but Major Beamish in Field Security

spoke very highly of you.

Are you stationed in Bombay?

At Kalyan, sir.

I came in to report to Captain Purvis

for special duty.

Captain Purvis is not your officer.

No, sir, I only met him today.

My officer's away.

Then it's fortunate you were available.

I gather from Major Beamish that you have a degree

in history with a special interest in this country.

Did you study any Urdu at university?

Not systematically, sir.

I learned some in vacations and practiced

with a fellow student during term.

An Indian fellow student?

Yes, sir.

It's not much use, of course.

Bazaar Hindi is usually sufficient.

In my old job, at least.

What job was that, sir?

The Indian police.

I suppose you were at public school before university.

Yes, sir.

At which public school?

Chillingborough, sir.

This would've been before the war.

Perhaps you remember an Indian boy there

who called himself "Harry Coomer."

Harry Coomer, yes, sir.

Actually, Hari Kumar, of course.

Did you know him closely?

Enough to have learned his attitudes and interests?

Actually, sir, I don't remember him

being interested in anything very much, except cricket.

Cricket?

I'm afraid his interest in India extended beyond that.

His expensive education turned out to be pretty much

of a waste, as often happens in such cases.

He was arrested

with five of his friends in 1942

on a serious criminal charge.

They wriggled out of it, but fortunately

there was sufficient evidence to imprison them

on political grounds.

Was it you who arrested him, sir?

Yes, it was.

Indeed it was.

And what did you make of Havildar Karim Muzzafir Khan,

Sergeant Perron?

He seemed fairly harmless to me, sir.

Like Hari Kumar.

Well, sir, I don't remember Coomer very well.

Ah, feeling better?

Not noticeably.

I could give you something which would deal with that.

I've probably already had it.

In every sense, that is.

I see.

Thank you, Sergeant Perron.

Sir.

And thank you, Captain Purvis.

Thank God for that.

What did Major Beamish tell you about this job tonight?

Only to report to you, sir, and to bring

a change of clothes so that I shouldn't be

recognized as Field Security.

I've got those in here, sir.

Civvies?

No, sir, my Army Education Corps gear.

That'll do.

Who is Major Merrick, sir?

I noticed he has the DSO.

Has he?

Frosty sort of bugger, wasn't he?

Oh, my God.

Sir?

Shoes, have you got shoes, Sergeant?

In my kit bag, sir, with the uniform.

Thank God for that.

What's this party, sir?

The party we're going to this evening?

Actually, I don't think I'm going to make it.

You'll have to go alone.

It's all to do with security

and this Zipper Operation, so-called.

Sir?

Security.

Doesn't it make you weep?

A bloody armada assembled out there

for anyone to see, whenever you can see

through the monsoon mists.

Everything ready to go, obviously to Malaya,

obviously for a seaborne invasion,

and some silly bastard's worried about security.

Does that strike you as amusing, sergeant?

Yes, sir.

Actually, I tend to see the war

as a rather amateur production, sir.

What do you mean?

Under-rehearsed and over-long, sir.

Sorry, sir.

How did you come into Bombay?

You got transport?

No, sir, not today.

That's mine over there, you hop in the back.

I'm billeted in a block of flats near the Oval.

Sir.

Sir!

For God's sake, look where you're bloody going!

I do apologize.

Why?

Well, the officer couldn't have seen you.

I'm afraid he isn't very well.

Wasn't me he bumped into, it was Nazimuddin.

Thank you for apologizing for him.

She's gone down with Nazimuddin to hold the taxi for us.

Is John ready, Arthur?

He's coming.

No need to flap.

Oh, can we help you, Sergeant?

I was looking for the officer who just came up,

Captain Purvis.

Captain Purvis, Arthur.

Hmm?

Oh, next floor up in the Hapgoods' flat.

It's next floor up.

Thank you.

What is he doing?

Why does he take so long?

A bit slow, I think.

Sahib.

Help yourself to a drink, you'll find everything on the tray.

Thank you, sir.

Can you guess how long I've been ill, Sergeant?

No, sir.

Ever since I got off the boat.

Three months, two weeks and four days.

Bad luck, sir.

How long have you been in this bloody country?

Since '43, sir.

And before that?

Cambridge, sir.

Read history.

How the hell did you avoid getting a commission?

By always saying no, sir.

I'm sorry, but that is very ironic.

This party is in the house of an Indian lady

off the Marine Drive.

There'll be no difficulty about you going in my place.

It's the kind of flat where officers and men fraternize.

Not to mention white, black and in between.

Sexually, I'd say some of the company

is on the ambivalent side.

Will that worry you?

I don't think so, sir.

There'll be some girls there as well,

if you can sort them out.

Apart from unambivalent girls, sir,

what else should I look out for?

As far as I'm concerned, sergeant,

this whole thing is an utter waste of time.

You're not going to arrest anyone, are you?

At least not for spying.

This all happened because I made a casual remark

to some damn fool officer about a weird party I'd been at

where I'd heard a lot of careless talk

about the Zipper invasion landing

somewhere near Port Swettenham.

Next thing I know, I'm hauled in by your Major Beamish

and told I'll have to go back with a Field Security chap

in disguise.

I thought he was joking.

Are we landing near Port Swettenham, sir?

How the hell do I know?

I'm an economist.

Does it bore you to call people "sir"?

No, sir.

What is your actual job, sir, if I may ask?

You may well ask.

I ask myself.

All I can tell you is I'm waiting for a call

from Delhi that never comes.

India.

My God.

Why don't we give it back, eh?

Or sell it off to the highest bidder.

Now we've got a Labour government at last,

perhaps we shall.

Wouldn't that be rather unfair, sir?

Selling out, I mean.

Historically, we have some moral obligation, surely.

Moral obligation?

For heaven's sake, Sergeant.

You've been in India, what, two years?

It's taken me no more than

three months to write it off as a wasted asset,

ruined by expendable buggers

from the upper and middle classes who come out here

to chuck their weight about.

Have you ever felt the only way to survive a war

was to treat it as totally unreal?

The thought has struck me, sir.

Ever succeeded?

From time to time.

I envy you.

I don't seem to have the capacity.

Six years of criminal waste.

History, you said?

Seriously, or just a way of spending your gilded youth?

I intend to continue.

Well, it's different for you.

You can make history into a study of human folly.

Sometimes I feel I shall never be able to forgive the waste.

I had a breakdown, you know.

Two years ago.

I'm sorry to hear that, sir.

What do the doctors say about your illness?

I haven't seen any.

Do you think that's wise?

Yes, I do.

I can't afford to be ill, Sergeant.

Not for a day, not for an hour.

I'm waiting for that message and about a 50-50 chance

of salvaging something from the utter waste and ruin

of my career.

I'm waiting for Delhi.

Are those your paintings, sir?

Behind you?

Nothing's mine.

I'm only billeted.

Everything belongs to the bloody English bank official

who owns this flat.

They're 18th century in the Basohli style.

I wonder if he knows how valuable they are.

I shouldn't think so.

His lady wife would've locked them up.

Personally, I wouldn't know a work of art

from a bee's arse.

Why should one bit of colored canvas be worth thousands

and another sod all?

Would you mind freshening this?

Not at all, sir.

With rum, and fix another for yourself.

I think I'd better keep a clear head, sir, for the party.

I'll write you a note.

And you can take a bottle of some very special whisky

I brought with me from England and present it to our hostess.

Not that I think you'll have any trouble getting in.

She's a Maharanee, incidentally.

Really, sir?

And lives in a place called Sea Breezes,

would you believe?

So pop on this disguise of yours and have a look-see.

Sir.

Hello.

Hello.

I've got a note and a package.

For me?

Oh, it's for Auntie.

What a jolly shame.

But please, do come in.

Thank you.

Auntie has been resting, but she's finished now.

She says it is good for me to welcome guests.

Once I was very shy, but I am not anymore.

Oh, what is your name?

Then I can tell Auntie who it is.

Perron, Sergeant Perron.

Come here.

Come closer, I can't see who you are.

Your Highness, we haven't met.

I've brought you this and a note from Captain Purvis.

Captain Purvis?

He must be one of Jimmy's friends.

When Jimmy's in Bombay, he brings so many people.

He sent a bottle of rather special whisky.

Whisky?

Leonard Purvis?

Who is this Leonard Purvis?

What is your first name?

Guy.

There's also Percival, but I'm not at all keen on it.

Names are a terrible problem.

It's best to make them up.

Will you stay to my party?

Thank you.

It may be boring.

It's difficult to tell.

It depends on who comes.

Anyway, tonight, Aneila tells me it has begun well.

What do you do?

Very little, I'm afraid.

What a relief.

People are always dashing about.

Where are you staying?

At a place called Kalyan.

Ah, then you're on Zipper.

Nearly all the people who come here nowadays

are on Operation Zipper.

Aneila will take you in and get you a drink.

You must ask her to dance.

Thank you, Your Highness.

And you must call me Aimee.

Pandy and I are divorced, but I keep the title.

Servants and shopkeepers like it.

Aneila, do stop hovering!

And take this young man in.

Yes, Auntie.

Please, will you come?

And tell one of the boys to bring me a glass.

Yes, Auntie.

What will you have to drink?

Auntie says all sergeants like beer,

but there was one the other night

who asked for White Lady.

Were you able to oblige him?

Oh, yes.

It takes ages.

You have to put the glass in the refrigerator.

Good evening.

We meet again.

Do you know each other?

I'm awfully glad-- I'm so bad at names.

Perron.

Sarah Layton.

Miss Layton, do you want to powder your nose?

Thank you.

Please, join the guests, Mr. Perrer.

Auntie says men can always introduce themselves.

And I will show Miss...

Layton.

...Miss Layton where to powder her nose.

Thank you.

Please.

Come in, young man, come in.

I'm afraid I'm an interloper.

There are no interlopers at Aimee's parties.

They are the rule.

Allow me to introduce myself.

Dmitri Bronowsky.

Sergeant Perron.

This is my secretary, Mr. Ahmed Kasim.

Younger son of Mr. Mohammed Ali Kasim,

a celebrated politician of whom you may have heard.

How do you do?

And Mr. Ronald Merrick.

Excuse me, sir.

Of the Indian police, but at the moment employed

as a major in the Punjab Regiment.

Good evening, Sergeant.

Sir.

Now, what does this mean?

AEC?

Army Education Corps.

Ah.

And how does one educate an army?

One tries to find ways of stopping it from being bored.

You have qualifications?

A degree?

Yes, sir.

You should stay in India after the war.

We're short of teachers.

In our own college in Mirat, for instance.

Are you its principal, sir?

I?

No.

Count Bronowsky is the Chief Minister

to the ruler, the Nawab of Mirat.

Oh.

The Hindu college was one of my first innovations.

Before that, there was only the Muslim academy,

which taught boys to recite the Quran

and turned out tax collectors.

If Ahmed here will forgive me.

Not that he had such a traditional Islamic training,

did you?

What?

Incorrigible.

He seldom listens to conversations.

He comes to parties only to drink as much whisky

as he can and to make up to the prettiest girls.

And here are two.

Aneila, my dear.

Was I in error in supposing your aunt said 7:00?

Where is Aimee?

Oh, no, Auntie's parties begin when people arrive.

But I'll tell her to hurry.

Raju?

Please, please take what you want.

Thank you.

Do you know Mr. Perron of the Army Education Corps?

Yes, we introduced ourselves in the hall.

Am I right in supposing that our hostess

is somewhat unorthodox?

Unorthodox, yes.

Your father must be the Congress statesman, MAK.

Yes, he is.

Are you in Bombay for long?

A few days.

It must be very interesting working

for a Nawab's Chief Minister.

Is Count Bronowsky what we used to call a White Russian,

an emigré?

Yes.

A soldier?

I wondered about his loss of an eye.

He says his carriage was blown up by a revolutionary

on his way to the Winter Palace.

Has he been in Mirat long?

About 25 years.

Before he came, the state was quite feudal.

He's been a good influence on the Nawab.

Does Miss Layton have any connection

with Mirat?

She and the Count seem to be old friends.

She visited once.

Her sister got married there.

She lives in Bombay?

No, Pankot.

Pankot?

Why, do you know it?

Only its regiment, the First Pankot.

I saw a man today.

Her father was CO of the First Battalion.

She's in Bombay to meet him.

He's been a prisoner of war in Germany.

So Colonel Layton's back in India now?

Yes, I think...

Ahmed, darling, what are you doing in Bombay?

Oh, darling, is it true what they told me

about your poor brother, Sayed?

Hey, Sarge.

What do you reckon, then, eh?

Reckon?

You know, I mean, it doesn't look like a...

What do they rush you for the booze?

They don't, it's usually free at parties.

Are you on your own?

No, no, I'm with him.

Come here.

What do you mean, parties?

Isn't this Aimee's?

That is the hostess's first name.

The rotten bas...

They told us this was...

Aimee's, flat number two.

Six chips each.

I think you're the victim of a practical joke.

Dead right.

Maybe we'd better blow before we get chucked out.

I don't think you will be.

Thank you.

Hold on to these, you'll be less conspicuous.

Cheers, Sarge.

Cheers.

Hey.

Take a dekko at that lot over there.

Hey, Sarge, do you think they'd mind if we said hello?

I think they'd be delighted, but...

Right, come on, Jim.

Let's try our luck.

Thanks, Sarge.

Corporal?

A bit of advice from my old sergeant major.

Beware the mysteries of the Orient.

Don't worry about us, Sarge.

We know the game.

Will we save you one, eh?

No, thank you.

A word with you.

Are you on duty?

Yes, sir.

I take it this disguise is permitted?

In certain circumstances, yes, sir.

Always a bit risky, though, isn't it?

For instance, Miss Layton has just told me

about her meeting with you earlier this afternoon.

In your other uniform.

Not in anyone else's hearing, I hope, sir.

No, but quite properly, she thought I ought to know.

Are you expecting Captain Purvis?

No, sir.

Will you go back to his flat?

I shall have to, sir, to change.

I was thinking of making our excuses

and taking Miss Layton home.

Can you tell me if the reasons

for your presence here are likely to become

apparent through some kind of unpleasantness?

I'm not sure I understand you, sir.

It's all fairly routine from my point of view.

Routine?

I sympathize with you, Sergeant, if this is routine.

I don't mean the party, sir.

I mean my reasons for being at it.

You see nothing odd about the party?

It's a bit noisy, sir.

Of course, it does have an unusual aspect--

other ranks mixing with officers--

but of course, I knew that, sir, before I came.

I begin to wonder about your powers

of observation, Sergeant.

Have you an identity card with you?

Yes, sir.

Would you show it to me if I asked to see it?

No, sir.

If I ordered you to?

No, sir.

Let me put it to you, Sergeant.

I have seen you in one place, apparently bona fide,

but here I find you in another role

and in the most unsavory surroundings.

I have suspicions about your true identity.

I ask you to show me your card, you refuse.

I call another officer to ring for the Military Police.

What then?

Presumably I should be arrested, sir.

And then?

And then, sir, we should see.

Major Beamish was right.

About what, sir?

About your being a tough nut to crack.

I only wanted to find out how easy it would be

to force you to act against your better judgment.

May I ask why, sir?

Not here.

I would like to caution you to observe discretion

on two other matters.

I would ask you to say nothing to Miss Layton

about Havildar Karim Muzzafir Khan.

In fact, nothing at all about the circumstances

in which we met earlier today.

The other taboo subject, at least in front

of Miss Layton, is Hari Kumar.

Will you remember that?

Yes, sir.

Mr. Perrer, Mr. Perrer!

Mr. Perrer?

Where is the Sergeant?

Over there.

Oh, here you are!

Thank goodness you're still here.

Auntie's asking for you.

Please come quickly, she's in such a terrible temper

and won't come out.

So embarrassing with all these people here.

I expect we shall be here for a while.

Please, Sergeant, come to Auntie.

Quickly, do.

Shut the door!

I cannot stand it!

Please, Auntie, don't shout.

People will hear.

How can they hear?

They are making so much noise, I cannot hear myself speak.

Taste it.

Taste it!

What is this Purvis creature trying to do, poison me?

You see?

It's disgusting.

Taste it.

The taste is even more disgusting than the smell.

Aneila, why are you standing there doing nothing?

Get Mr. Perron a glass!

Actually, Your Highness,

it's a very fine and rare old malt whisky.

An acquired taste, admittedly.

It's disgusting.

What is keeping you, Aneila?

I said, bring Mr. Perron a glass!

I'm bringing it, Auntie.

Here, here I am.

Pour him one.

Well, is it not disgusting?

Not to my way of thinking, Your Highness.

It might seem a little smoky, but that's part of its charm,

to people who like it.

They must be depraved, then.

They are all barbarians who come to my parties.

Surely, Your Highness...

Who else is here?

Aneila tells me nothing.

Well, I think several who are not barbarians.

There's a charming English girl...

How can she be charming?

I detest English girls.

They're always so stupid and rude.

They come out here because in England, they are nobody

and wouldn't be looked at twice.

Aneila, the party is canceled.

Tell the servants to lock up the drinks.

Tell them to go to bed.

I'm ill!

Poisoned by this Purvis creature!

Auntie, what can I say to everybody?

And take that bottle and drink it yourself,

if you like such stuff.

Very well, Your Highness.

I'm sorry if anything...

Only take it!

I cannot stand the smell.

We leave Bombay tomorrow.

It is full of spongers and hangers-on.

Oh, Auntie!

Why have we come away?

I'm afraid the Maharanee didn't like the whisky

I gave her from Captain Purvis.

Oh?

What was wrong with it?

Nothing, in my opinion.

It was Old Sporran.

The genuine thing?

How extraordinary.

My father was talking about it only the other day.

Poor Aimee.

She has never been able to make up her mind

what she really wants from life.

My most abject apologies for the failure

of the evening.

May I offer you and Miss Layton

some entertainment for what is left of it?

That's very civil of you, Count,

but Miss Layton has a tiring journey

ahead of her tomorrow.

I understand.

What about you, Mr. Perron?

Well, thank you, sir, but...

What the sergeant means, Count,

is that he must get back to camp.

He has no late pass.

I have agreed to drop him off there.

I hope you understood.

I made that offer whilst we were at the party.

More or less, sir.

A lift back to camp seems the least we could do.

You saved Miss Layton the embarrassment

of finding the drinks locked up

and the servants gone.

I find it inexplicable.

It is India.

I hope, Mr. Merrick, you are not plagued still

by such incidents as occurred when you were in Mirat.

The stone, the wailing widow.

Has all that sort of thing died down?

Yes, thank you.

Too bad.

For our part, we've had no further visits

from the venerable Pandit Baba.

It was the boy's aunt, I think,

whom he brought with him to the station

on that occasion.

You never met the girl's aunt, Lady Manners, did you?

Lady Manners, did you?

No.

Does your driver remember which block?

We're almost there.

If you are ever in Mirat,

a note to the Izzat Bagh Palace

will always find me, even if we're up at Nanoora.

Good night, Mr. Perron.

Good night, sir.

Thank you.

Good night, Kasim.

Good night, Mr. Kasim.

Good night.

I often think of Mirat and our ride together that morning.

Do you still go out regularly?

Not as often as I should.

Good-bye, Miss Layton.

Good-bye.

Come down to the Graces' flat when you're ready.

It's on the first floor.

Yes, sir.

Count Bronowsky, I would have liked you to meet my father,

but Aunt Fenny and Uncle Arthur have persuaded him to go out

and I'm afraid they won't be back yet.

I understand.

And you have the journey tomorrow.

Please give my kindest regards to your mother

and of course to your sister, too.

And I hope your father will be fit again very soon.

Au revoir,Miss Layton.

Good-bye.

Thank you, Count, for a most interesting evening.

Good night, Major Merrick.

Sir, what to do, what to do?

What?

Come, sahib, come!

What happened?

Sahib Purvis, drunk, sleeping.

Hold that.

Captain Purvis?

Captain Purvis, it's Sergeant Perron.

Captain Purvis?

Bathroom, sahib.

Captain Purvis, are you all right, sir?

I'll have to break it in.

No, sahib, no!

I'll write a chit for the door.

Christ!

Help me! Grab his feet!

Wait!

In the bedroom.

Sahib dead?

I don't know.

Come on, in the bedroom.

Okay, put him down.

Get a towel, quick.

Right, now you go downstairs to the first floor.

Ring Colonel Grayside's bell.

Ask for Major Merrick, anyone, understand?

Yes, sahib.

Wait!

Say, "Doctor, ambulance, Purvis sahib."

Quick.

Go on!

Come on, sir.

That's done.

He's on his way to hospital in a blood wagon.

Simpson says he'll be all right and...

you did a splendid job.

I don't think you need worry further about Captain Purvis.

When he's recovered, they'll hand him over to the, uh...

psychiatric people.

Hmm.

Kangra painting, isn't it?

I wish I'd kept quiet about it.

Perhaps he'd have left them alone.

I think this was the cause.

"Area Command, Delhi, mission canceled.

"Await further orders.

Southeast Asia Command."

Doesn't seem much.

I think he'd just had enough.

How many of those have you had now?

This is my third.

Hmm.

You'll suffer from delayed shock.

I think you should get your proper clothes

and come downstairs and clean up.

Miss Layton's invited us for a meal.

Has she, sir?

Then I'll come.

You will remember which subjects are taboo downstairs, won't you?

The havildar.

And Harry Coomer.

Good.

Perhaps you'd tell me what Coomer did, sir.

He and his friends raped an English girl.

I was amazed that Count Bronowsky thought fit

to mention it in front of a woman.

I find it difficult to imagine Coomer raping anybody, sir.

But you didn't really know him.

Are you one of those people who thinks

that if you teach an Indian the rules of cricket,

he'll become an English gentleman?

Hardly, sir.

I know quite a few Englishmen who play cricket brilliantly

and are absolute...

Do you?

I think it might be a nice gesture

to take the whisky and give it to Miss Layton...

seeing as her father is so fond of it.

Good idea, sir.

And then I'll take you back to camp.

By the way, I'm arranging to have you attached

to my department.

You'll get the signal at Kalyan tomorrow.

That's very kind of you, sir, but I don't think

my department will allow that.

I think you'll find they're overruled.

We mustn't keep Miss Layton waiting, must we?

Shall we go down?

I'll just get my bag, sir.

The subject of the havildar is taboo

because it would upset Colonel Layton.

The havildar's in his regiment, sir?

Correct.

Neither he nor Miss Layton know that I've questioned the man.

Colonel Layton believes, of course,

that he could straighten things out with him in a few minutes.

But I'm against that.

Isolation breaks the prisoner's will,

increases the readiness to talk.

Shall I relieve you of that?

Sarah.

I've got Sergeant Perron here.

Hello. Are you all right?

I think he's still a bit groggy.

If you are, I don't wonder.

I'll show you where you can freshen up.

Thanks.

Father's come home early, Ronald.

He was feeling rather tired.

Would you like to go and sit with him?

Of course.

It's in here.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Do bathe or shower if you want to.

There's a large green towel on the rail

that hasn't been used.

If you want to borrow anything, I'm sure Father wouldn't mind.

Oh, it's very kind of you, Miss Layton,

but I've got a change of clothes in here.

My correct uniform, the one you saw me in this afternoon.

Yes, of course.

I'll leave you to it, then.

How hungry are you?

Not really at all.

Well, you should eat.

Aunt Fenny thought we'd all be out,

so I'm afraid there's only some cold chicken and salad.

And what Aunt Fenny calls "a shape."

I'm rather partial to shape.

Good.

Nazimuddin can bring you a drink.

Or perhaps you'd prefer some of your whisky?

I rather think I've had enough.

Major Merrick suggested we should make a present

of it to your father.

Will he be insulted by the leftovers?

Not of that whisky.

How very kind of you.

Just come along when you're ready.

Okay.

What is it, Ronald?

You've been so long, I thought our sergeant friend

was suffering some reaction.

Actually, sir, we've been discussing the attractions

of blancmange.

Oh, you're having shape again, then?

Well, if it's one of the sergeant's favorite afters...

We'll let him get changed.

Thank you, Ronald.

Bugger you, too, Merrick.

Sahib.

Feeling better?

Yes, thank you.

Father, this is Sergeant Perron.

My father, Colonel Layton.

Good evening, sir.

Hello.

Take a seat, Sergeant.

Hear you've been in the wars a bit tonight.

Well, the evening has been rather hectic, yes, sir.

Mine, too.

Thought I'd give the rest of it a miss.

Perron...

There was a Perron at the school I was at.

Younger than me, before the First World War,

at Chillingborough.

That would have been my father, sir.

Was it indeed?

So you're Perron's son, then.

I don't suppose I've thought of him

since I left.

Is he still going strong?

He was killed in 1918, sir.

Oh, I'm sorry.

And your mother?

She died in 1919 of Spanish flu.

You poor fellow.

Still, you'll be too young

to remember anything about that, I imagine.

Yes, sir.

No, thank you, sir.

Actually, I had a very pleasant childhood.

I was brought up by a rather eccentric aunt.

Eccentric enough to send you to Chillingborough?

Yes, sir.

Fine athlete.

Perron.

I think your father's tired, Sarah.

Ronald thinks you're tired, Father.

Are you?

Not in the least.

I tell you what I'd like, though.

A peg of that whisky of Ronald's.

Why don't we all do that?

It wasn't Ronald's whisky, Father.

It was Sergeant Perron's.

And before that, a Maharanee's.

Nazimuddin, whisky lai.

Is that so?

Why, I'm very grateful whosever it was.

Extraordinary thing.

The name of that particular brand came up

in the last conversation I had in camp.

I was saying goodbye to this Uberleutnant

and he said he'd think of me in future

sitting in a comfortable room,

sipping Old Sporran and reading Pride and Prejudice.

Apparently, I'd told him a few months before,

that's what I dreamed of doing when I got home.

He'd remembered it so accurately.

I must say, I found that rather touching.

Something one says quite casually,

capturing another chap's imagination,

staying in his mind.

Nice fellow.

Very correct, very formal.

But fair.

Yes, very fair.

Will you join us for supper, Father?

What?

Supper?

Oh, no, no.

Had my supper.

In any case, I've still got the unexpired portion

of the day's ration if I get peckish.

Supper in ten minutes, Nazimuddin.

For three.

Extraordinary.

I haven't held a bottle of this for years.

I remember my father.

Saying...

Come on, Daddy, you've had a long day.

Yes.

I think I'll turn in... if you'll excuse me.

Glad we met.

Good night, sir.

Anyway, he wasn't really sleepy.

Just tired of company.

He said he'd read for a while.

Jane Austen?

Probably.

I'm afraid he was talking again about the havildar.

It's quite pointless.

A complete waste of time.

I know, but it's for you to explain.

I thought I had.

I'm sorry, we're talking of something

you know nothing about.

There's a havildar in my father's regiment

who apparently joined the Frei Hind in Germany.

Father wants to see him,

but Major Merrick says it's impossible.

There's an order prohibiting contact

between INA prisoners and their officers.

It's not as though your father's opinion won't be asked for.

Someone will come up to Pankot and take a statement

from him at the proper time.

Will the person coming up be you, Ronald?

Possibly.

Would you like me to speak to your father now?

There'll be no opportunity tomorrow

before you catch the train.

And as Aunt Fenny isn't here, she won't be hurt

if I refuse the shape.

I should be very grateful.

If you wouldn't mind.

Very well.

Nazimuddin can give my helping to the sergeant.

It'll build him up.

Not that he looks starved, exactly,

but then, sergeants seldom do.

We'll hold coffee for you.

Does it seem strange?

My father's concern.

Hill regiments are very close-knit.

My father can look at the nominal roll

and draw a family tree of nearly every man in it.

Does that strike you as silly?

No, admirable.

And sad.

Wouldn't you say sad?

Particularly if you'd seen most of them die,

and the rest carted off as prisoners.

Yes, very sad.

At Chillingborough, do you remember someone?

A boy called Harry Coomer?

Harry Coomer?

Or Nigel Rowan?

Nigel Rowan.

Yes.

But only as one of the minor figures

on Olympus would have known Zeus.

Came out here in the army, didn't he?

As he was always walking away with Classics prizes,

I thought that rather a curious choice.

Does he still have what I recall as...

a very detached and patrician manner?

I think it is only a manner.

Will you have some jam?

It makes it taste a little.

Yes, it does need something.

What... what does your uncle, Colonel Grace, do exactly?

He runs a course for young officers,

to attract them into the Civil or the police

when the war is over.

Does he have much success?

More in Bombay than Calcutta.

He expects even more

now Labour's won the election in England.

Yes.

I suppose some people think the prospects

at home are pretty bleak now.

But aren't they even worse over here?

Well, it depends.

If Uncle Arthur's right

and there's a prolonged handing-over period,

he says the Indians will be glad

to have experienced Englishmen working with them.

I don't think he is right.

I don't think there will be a long handing-over period.

Why?

Because that would be the logical thing.

I think the whole situation's become too emotional

for logic to come into it.

And how will you feel about it when it happens?

I don't think I'll want to stay on.

Why, especially?

I don't think it's a country one can be happy in.

You'd be happy in England?

Probably not.

I am sorry you don't remember Hari Kumar.

Nigel does.

I think that's settled it.

I hope he understands the problem better now.

I think we'll skip coffee, too, if you don't mind.

I've got rather a lot of work to do

back at the hotel, and before that, of course,

I've got to drop the sergeant off at Kalyan.

If you're ready.

Yes, sir.

Perhaps Mr. Perron would like some more shape?

No, but thank you very much.

It wasn't very good, was it?

Incidentally, my father asked me to make sure you know

how grateful he is for the whisky.

And he's sorry he was so much under the weather.

Well, I hope he feels better soon.

I'll call for you tomorrow and take you to the station.

Thank you, Ronald.

Until tomorrow, then.

Good-bye, Mr. Perron.

Good-bye.

Don't forget your pack.

No, I won't, thank you.

Thank you, sir, I'm grateful for the lift.

Good night, sir.

One case you'll find very interesting

when you join me is that of the brother

of the young Indian you met tonight.

Ahmed Kasim?

Mmm.

His brother Sayed went over to the INA in Malaya.

Intriguing when you remember that his father

is an ex-Chief Minister.

Right.

I'll see you in a couple of days, then, at the most.

Oh, no, you won't.

You bloody well won't.