hat is there to see in Sonahati?’ asked Lalmohan Babu. ‘Well, according to this book I’ve been reading, called Travelling in Bengal,’ Feluda replied, ‘there ought to be an old Shiv temple and a large lake. I think it’s called Mangal Deeghi. It was built by one of their zamindars. Even twenty years ago, Sonahati was little more than a village. Now it has a school, a hospital and even a hotel.’ Lalmohan Babu looked at his watch and said, ‘Another ten minutes, I should think.’ It was a new quartz he had bought recently. ‘The way it keeps time is really most terrific, he had told us. We were on our way to Sonahati at the invitation of their Recreation Club. We were accompanied by one Navjeevan Haldar, who was a famous professor of history, and had written several books. The club had organized a joint reception for Prof Haldar and Feluda. We would spend two days in Sonahati, staying at the house of the wealthiest man there, called Panchanan Mallik. He was also the president of the club. Rumour had it that he was a collector of antiques. ‘I didn’t really think you’d accept this invitation,’ Lalmohan Babu remarked, looking at Feluda. ‘I just wanted to get out of Calcutta for a couple of days,’ Feluda replied. ‘At least the air in Sonahati will be cleaner. Besides, a friend of mine—Someshwar Saha—lives there. He’s a lawyer. We used to be classmates. I am looking forward to seeing him again.’ Our train reached Sonahati more or less on time. A small group came towards us as soon as we got out. Two of them were carrying garlands, which they promptly placed around Feluda and Prof Haldar’s necks. The man who had garlanded Feluda said, ‘Namaskar. I am the secretary of our club. My name is Naresh Sen. It was I who wrote to you. And this is Panchanan Mallik.’ A middle-aged man stepped forward, a welcoming smile on his lips. I noticed he had gold buttons on his kurta. ‘We are deeply honoured to have you here,’ he said. ‘I hope you won’t find it too inconvenient to stay in my house. I mean, we couldn’t offer you all the facilities of a big city.’ ‘Please don’t worry about that. I’m sure we’ll all enjoy ourselves,’ Feluda said. ‘You are a well-known personality as well, I hear,’ Mr Mallik turned to Lalmohan Babu. ‘Well, I . . . I do a bit of writing,’ Jatayu tried looking modest. Mr Mallik’s blue Ambassador was parked outside the station. We climbed into it. ‘I have heard about your collection,’ Feluda remarked as we drove off. ‘In fact, I think I read a report on it somewhere.’ ‘Yes, it’s an old passion of mine. I have collected quite a few things. Prof Haldar here may be particularly interested for many of the items have a historical significance. My latest acquisition is the Maharshi’s shoe.’ ‘The Maharshi’s shoe? What does that mean?’ Lalmohan