Amelia Peabody Omnibus 1-4 (29 page)

‘I don’t need to guess,’ I replied. ‘Emerson has taken advantage of my absence to continue his excavations. He is totally without conscience! I suppose he has made another discovery. What is it? Another fragment of painting?’

Walter’s eyes were wide with surprise.

‘Miss Amelia, you astound me! You seem to read minds. How did you know?’

‘I know your brother very well,’ I replied angrily. ‘He is capable of any stupidity where his precious antiquities are concerned. At such a time as this, to waste his time and energy…. Where is he? I want to speak to him.’

‘The pavement is not far from the other one that was destroyed,’ Walter replied. ‘But – ’

‘But me no buts,’ I said. ‘The rest of you return to camp. I will fetch Emerson.’

I set off without another word, not waiting to see whether they obeyed me. By the time I found Emerson I had worked myself up into quite a state of anger. He was squatting on the ground, his tan clothing and dusty helmet blending so well with the hue of the sand that I did not distinguish his form until I was almost upon him. He was so preoccupied that he failed to hear my approach. I struck him, not lightly, on the shoulder with my parasol.

‘Oh,’ he said, glancing at me. ‘So it’s you, Peabody. Of course. Who else would greet a man by beating him over the head?’

I squatted down beside him. This posture, so difficult at first, had become easier. My knees no longer cracked when I knelt.

He had cleared a patch of pavement some three feet square. I saw the blue undersurface which denoted water, and upon it three exquisitely shaped lotus flowers, with green leaves framing the pure-white petals.

‘So this is the explanation of your plot,’ I remarked. ‘Sending me off with Evelyn in order to distract the mummy, so that you could work in peace. Thank you, Emerson, for your concern! You are the most despicable, selfish…. That is a great waste of time, you know, scooping at the sand with your bare hands. You will never clear the pavement that way. The sand trickles down as fast as you pull it away.’

Emerson grinned unpleasantly at me over his shoulder.

‘Tsk, tsk, Peabody, you are losing track of what you were saying. I am despicable, selfish – ’

‘Aren’t you even curious?’ I demanded angrily. ‘Don’t you want to know what happened last night?’

‘I know what happened.’ Emerson sat back on his haunches. ‘I went to the boat just before dawn this morning and had a talk with Hassan.’

Now that I looked at him, I realized he appeared weary. There were dark circles under his eyes, and new lines around the firm mouth. I was momentarily deflated by this, and by his calm statement. But only momentarily.

‘You did, did you? And what do you make of it all?’

‘Why, matters transpired as I expected. The mummy appeared, and was duly routed by you – ’

‘By Lucas,’ I interrupted.

‘His lordship does not appear to have been particularly useful. His collapse threw the crew into a complete panic. Even Reis Hassan – who is far from being a coward, I assure you – is afraid. I trust his lordship is fully recovered this morning from what Hassan described as a personally delivered curse?’

‘I don’t know what was wrong with him,’ I admitted. ‘If he were not such an intrepid fellow, I would suspect he simply fainted.’

‘Ha,’ said Emerson.

‘Jeer as much as you like, you cannot deny the man’s courage. He is no coward.’

Emerson shrugged and began to scoop away more sand.

‘Have you taken leave of your senses?’ I asked. ‘You have had one painting destroyed; uncover this, and it will meet the same fate. Its only safety now lies in obscurity.’

‘Perhaps its survival is not my chief concern,’ Emerson replied, still scooping. ‘We must have some lure for our mysterious visitor; better to lose this than Miss Evelyn.’

I studied him in silence for several minutes.

‘I cannot believe you mean that,’ I said finally.

‘No, I am sure you have the lowest possible opinion of me and all my works. It is true, nevertheless.’

There was a new note in his voice, one I had not heard before. Anger he had displayed, contempt, disgust; but never such weary bitterness. I felt peculiarly affected.

‘I do not have a low opinion of you,’ I said – mumbled, rather.

Emerson turned.

‘What did you say?’

We presented a ridiculous picture. Half kneeling, half squatting, Emerson was leaning forward to peer into my face. His hands rested on the ground, and his posture rather suggested that of an inquisitive orangutan. My own position, squatting on my heels with my skirts bunched up around me, was no less ludicrous. I was not conscious of absurdity or incongruity, however, I was only conscious of his eyes, blue and glittering as sapphires, holding my gaze with a strange intensity. Their look was too much to endure; my eyes fell, and my face felt uncomfortably warm.

And then the sound of a voice shattered the spell. Looking up, I saw Walter coming toward us. Emerson sat back.

‘Radcliffe,’ Walter began, ‘what do you suppose has – ’

He stopped speaking and looked from one of us to the other. ‘Is something wrong? Have I interrupted – ’

‘Nothing,’ Emerson said coldly. ‘You have not interrupted. What is it, Walter? You appear agitated.’

‘Agitated? I am, indeed! And so will you be, when you hear what transpired last night.’

‘I know what transpired,’ Emerson said, in the same cool voice.

I looked at him from under my lashes. His face was as impassive as one of the stone pharaohs in the Boulaq Museum. I decided I must have imagined the fleeting look of passionate enquiry. I was tired, after a sleepless night, and subject to fancies.

‘Then Miss Amelia has told you,’ Walter said innocently. ‘Radcliffe, something must be done, this is frightful! You must persuade the ladies to leave – now – today! Come back to camp, I beg, and use your powers of persuasion. I cannot seem to prevail with either Miss Evelyn or his lordship.’

‘Oh, very well,’ Emerson grumbled, rising to his feet.

Walter extended his hand to me. His brother stalked away and we followed. When we caught him up, Walter continued to express his horror and alarm. Finally Emerson interrupted.

‘Walter, you are babbling, and I don’t believe you have thought the matter through. Suppose we do succeed in sending Miss Evelyn away; will that solve the difficulty? If the mummy is a supernatural agent, which all you fools seem to believe, it can follow her wherever she goes. It can equally well follow her if it is not supernatural! Since you seem to be more concerned with her safety than with the success of our work here, perhaps you would agree that we ought to bend all our efforts on ascertaining the creature’s motives, and apprehending it.’

Walter looked distressed. The reasoning made some impression on his intellect, but all his protective instincts were at war with his brain; he wanted to see Evelyn out of danger.

‘Indeed,’ I put in, ‘we really have no reason to suppose that the creature means Evelyn any harm. Both of you, and Lucas as well, have taken injury, but Evelyn has not been touched. She is the only one who has not been harmed – except for me.’

‘Ah,’ said Emerson, giving me a long, thoughtful look. ‘I assure you, Peabody, that point has not escaped me.’

We finished the trip in silence. Walter was too worried, and I was too furious, to speak. I understood Emerson’s implication. Could he really suspect
me
of being behind the diabolical plot? Surely not even Emerson was capable…. But, I told myself – he was! Such a cynic, who has never had an altruistic thought in his life, is always projecting his own failings onto other people.

Evelyn and Lucas were waiting for us, and we sat down for a discussion which at first proved fruitless. The fault was mine; ordinarily I have no difficulty in making up my mind, nor in convincing others of the correctness of my decision. On this occasion I could not come to a decision.

The safest course would have been for all of us to pack up and abandon the site. This I knew Emerson would never consider, and I had a certain sympathy for his point of view. Equally impossible to me was the idea of abandoning the Emersons and sailing away. Neither of them was in perfect health; they would be helpless if the villagers should turn from passive resistance to active hostility. They had no means of summoning help. Even in busy years the remote ruins of Amarna attract relatively few visitors, and the unsettled condition in the Sudan had frightened away many travellers.

An alternative was for me to remain with my dahabeeyah, in case of emergency, while Lucas and Evelyn returned to Cairo for assistance. It would be improper for them to travel unchaperoned; but by that time I was ready to consign the proprieties to perdition, where they belonged. However, the plan had a number of difficulties. Evelyn would refuse to leave me, and Emerson would howl like a jackal at the idea of my remaining to protect him. He had the lowest possible opinion of Maspero and the Antiquities Department; the notion of appealing to them for help would offend his masculine pride.

Nevertheless, I thought it my duty to propose the scheme. It was received with the unanimous, negative outcry I had expected. Did I say unanimous? I am incorrect. The only one who did not object was the one I had expected to be most vehement. Emerson sat with his lips pressed tightly together.

Lucas was the most outspoken.

‘Abandon our friends?’ he exclaimed. ‘And you, Miss Amelia? It is not to be thought of! Furthermore, I cannot possibly agree to allowing Evelyn to risk her reputation travelling alone with me. There is only one circumstance under which such a scheme would be feasible….’

And he looked significantly at Evelyn, who flushed and turned her head away.

His meaning was clear. If Evelyn travelled as his affianced bride, the ceremony to be performed immediately upon their arrival in Cairo…. In our conventional times the proprieties might be shaken by such an arrangement, but they would not be unalterably shattered.

Walter caught the meaning as soon as I did. His ingenuous young countenance fell. Emerson had produced his pipe and was puffing away with every appearance of enjoyment; his eyes gleamed maliciously as he looked from one of us to the other.

‘Oh, this is absurd,’ I said, jumping to my feet. ‘We must make some decision. The day is passing, and I am worn out.’

‘Of course you are,’ Evelyn exclaimed, immediately concerned. ‘You must have rest, that is more important than anything else. Go and lie down, Amelia.’

‘We have not yet made a decision,’ I began.

Emerson took his pipe from his mouth.

‘Really, Peabody, this strange indecisiveness is not like you. Indeed, I am surprised at all of you. You are acting like impulsive children, ready to run from a shadow.’

‘A shadow!’ I exclaimed indignantly. ‘It was a shadow, I suppose, that struck you down with a rock; a shadow that wounded Walter!’

‘To be precise, it was an avalanche that injured me,’ Emerson replied coolly. ‘An equally unfortunate accident’ – he stressed the word, glancing at Lucas as he did so – ‘an accident caused Walter’s wound. Come, come, Peabody, use your head. To date, there is nothing to suggest that any of these mishaps were the result of deliberate malice. As for his lordship’s strange collapse last night – the body is subject to inexplicable weaknesses. Fatigue, excitements – a trifle too much wine….’

He paused, cocking his head and peering at Lucas with quizzical blue eyes. Lucas flushed angrily.

‘I deny the allegation!’

‘The only alternative is to believe in the supernatural powers of the mummy,’ Emerson replied drily. ‘That I refuse to do. I will continue to seek a rational explanation until reason leaves me altogether; and unless one of you can suggest a motive, unknown to me, why any of us should be in danger….’

Again he paused, raking us in turn with his cool stare. No one spoke.

‘No vendettas, nor feuds?’ Emerson asked mockingly. ‘No desperate lovers, or enemies burning for revenge? Very well, then; we return to the only sensible explanation for all this; it was suggested, I believe, by his lordship. The villagers wish to drive us away from here because they have made a valuable discovery. I will not be driven away. It is as simple as that.’

I could not help but be impressed by the man’s irrefutable logic. And yet in my innermost thoughts a strange uneasiness lingered.

‘Then what do you propose that we do?’ I asked.

‘I propose that we take the aggressive,’ Emerson replied. ‘So far we have not done so; we have been preoccupied with defending ourselves against fancied dangers. And that, I believe, is precisely what our opponents wish us to do. If the villagers can find a tomb, we can find it. Tomorrow I will begin searching. We will enlist the assistance of your crews. It will not be easy to do that; the men have been told by the villagers that we are under a curse. Yet I fancy that a judicious blend of flattery, appeal, and bribery will win them over. We must have sufficient manpower to protect the ladies and to conduct a thorough search. Well? What do you say? Is the scheme a good one?’

I had nothing to say. The scheme was a good one, but I would rather have died than admit it aloud. The others were clearly impressed. Evelyn’s sombre face had brightened.

‘Then you really believe that the mummy is only trying to frighten us? That no one is in danger?’

‘My dear girl, I am convinced of it. If it will make you feel safer, we will damn the conventions and spend the night huddled together in a single room. But I feel sure no such discomfort is necessary. Are we all agreed? Excellent. Then Peabody had better retire to her bed; she is clearly in need of recuperative sleep; she has not made a sarcastic remark for fully ten minutes.’

I thought I would not sleep. My mind was in a state of confusion such as I seldom permit in that organ; but on this occasion the methods I normally apply to resolve it were not effective. Something kept me from ratiocination. Mental fatigue, as well as physical exhaustion, finally sent me into heavy slumber, filled with bewildering fragments of dreams. The common theme of them all seemed to be light – bright beams of illumination that flashed on and then went out, leaving me in deeper darkness than before. I groped in the dark, seeking I knew not what.