The Hippopotamus Pool (25 page)

"They seem to be getting on better," Evelyn said, stroking Bastet as the cat rubbed against her ankles and Anubis favored Walter by clawing at his shoes.

"She allows Anubis to come within five feet of her without spitting," I replied. "That is progress of a sort, I suppose."

Hard workers though they were, our men were not averse to a little break in their labor. They gathered round; I introduced each by name and Evelyn smiled on them with her usual graciousness. Some of the older men were known to Walter, though he had not seen them for years. He was particularly friendly to Abdullah, wringing his hand and addressing him in stumbling Arabic.

"It will take me a while to regain my former fluency," he added with a laugh. "I have been studying dead languages too long, Abdullah."

"It is good to have you back," Abdullah said gravely. "And the Sitt your wife."

He withdrew when Ramses approached, tugging at a reluctant David. It could not be said that David and his grandfather were on friendly terms; the boy got on much better with the others, especially his amiable, easygoing cousin Daoud. But I knew he would come to no harm with Abdullah's eagle eye upon him.

His appearance had improved since he came to us. Most of the sores and cuts had healed; I had trimmed his hair and prevailed upon him to wash rather more often than he considered necessary. The change was comparative, however, and I suppose he still looked rather pathetic, for Evelyn's face softened with maternal pity. She was wise enough to refrain from expressing that pity, however. Instead she said, "I am very pleased to meet you, David. If you are a friend of Ramses's, you must be a friend of mine."

"We are blood brothers," Ramses explained.

"Are you indeed?" I exclaimed. "Curse it, Ramses—"

"A small amount only of the vital fluid was required," Ramses said. He jogged David with his elbow, reminding him, I supposed, that he was expected to respond.

The boy jumped. He had been staring at Evelyn.

"How do you do?" He pronounced each word slowly and carefully. Ramses nodded approvingly, and David went on, "You have the face of Sitt Miriam in the book. She is beautiful. She hold ... holds?" He glanced at Ramses, who was too thunderstruck to respond. "Hold," David repeated, "the Child. She look so to him. How do you do?"

Sitt Miriam is the name given by Egyptian Christians to the Virgin. The little speech astonished me as much as it had Ramses. I could not be sure how much of it Evelyn understood, but she was visibly moved. Impulsivelyshe held out her hand. David took it and, after a moment of hesitation, shook it gravely. "How do you do? I am very pleased to meet you."

Ramses drew him away.

"Good Gad," said Emerson, staring after them. "We appear to have a courtier in our midst. I wonder how much of that pretty speech was drilled into him by Ramses."

"Very little, I should think," I replied. "Ramses does not excel at pretty speeches."

"Hmph," said Emerson. "Well, Amelia, if you have finished with the civilities, I would like to resume work."

The rest of us followed him to the bottom of the slope in time to see a basket being lowered into the hands of Selim, who carried it off a little distance and dumped it onto the growing pile of rock chips.

"Part of the fill?" Walter asked. "It appears to be devoid of artifacts; why don't you just shove it over the edge?"

"You seem to have forgotten my rules," Emerson replied with some acerbity. "We have found little as yet, but that is no excuse for slovenly excavation technique. If you will all excuse me, I am going up."

Walter was accustomed to his brother's manners. "I will go with you. I am anxious to see the tomb."

"I believe the stairs are not yet finished, Walter," Evelyn said.

It was obvious that they were not, for Mohammed was squatting on the ground nearby working on them—simple structures of wooden steps and supports, with stakes for a rope railing.

Walter stiffened. "The rope ladder is adequate."

"At least wait until you have proper boots, and perhaps gloves to protect your hands."

It was the wrong approach entirely, as I could have told her. Men behave like little boys when someone, especially a woman, questions their fortitude. Walter might have yielded—as men go, he is relatively sensible—had not another man appeared, descending the ladder with the speed and agility of an athlete. Dropping lightly to the ground, he removed his hat and bowed to the ladies.

His easy grace made poor Walter appear even frailer and more ineffectual. I have never encountered a man whose physique matched that of my husband, but Sir Edward's working costume—especially the shirt, damp with perspiration—displayed his athletic form to best advantage.

Emerson greeted him in typical fashion. "I told you you would not be needed today."

"I had nothing better to do," was the cheerful reply. "As I said, sir, when my photographic services are not required, I will turn my hand to any other task. I have been helping Daoud label the baskets."

I deemed it wiser to allow Emerson to make the introductions, which he did, albeit grudgingly. Sir Edward had taken Emerson's warning to heart; he had hardly ventured to speak to me since he joined the staff and he had kept well away from Nefret. He bowed deferentially over Evelyn's hand and exclaimed, as he shook that of Walter, that it was an honor to meet the man whose scholarship was revered by all who were acquainted with the field of Egyptology.

Emerson studied him suspiciously, but decided there was safety in numbers and that I would be adequately chaperoned. "Come along, Walter, if you are coming. You had better precede me; I will steady the ladder from below."

"Allow me to steady it for you, Professor." Sir Edward followed them, and I heard him add, "Mr. Emerson, sir, take my pith helmet, if it fits your head; there is some danger of falling rocks."

"Oh, dear," Evelyn exclaimed. "Amelia, do try to dissuade Walter, he is not in condition for this."

"It would be a waste of time, my dear. We may as well sit down in the shade, don't you think?"

We returned to the shelter, where Evelyn entered into conversation with Gertrude, apologizing for putting her out of her room. This display of consideration appeared to surprise Gertrude very much. I suppose she was not accustomed to it; courtesy to those they consider their inferiors is rare among the upper classes.

"Mrs. Emerson's wishes are, of course, my commands." After a brief pause she added, softly but with feeling, "I only wish you could persuade her and Nefret to join me at the hotel. It would be much safer."

"Safer?" Evelyn inquired.

"Oh, it is just the usual sort of thing, Evelyn," I replied, shooting Gertrude a look of reproof. "I had intended to tell you all about it at a later time; but since the subject has been introduced, I may as well begin now."

The narrative served at least to distract Evelyn from her expectation of seeing her husband come crashing to the ground. I did not go into detail since I expected I would have to repeat the story later to Walter, and since Ramses would undoubtedly want to give his own, embellished version.

"Quite the usual sort of thing," Evelyn said with a smile, when I had finished. "Poor Miss Marmaduke! I hope you don't blame her for being nervous, Amelia; it takes a while to become accustomed to your way of life."

"I certainly didn't mean to frighten
you,"
Gertrude said earnestly. "You and your husband can be in no danger. It is Nefret I am concerned about. Won't you let her come with me, Mrs. Emerson? She could share my room and I promise I would watch over her every moment."

The very idea that Gertrude could guard the girl more effectively than we could was preposterous. She must think me a fool to propose such a scheme, and I hated to think of the language Nefret would use should I propose it to
her.

"You alarm me, Miss Marmaduke," Evelyn exclaimed. "Why do you believe Nefret is in greater danger than the others? Ramses—"

"He is not a girl," said Gertrude, looking so prim and pious that I could not help laughing.

"That is undeniable. What are you trying to say, Gertrude?"

Her eyes fell and a deep blush suffused her face; but she spoke out stoutly. "My first impression, that terrible night, was that the man had entered her room in order to ... to ..."

"Ravish her?" I inquired. "I hardly think so. That particular crime is almost unknown in Egypt, and only a madman would attack a foreign female—much less a female under the protection of the Father of Curses."

"Perhaps you are right," Gertrude murmured. "But you cannot blame me for fearing the worst. The sight of the poor child, her garment torn, her terror so great that she flew at me when I attempted to reassure her . . ."

A shudder ran through her. I said impatiently, "Yes, Gertrude, I have heard your explanation. Enough; I don't want to spoil this joyful reunion with depressing conversation. Suppose we ... Ah, but there are the men, returning. Walter is safe and sound, you see."

Safe he was, but not entirely sound; his hands were scraped, his face brightly flushed, his garments ripped and soaked with perspiration. However, when I proposed that we return at once to the dahabeeyah he looked at me in astonishment.

"Now? Out of the question. The men have found decorated fragments! They are lowering the basket now. Inscriptions, my dear Amelia, inscriptions! I distinctly saw hieroglyphic writing!"

He pulled away from Evelyn and went limping off toward Emerson, who was supervising the descent of the precious basket. I looked at Sir Edward, who had followed Walter at a discreet distance. Smoothing his damp hair, he said with his engaging smile, "I have been privileged to witness a professional discussion between two of the greatest experts in the field. There is certainly writing on one of the pieces. The Professor will want photographs, I expect; please excuse me."

"There is no use trying to get Walter away now," I said to Evelyn, who was murmuring distressfully. "Let us go to the dahabeeyah, you and I. The others can follow." Lowering my voice, I added, "I must talk to you in private."

I announced our departure to Emerson, who replied with an abstractedgrunt. Ramses was in the thick of the crowd as usual, trying to get a look at the fragments before his uncle could do so. Drawing him aside I told him to find Nefret and stay with her.

"She is with David," Ramses said. "I trust you are not implying he—"

"I am not implying anything, I am giving you an order. Don't let her out of your sight. And don't ask me why. And try not to annoy her any more than you can help."

Ramses folded his arms and raised his eyebrows. "Is there anything else, Mother?"

"Probably. But I can't think what at this moment."

He escorted us to the donkeys. Nefret and David were sitting on the ground a short distance away. Her bright head and David's black were close together, bent over something David was holding. It appeared to be a notebook resembling the ones Ramses used.

"What are they doing?" I asked, as Ramses helped his aunt to mount.

"We are teaching him to read," Ramses said.

"English? He can't even speak the language!"

"He is learning it," said Ramses. "Do you object, Mother?"

"No, I suppose not. Tell Nefret ... I had better tell her myself. Put on your hat, Nefret!"

"She does not like taking orders from Ramses," Evelyn said with a smile, as the donkeys trotted off.

"You noticed that, did you?"

"I was glad to see it, Amelia. When she first came to us she was so meek and obedient I feared she would allow Ramses to bully her—with the best of intentions, naturally. She has gained more confidence now and her natural strength of character has emerged."

"I hadn't thought of it quite that way," I admitted. "You reassure me, Evelyn, as you always do. Their constant quarreling tries my nerves, but that state of affairs is certainly preferable to Ramses's initial infatuation. He was so bedazzled he could hardly pronounce her name."

"He was only a little boy," Evelyn replied tolerantly. "I felt certain your worries on that score were unnecessary. After all, there is nothing like continued proximity to strip away the veils of romance."

It was a surprisingly cynical statement from that source. I decided not to pursue it.

"But what was it you wanted to tell me, Amelia?" Evelyn asked. "Are we private enough now?"

I slowed my mount to a walk, allowing Selim, who had escorted us, to draw ahead. "Yes, and we may not have another such opportunity in the immediate future. This is between ourselves, Evelyn. I don't want Emerson or Walter—and certainly not Ramses—to know what I am planning."

By the time we reached the
Amelia
I had explained my intention and the reasons for it. Evelyn's gentle countenance reflected a variety of emotions, but her only comment, as I had anticipated, was an assurance that she would do precisely as I asked.

We hastened, therefore, directly to the chamber Gertrude occupied. The door was not locked; there were bars on the insides of the doors but no way of securing them from the outside, and, under ordinary circumstances, no need to do so.

It was the first time since her illness that I had entered Gertrude's room. It was certainly a good deal neater than it had been. She had packed her belongings except for toilet articles and a change of clothing; two cases stood at the foot of the bed.

"What a nuisance!" I exclaimed. "I suppose she has locked them; look through the dresser drawers for her keys, Evelyn. I don't suppose she left them here, but I would rather not pick the locks unless I must."

Evelyn complied, though with visible reluctance. The task violated all her principles—and, I hardly need say, my own. However, I never allow my principles to interfere with common sense.

"Nothing," she reported, closing the drawer with her fingertips.

Expecting this, I had already extracted two hairpins from the knot at the nape of my neck. Ever since a certain memorable occasion when I had found myself with no more formidable weapon than those hairpins, I had made a point of selecting the longest and stiffest available. One had to take care when jabbing them into a chignon or braided coronet, since they did not bend at all, but the other advantages far outweighed that little difficulty.