Lion In The Valley Part 11

"But, Mrs. Emerson-"

"You had better call me Amelia. Formality is absurd under these circ.u.mstances."

"My name is Enid. It is my real name," she added, with a rueful smile. "When I chose my nom de guerre, I took the chance of retaining my true first name. It is hard to respond, with instinctive ease, to one that is unfamiliar."

"Good thinking. You see, you have a talent for deception that is worth cultivating. But please don't employ it when you tell me about your cousin."

Enid started violently. "Who?"

"Your kinsman. Ronald-I forget his other name. Is he the sort of person who could help us in our investigation?"

"Ronald! I beg your pardon; I never think of him as a cousin, since the relationship is so distant. No. Ronald is the last person on whom I would depend in time of trouble. He is an amiable, empty-headed young man who has never done a useful day's work in his life, or employed his brain for anything more demanding than totaling up his gambling debts." who has never done a useful day's work in his life, or employed his brain for anything more demanding than totaling up his gambling debts."

"He sounds a most unattractive person."

"No," Enid said. "Physically he is quite handsome; he has an engaging manner and can be the most amusing companion in the world."

"But you don't want me to tell him where you are- rea.s.sure him as to your safety?"

"Heavens, no. I am sure Ronald is concerned about me-in so far as he is capable of being concerned about anyone but himself. But I am equally certain he didn't put himself out hurrying to Cairo. He has been in Egypt for some weeks, on-on business.... Which he abandoned in order to go hunting in the Sudan."

An indefinable but unmistakable change in her voice and look made me suspect she was holding something back. As later events proved, I was correct, but I will frankly admit-since candor is a quality I prize, and since my errors in judgment are so infrequent as to be worthy of mention-that I was mistaken as to the cause of her reticence. Young ladies often abuse a gentleman in whom they have an intense personal interest. I a.s.sumed Miss Debenham was in love with her cousin and was ashamed to admit it because she considered him unworthy of her affection.

Delicacy, therefore, prevented me from pressing the subject, and Enid made it even more difficult for me to do so by reminding me that the men were waiting for my command to begin digging.

After several hours we halted for refreshment. Sitting before our tents, we applied ourselves to eggs and tea, and fresh bread from the village, with good appet.i.te. Emerson's humor had improved, thanks to the discovery of some blocks of cut stone which betokened the presence of some sort of structure. of some blocks of cut stone which betokened the presence of some sort of structure.

Ramses, of course, had to express his evaluation. "In my opinion, Papa, we have found signs of two distinct building periods. Since the cult of Sneferu the Good was popular in Ptolemaic times, it is probable-"

"Ramses, your papa is perfectly well aware of that," I said testily.

"I only wished to suggest that extreme care must be taken in order to discover-"

"Again, Ramses, let me remind you that there is no excavator in the field today whose skill equals that of your papa."

"Thank you, my dear," said Emerson, beaming. "Are you having a good time with your little pyramid?"

"Yes, thank you, Emerson."

Before I could draw breath to continue, Ramses addressed Enid, requesting her opinion on what we had accomplished thus far. It might have been only a courteous attempt to draw her into the conversation. But I doubted that it was.

Enid distracted him by seizing the cat, who was sniffing around her ankles. I was surprised the aristocratic creature permitted the liberty. She was on good terms with me and had a certain tolerant affection for Emerson, but Ramses was the only person whose caresses she actively encouraged.

The distraction proved effective, for Ramses then asked about Enid's pets-having deduced, as he explained at length, that she must have owned a cat or she would not know the precise spots to scratch. When Enid replied that she had several dogs and a dozen cats, most of whom had been abandoned by cruel owners, Ramses' countenance took on quite a pleasant look of approval.

As he sat cross-legged beside her, his curly head tipped to one side and his black eyes bright with interest, one might have taken him for a normal little boy-so long as he kept his mouth closed.

All at once, Emerson leaped to his feet, dropping his bread and b.u.t.ter (b.u.t.tered side down, of course) onto the rug. He shielded his eyes with his hands and looked east, toward the rising sun. "Upon my word, Amelia, I believe it is a group of cursed tourists. And they are coming this way."

"That is hardly surprising, Emerson," I replied, trying to sc.r.a.pe the b.u.t.ter off the rug, which was a handsome old Bokhara. "You know that is one of the disadvantages of working at Dahshoor. Though not so popular as Giza and Sakkara, it is mentioned in the guidebooks."

"Did you ever see such absurd figures?" Emerson demanded. "Green umbrellas, flaps of cloth about their heads..."

Compared to Emerson, they did look ridiculous. Hatless, his bronzed throat and arms bared, he was in tune with his surroundings as few foreigners in Egypt could be. But then Emerson is a remarkable man. He has never suffered from sunstroke or sunburn or even from catarrh, though he absolutely refuses to wear a flannel belt, which, as every physician knows, is the only certain preventative for that common affliction.

The little caravan approached us. None of the riders was accustomed to donkeyback; they bounced up and down like jumping jacks on strings. Emerson pushed his sleeves to his shoulders. "I will just go and run them off."

"Wait, Emerson...." But I was too late. Emerson's long legs carried him swiftly toward the enemy.

His raised hand brought the procession to a halt. One stout gentleman fell off his donkey and was hauled to his feet by a pair of grinning donkey boys. A lively discussion ensued. I could not make out the words, except for an occasional expletive from Emerson, but the gestures of the partic.i.p.ants left no doubt as to their state of mind. stout gentleman fell off his donkey and was hauled to his feet by a pair of grinning donkey boys. A lively discussion ensued. I could not make out the words, except for an occasional expletive from Emerson, but the gestures of the partic.i.p.ants left no doubt as to their state of mind.

Enid chuckled. "I am reminded of Aunt Betsy, in d.i.c.kens' charming novel," she said.

"Like Aunt Betsy, Emerson will prevail," I said, b.u.t.tering another bit of bread.

Sure enough, after a while the caravan turned away, heading for the North Pyramid, and Emerson returned, refreshed and exhilarated by the encounter. We all went back to work except for the cat Bastet, who yawned and sauntered into the tent to take a nap.

I did not expect the discoveries of that first day to be momentous, and they were not-only the usual pottery shards and fragments of funerary objects. The whole area was one vast cemetery-a city of the dead whose population far exceeded that of any metropolis, modern or ancient. I showed Enid the proper procedure for dealing with such finds, for we kept scrupulously accurate records of every object, no matter how undistinguished.

There was little going on to occupy my mind, so I was able to devote part of my attention to working out an answer to the question people kept asking me. How indeed to attract the attention of the Master Criminal? I sympathized with Mr. Nemo's disinclination to sit with folded hands until that gentleman decided to make his next move. Tactically and psychologically it would be to our advantage to take the initiative and encourage an attack. What I needed was a treasure-a cache of royal jewelry like the one that had attracted the M.C.'s interest the year before. Ramses had found one such cache at Dahshoor. (In fact, I was fairly certain he had found two; the treasure of Princess Khnumit, which M. de Morgan had produced with such fanfare at the end of the season, might have been his reward for promising to yield the site to us. I had not questioned Ramses about the matter and I had no intention of doing so, since confirmation of my suspicion would raise delicate ethical questions I was not prepared to deal with.) two; the treasure of Princess Khnumit, which M. de Morgan had produced with such fanfare at the end of the season, might have been his reward for promising to yield the site to us. I had not questioned Ramses about the matter and I had no intention of doing so, since confirmation of my suspicion would raise delicate ethical questions I was not prepared to deal with.) Nor had I any intention of going, hat in hand, to my own son and asking him to help me find antiquities. I had even rejected the idea of interrogating the boy about the subsidiary pyramid. I meant to carry out my excavation according to the strictest scientific principles- but what I really wanted to find was the entrance. I yearned to squirm into that entrance and search for the burial chamber, and it would not have surprised me in the slightest to learn that Ramses knew precisely where it was located. He had a diabolical instinct for such things. However, great as would be the pleasure of entering the pyramid, the pleasure of finding it without Ramses' a.s.sistance would be even greater, and as the morning pa.s.sed, with no sign of an opening, I began to think I had overestimated the boy. The men were still digging out sand, and not even Ramses-surely, not even Ramses?-could have located a hidden entrance buried under tons of debris.

The thought of pyramids had distracted me. I turned my thoughts back to the other problem. In lieu of a treasure, what would attract the Master Criminal? An answer soon came to me; but although I had every confidence in Ramses' ability to get himself out of ordinary sc.r.a.pes, it did not seem quite right to use him as a lure to capture a murderer. There was another way, just as effective and less open to criticism on the grounds of maternal affection.

The sun climbed higher and the temperature climbed with it. Occupied with my work and my schemes, I did not notice the pa.s.sage of time or feel the heat until, glancing at Enid, I saw she was flushed and aglow with perspiration. with it. Occupied with my work and my schemes, I did not notice the pa.s.sage of time or feel the heat until, glancing at Enid, I saw she was flushed and aglow with perspiration.

"You had better join Bastet in the tent," I said, taking the notebook and pencil from her. "I forgot you are not accustomed to the sun."

Courageously she a.s.serted her willingness to remain on duty, but I overcame her scruples. She went off, and I was about to resume my labors when I saw a cloud of sand on the northern horizon. Another group of cursed tourists! Coming from the direction of Sakkara this time, and on horseback. The younger and more adventurous visitors preferred this approach.

When I saw that the riders did not halt at the North Pyramid but were coming straight toward us, I left Selim in charge of the diggers and hastened to Emerson. He had once bodily removed from a tomb a little old lady who turned out to be the former Empress of the French. The ensuing international furor had taken quite a while to die down.

He was rolling up his sleeves. I took firm hold of him and awaited the event. Before long I recognized, in the party of mounted men, the same young Englishmen I had seen at Shepheard's the day before.

They were still wearing the fantastical and inappropriate bits of Arabic costume they had purchased in the bazaars. However, they were expert hors.e.m.e.n-not surprising in persons who have few occupations in life other than sport and idle amus.e.m.e.nt. The guns slung from the saddles or carried over their arms were of the latest and most expensive design.

Whooping and laughing, they drew up beside the tent, and the young man in the lead prepared to dismount. Seeing me, he stopped midway, one foot still in the stirrup, the other lifted over the horse's back. The horse chose that moment to curl its lips back, and the resemblance to its rider, whose teeth were almost as prominent, was so absurd I had to stifle a laugh. stirrup, the other lifted over the horse's back. The horse chose that moment to curl its lips back, and the resemblance to its rider, whose teeth were almost as prominent, was so absurd I had to stifle a laugh.

" 'Pon my word, it's a lady," the young man exclaimed. "Look here, you chaps. What the devil d'you suppose she's doing out here in the middle of nowhere? How de do, ma'am."

He whipped off his turban. Emerson was not appeased by the gesture. He growled, "Watch your language, young man. Mrs. Emerson is not accustomed to vulgarity."

"Mrs. Emerson? Then you must be Mr. Emerson." The fellow grinned as if proud of this brilliant deduction.

"Professor Emerson," I corrected. "And you, sir?"

One of his companions hastened to his side. "Allow me to present his lordship Viscount Everly."

Emerson grunted. "Now that you have presented him, you may take him away. This is an archaeological expedition, not a club for wealthy idlers."

"Archaeology! Is that so? 'Pon my word! I say, Professor, you can just show us round a bit. Or better, let your better half do it, eh? Always take a pretty woman when you can get one, isn't that right, old chap?" He clapped Emerson on the shoulder and bared so many of his teeth, I was afraid they would fall out of his mouth.

I did not hear Emerson's reply, which is just as well. I had seen something that drew my attention and roused my most intense detectival instincts.

Another of the viscount's entourage had come forward. When he removed his headgear, a turban of astonishing height and breath, his head looked as if it had caught fire. The features below the coppery locks were hardly less astonishing. It took a second look to convince me that they were not those of Mr. Nemo. Further examination indicated the resemblance was not, in fact, as close as I had supposed; it was the unusual hair color shared by both that gave a misleading impression. This man-undoubtedly the same person I had seen at the Administration Building-was slighter and softer, from his delicately cut features to his plump, manicured hands.

Feeling my fixed stare, the young man shifted from one booted foot to the other and smiled uneasily. "Good morning, madam."

In my surprise I had forgotten my duty to my irate husband, but fortunately Ramses had intervened in time to save the viscount from bodily harm. Apparently he had admired the latter's horse, for when I returned my attention to the others, I was in time to hear Everly giggle foolishly and remark, "Yes, young feller, he's a dazzler, all right. Want to try him out?"

"Ramses," I cried. "I absolutely forbid-"

But Ramses was already in the saddle, and if he heard me, which I rather think he did, he pretended not to.

Ramses was not an unskilled equestrian, but he looked very small perched atop the great white stallion. Emerson stood watching with a foolish look, half smile of pride, half frown of exasperation, as the boy put the animal to a walk. I caught his arm. "Emerson, stop him. Order him to dismount."

"Don't fret yourself, ma'am," said his lordship, with another imbecile giggle. "Caesar is as gentle as a kitten."

Our men had gathered around to watch. They were grinning proudly, and Abdullah said in Arabic, "He will take no harm, sitt. He could ride a lion if he chose."

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when a gun went off, practically in my ear. The stallion reared and bolted. Ramses stuck to his back like a c.o.c.klebur, but I knew he must fall; his feet were a good eight inches above the swinging stirrups, and his arms had not the strength to hold the reins. and bolted. Ramses stuck to his back like a c.o.c.klebur, but I knew he must fall; his feet were a good eight inches above the swinging stirrups, and his arms had not the strength to hold the reins.

Deafened by the sound of the shot and dazed by horror, we stood frozen for several seconds. Emerson was the first to move. I have never seen a man run so fast. It was a splendid effort, but of course quite senseless, since a man on foot could never hope to catch up with a galloping horse.

His lordship reacted more quickly than I would have expected. "Don't worry, ma'am, I'll save the lad," he cried, and ran toward the other horses, which were standing some distance away with a pair of grooms in attendance. Before he reached them, however, a flying form cannoned into him and sent him sprawling. The newcomer vaulted into the nearest saddle. With a shout, and an answering neigh, they were off, man and equine moving as one. The flying robes of the rider blew out behind him like great wings.

Our men started running after Emerson, shouting and waving their arms. After some confusion, the viscount and his followers mounted and galloped off in pursuit. The two grooms looked at one another, shrugged, and sat down on the ground to watch.

Whether by accident or because Ramses had managed to regain some control over the horse, it had swung in a wide circle. If this was indeed designed by Ramses, it was a serious error on his part; for the steed was rapidly approaching one of the wadis, or canyons, that cut through the western desert. I could not see how deep it was, but it appeared to be a good ten feet across. The horse might be able to jump it. However, I felt reasonably certain Ramses would not be able to stay on it if it did.

As the Reader may suppose, my state of mind was not so calm and collected as the above description implies; in fact, "frozen with horror" would be a trite but relatively accurate description of my condition at that time. However, I could do absolutely nothing except watch. There were already enough people running and riding wildly across the countryside.

His lordship had outstripped his men. Whatever his other failings-and I felt sure they were extensive-he rode like a centaur. Even so, he was far behind the first pursuer, who was rapidly closing in on the large horse and its small rider. As one might have expected, Emerson was a considerable distance behind, with the rest of our men strung out behind him like runners in a race.

The unknown rider-of whose ident.i.ty, however, I had no doubt; it could only be Nemo-in a sudden burst of speed cut in front of the runaway horse and turned him, on the very edge of the wadi. For a few heart-stopping moments the two steeds thundered on side by side; Nemo's appeared to be galloping on thin air, so close were its hooves to the crumbling rim of the ravine. Then the courageous effort of the rescuer bore fruit. Ramses' mount turned and slowed and finally came to a stop. Ramses fell off the horse, or was plucked off, I could not tell which; for he was immediately enveloped in the billowing folds of Nemo's robe. From that distance it was hard to see whether Nemo was embracing the boy in a frenzy of relief or shaking him violently in another kind of frenzy.

By this time the other pursuers were spread out all over the terrain, in their efforts to follow the changing course of the runaway. It must have been Emerson's strong paternal instincts that led him to be first upon the scene, for no one could possibly have predicted where the animal would eventually halt. The others all converged on the spot, and before long the protagonists in the drama were swallowed up by a crowd of screaming supernumeraries and hidden by agitated blue and white draperies.

Not until that moment did I feel the hand that had gripped my shoulder, though its pressure was hard enough to leave (as I later discovered) visible bruises. The grip relaxed and I turned in time to catch Enid as, with a tremulous moan, she sank fainting to the ground.

I dragged the girl into the tent and left her there. The intensity of the drama was sufficient excuse for her reaction, but I knew Emerson would be annoyed if he discovered she had succ.u.mbed. He had a poor opinion of swooning females.

The viscount and his entourage were the first to return. Most of them kept their distance, but his lordship summoned courage enough to face me. However, he was prudent enough to remain on horseback as he made his stammering apologies.

I cut them short. "I don't hold you wholly accountable, since Ramses has a habit of getting into sc.r.a.pes; however, I think you had better take yourself off before Professor Emerson gets here. I refuse to be responsible for his actions when he is under extreme emotional stress, as I suppose him to be at this time."

The gentlemen took my advice. They were in full retreat when Emerson staggered up, with Ramses clasped to his bosom. After Ramses had finally convinced his father he was capable of standing, Emerson ran after the riders, cursing and demanding that they come back and fight like men. Having expected a demonstration of that sort, I was able to trip him up, and by the time he had resumed an upright position and brushed the sand from his perspiring countenance, he was relatively calm. brushed the sand from his perspiring countenance, he was relatively calm.

"No harm done," he said grittily. "But if that idiot ever shows his face here again-"

I handed him my water flask, for it was evident that his speech was enc.u.mbered by sand. "Perhaps we had better stop for the day," I suggested. "It is after noon, and everyone is tired from all that running around."

"Stop work?" Emerson stared at me in amazement. "What are you thinking of, Peabody?"

So we returned to our labors. The diggers went at it with renewed vigor; I heard one of them remark to another that he always enjoyed working for the Father of Curses, since there was sure to be something amusing going on.

Naturally we looked for Nemo in order to express our appreciation and admiration, but he was nowhere to be found. Since he was still wearing his Egyptian robes and turban, it was not difficult for him to hide among the fifty-odd diggers; and even after we had finished work and returned to the house, I was unable to locate him. I need not tell the Reader that my reasons for wishing to speak to him were not solely those of parental grat.i.tude. I had a number of questions to ask that young man, and this time I was determined to get answers.

I had, of course, explained to Ramses that his behavior was wholly inexcusable. Not all the blame for the incident could be attributed to him, since the accidental discharge of the firearm had startled the horse into bolting. However, if Ramses had not been on the horse, the danger would not have occurred.

Remarkably, Ramses made no attempt to defend himself, but listened in silence, his narrow countenance even more inscrutable than usual. Upon the conclusion of the lecture I ordered him to his room-not much of a punishment, since he usually spent the hottest part of the day there working on his grammar. even more inscrutable than usual. Upon the conclusion of the lecture I ordered him to his room-not much of a punishment, since he usually spent the hottest part of the day there working on his grammar.

Emerson and I had never succ.u.mbed to the lazy habit of afternoon rest which is common in the East. There is always a great deal to do on an archaeological expedition, aside from the digging itself. I knew Emerson would be busy that afternoon, for as he admitted, the stratification of the ruined buildings at the base of the pyramid was complex in the extreme. His copious notes and sketches would have to be sorted and copied in more permanent form.

He was frowning and muttering over this task when I began to set in motion the scheme I had contrived that morning.

I found Enid lying on her cot. She was not asleep; her wide eyes stared unseeingly at the ceiling and she did not turn her head when I entered, after giving the emphatic cough that was the only possible subst.i.tute for a knock-there being, as the Reader may recall, no door on which to knock.

I understood the cause of her lethargy, and the despair of which it was the outward sign, and I was tempted to mitigate it by a.s.suring her that I was about to take action. I decided I could not risk it; she might have tried to dissuade me from the course I contemplated. Subterfuge was necessary, and although I deplore in the strongest possible terms the slightest deviation from straightforward behavior, there are occasions upon which moral good must yield to expediency.

"I have brought you something to read," I said cheerfully. "It will, I hope, beguile the hours more effectively than Meyer's Geschichte des Altertums." Geschichte des Altertums." For such was the volume she had tossed aside. For such was the volume she had tossed aside.

A slight show of animation warmed her pale cheeks, though I fancied it was politeness rather than genuine interest. She took the books and examined the t.i.tles curiously. "Why, Amelia," she said, with a little laugh. "I would not have suspected you of such deplorable taste in literature."

"Only the book by Mr. Haggard is mine," I explained, taking a seat on the packing case. "The other belongs to Ramses-a collection of what are called, I believe, detective stories."

"They are very popular stories. You don't care for them?"

"No; for in my opinion they strain the credulity of the reader to an unreasonable degree."

I was pleased to see that our little literary discussion had cheered the girl: her eyes twinkled as she said, "To a more unreasonable degree than the romances of Mr. Haggard? I believe his plots include such devices as the lost diamond mines of King Solomon, beautiful women thousands of years old-"

"You give yourself away, Enid. You would not be so familiar with the plots if you had not read the books!"

Her smile faded. "I know-I knew-someone who enjoyed them."

Her cousin Ronald? He had not struck me, from what I had heard of him, as a reading man. I was tempted to inquire why the memory brought such a look of sorrow to her face, but decided I must postpone further questions, since I had only a limited time in which to put my scheme into effect.

"Mr. Haggard's stories," I explained, "are pure fantasy and do not pretend to be anything else. However rational the mind-and mine is extremely rational-it requires periods of rest, when the aery winds of fancy may ruffle the still waters of thought and encourage those softer and more spiritual musings without which no individual can be at his or her best. These so-called detective stories, on the other hand, pretend to exhibit the strictly intellectual qualities of the protagonist. In fact, they do nothing of the sort; for in the few I have read, the detective arrived at his solutions, not by means of the inexorable progress of true reasoning, but by wild guesses which turned out to be correct only because of the author's construction of his plot." may ruffle the still waters of thought and encourage those softer and more spiritual musings without which no individual can be at his or her best. These so-called detective stories, on the other hand, pretend to exhibit the strictly intellectual qualities of the protagonist. In fact, they do nothing of the sort; for in the few I have read, the detective arrived at his solutions, not by means of the inexorable progress of true reasoning, but by wild guesses which turned out to be correct only because of the author's construction of his plot."

Enid's abstracted murmur proved that I had lost her attention; and since the books had been only the pretext for my visit, I was quite content to change the subject to one which might appear-as I trusted it would-even more frivolous than that of literature, but which was, in fact, at the root of my scheme.

I began by telling her how much I had admired her gray-green afternoon frock, and asking where she had obtained it. Emerson has been heard to a.s.sert that the discussion of fashion will distract any woman from any other subject whatsoever, including her own imminent demise. Without subscribing to this exaggerated a.s.sessment, I am bound to admit that there is some truth in it, and this was proved by Enid's response. We discussed fashion houses and fabrics and the frightful expense of dressmaking; and then I subtly closed in upon my purpose.

"The costume you were wearing the day you arrived quite intrigued me," I said.

"Oh, but it is the latest mode," Enid explained. "It is called a bicycling dress. Have you not heard of them? I was sure you had, since your own costume is similar in design-if not in color."

"Oh yes, quite; I try to keep au courant with the latest styles, although practicality is a greater consideration than beauty here. That was what surprised me-that a young lady of fashion would include such a garment in her travel wardrobe." than beauty here. That was what surprised me-that a young lady of fashion would include such a garment in her travel wardrobe."