Lion In The Valley Part 25

This was a piece of news, and no mistake! I should have expected it, but it cast a decided shadow over my hope of escape. I knew Emerson would find me sooner or later if I remained in Cairo; but even Emerson would find it difficult to search every inch of Egypt. Nor had Sethos said we were to remain in Egypt. His villa might be anywhere in the Near East-or the world!

The longer I could delay our departure, the better for me, but I could not think of any way of doing that. To pretend illness would not deceive Sethos; to pretend a sudden, overwhelming affection would be even less convincing, supposing I could bring myself to simulate that emotion. However, it would do no harm to simulate tolerance at least, and encourage him to talk in the hope that he might inadvertently betray some information I could use.

"Who are you really?" I asked. "Is this your true appearance?"

Sethos smiled. "That is another of the qualities I love in you, Amelia-I beg your pardon, Mrs. Emerson. You are not subtle. Much as I yearn to confide in you, greatly as I burn to come to you as myself, caution compels me to preserve my incognito until we are truly united. This face you see is only one of a thousand I can a.s.sume if I wish. I am, if I may say so, a master in the art of disguise. Permit me the indulgence of boasting a little- of making myself appear admirable in the opinion of one I adore-" disguise. Permit me the indulgence of boasting a little- of making myself appear admirable in the opinion of one I adore-"

"Pray continue," I said, helping myself to a salad. "The subject interests me a great deal."

"But it is not a subject in which you could excel. You are my ant.i.thesis, direct where I am subtle, forthright where I am cunning and indirect. You go straight to your goal, banging people over the head with your parasol, and I glide as slyly and sinuously as a serpent. The art of disguise is essential in my business, not only for practical reasons but because it casts an aura of the supernatural over my actions. Many of my ignorant a.s.sistants believe I change my appearance by magical means. Whereas in reality it is only a matter of grease paint and hair dye, wigs and beards and costumes, and a more subtle yet equally important alteration of demeanor. Gestures, carriage, the tone of the voice-these change a man's appearance more effectively than any physical trick. I can make myself an inch or two taller by means of special shoes and boots; but I make myself appear shorter by holding myself in a certain way. If you had examined the viscount with a critical measuring eye, you would have seen that he was taller than his stooping posture suggested; that his bowed shoulders were not so narrow as they seemed; that his hesitant speech and foolish mannerisms suggested a physical weakness his actual proportions did not support."

"But his eyes," I exclaimed-for I was genuinely fascinated. "Surely the priest of Dronkeh had black eyes; and Ramses a.s.sured me-"

"Ramses has a great deal to learn," Sethos said. "There are ways of changing the color of the eyes. Certain drugs enlarge the pupils. Paint applied to the eyelids and lashes make the iris appear darker or lighter, especially if one is fortunate enough to have eyes of an ambiguous shade between brown and gray. Someday I will show you my bag of tricks, Amelia; in each of my hideaways I have a laboratory fitted out with my equipment, including a few items I developed myself. It may amuse you to experiment with them; though in your case it would be difficult to conceal those sparkling, steely orbs or dim their brilliance...."

He gazed into them as he spoke, his voice dropping to a soft murmur.

"I would rather hear rational discourse than empty compliments," I said-though I was conscious of a perceptible quickening of my pulse.

He drew back. "Forgive me. I will keep my word, though you make it very difficult.... I will answer any questions you may have-except one."

"Your real ident.i.ty, I suppose. Well, Mr. Sethos, I have a dozen others. Why do you lead such a life? With your abilities you could succeed in any one of a number of lawful professions."

Thoughtfully he replied, "Someday I will tell you my history, and then you will understand the motives that impelled me into this admittedly curious way of life. But one I may confess now. It is not for monetary gain alone that I rob the dead and the living. The finest objects I acquire never reach the sordid stalls of the marketplace. I am a lover of beauty; and the most beautiful objects I take, I keep for myself."

His meaning was unmistakable, for he gazed again into my eyes with an expression of intense interest. I burst out laughing. "That is a very pretty speech, Mr. Sethos, but I am afraid you have undermined your claim to be a connoisseur by abducting me. Emerson is the only man-"

"Please do me the favor of refraining from mentioning that person every few sentences," he interrupted fiercely. "You are right, though; the professor and I are more alike than he would care to admit, and his appreciation of your charms is only one of the things we share."

"I can't stop mentioning him, because he is constantly in my thoughts."

His eyes fell. "You have the power to hurt me," he muttered. "Your laughter wounded me deeply."

"I really don't think I owe you an apology, Mr. Sethos. If I have wounded your amour-propre, amour-propre, you have done me a more serious injury. This is the first time I have been abducted by a man who claimed to have been moved to madness by my beauty, so I don't know the correct way to behave." you have done me a more serious injury. This is the first time I have been abducted by a man who claimed to have been moved to madness by my beauty, so I don't know the correct way to behave."

My little attempt at humor was not well received. Sethos looked down at me. "How could you have missed the attentions I paid you?" he demanded tragically. "How could you have supposed, as you apparently did, that I intended to harm you? Why, scarcely a day has pa.s.sed since your return to Egypt that I have not managed to speak to you or at least admire you from afar. Not only was I the three individuals you mentioned-I was a tourist, a snake-charmer in the Muski, even a digger in your own excavations. Everything I have done was designed to demonstrate my deep pa.s.sion-"

"Such as whisking Ramses off the top of the Great Pyramid?"

"That was a scheme that went awry," Sethos admitted. "I was-as you have probably guessed-the American gentleman who spoke to you atop the pyramid. My intention was to stage a daring rescue of that appalling child and restore him to your arms. However, I was foiled by Donald Fraser, curse him."

"I see. And on another occasion, when your horse ran away with Ramses-"

"The same rascal interfered to spoil my plans." Sethos' lips curled back in a wolfish snarl. "He at least will have occasion to regret his interference. I had determined to slaughter his even more rascally brother the moment I learned he had fired a shot that might have struck you. Ronald was a tiresome fellow anyway, and so stupidly single-minded, I was afraid he would continue to endanger you by making further attempts on Donald. So I did away with him, and it gave me a particular satisfaction to incriminate Donald when I did so. Surely you must have understood why I went to the trouble of carrying his body all that distance and laying it at your feet? I returned the communion vessels because, in a newspaper interview I read, you expressed your disapprobation of that particular theft. I sent you flowers-you know the meaning of red roses in the language of love-and a golden ring bearing my name! How could you have overlooked their significance?"

"Good Gad," I exclaimed. "So that is what was troubling Emerson! Poor dear man, he must have thought-"

"Emerson again!" Sethos flung up his hands.

My poor dear Emerson! (I continued my soliloquy in my thoughts, since it did not seem sensible to irritate my companion further.) Emerson had correctly interpreted the signs I had missed. It was not surprising that I should have done so, for my inherent modesty had clouded my normally clear intelligence. My thoughts were in a whirl, for a new and terrible thought had invaded my calm. Was it possible that Emerson believed-that he suspected-that he entertained for a single instant the slightest doubt of the wholehearted sincerity of my devotion? Was he-in short-jealous?

Impossible, my heart cried out. Surely Emerson could no more question my affection than I could doubt his. But if he did-if he could-then my disappearance must raise doubts.... It was a thought more terrible than any fear of imminent annihilation. I believe my lips actually quivered for a moment. But only for a moment; the necessity of escape became more pressing than ever.

Incredibly, I had almost forgotten my position in the interest of the conversation, and another fear wormed its way into my mind. The man had a superhuman power of fascination. I had been chatting with him easily, fearlessly. Could time bring about the result he confidently expected?

Again my heart responded with a fervent "Impossible!" But a doubt lingered___ "Tell me," I said resolutely, "about the Fraser brothers. How did you become involved with Ronald?"

"Through normal business channels," Sethos said readily. "I have in my employ several of the most reliable a.s.sa.s.sins in Cairo. He approached one of them and his request was, in due course, pa.s.sed on to me. He had hired Kalenischeff (whose reputation was known to everyone except the naive officials of the police department) to distract Miss Debenham when she came to Cairo bent on tracking down Donald Fraser and convincing him to tell the truth about Ronald. Ronald could not permit that; only his brother's woolly-witted loyalty stood between him and prison, disgrace and dest.i.tution. And he had good reason to fear that Donald might yield to the persuasion of the young and wealthy woman he secretly adored. Hence Kalenischeff, who led the girl astray instead of helping her.

"Kalenischeff, however, was not trustworthy. I had dismissed him from my employ some months earlier for that very reason. It would have been more discreet of me to have had him killed, but I am not so p.r.o.ne to needless slaughter as you suppose. He was in no position to betray my ident.i.ty-I take care that no one shall be in that position-but if he had told all he knew, he could have crippled some of my operations. me to have had him killed, but I am not so p.r.o.ne to needless slaughter as you suppose. He was in no position to betray my ident.i.ty-I take care that no one shall be in that position-but if he had told all he knew, he could have crippled some of my operations.

"I kept an eye on him, therefore; and when I learned from Ronald Fraser that Kalenischeff was about to betray both of us, I was happy to accede to his request that Kalenischeff be disposed of. The wretch had decided to make a clean sweep, collect as much money as possible, and leave Egypt for good. He knew the Department of Antiquities would pay a tidy sum for information about me."

"And Miss Debenham offered an even larger sum if he would help her find Donald and tell Donald of his brother's treachery."

"Precisely. The girl proved resistant to the drug we used and made the mistake of running away. As I told you, she was never in real danger; the weak muscles of a woman-even yours, my dear-could not have struck a blow like the one that destroyed Kalenischeff."

"But Donald-poor Donald! You must clear him. That was an unworthy act, Mr. Sethos."

"If it will please you," Sethos said softly, "I will see to it that Fraser goes free." He reached for my hand. I pulled it away. He shrugged and sighed and smiled, and leaned back.

"Not even a touch of the hand in return for my confessing to murder? So be it. I told you I was a patient man.

"The rest of the business should be clear to you now. Ronald never knew my real ident.i.ty. As Viscount Everly I encouraged him to join my little group because I wanted to watch the fellow. I knew, of course, that Miss Debenham had fled to you, just as I knew you had taken Donald Fraser under your wing. I was not surprised, since it is your habit to adopt every unfortunate innocent you come across-by force, if necessary." Donald Fraser under your wing. I was not surprised, since it is your habit to adopt every unfortunate innocent you come across-by force, if necessary."

"It is the duty of a Christian to help the unfortunate."

"It is a Moslem's duty too. Strange, how the so-called great religions all insist on the same weak virtues. Even the ancient Egyptians boasted of having given food to the hungry and clothing to the naked."

"It is a sublime and universal truth," I replied. "What you view as weakness is the quality that makes us one with the Divine. 'And the greatest greatest of these is love.' Or," I hastily amended, "as the word is sometimes translated, charity." of these is love.' Or," I hastily amended, "as the word is sometimes translated, charity."

"A poor, feeble translation," said Sethos softly. His eyes held mine with hypnotic power, I felt myself sinking deep into their velvety depths. Then he lowered his gaze, and I let out a quick, involuntary sigh. His lashes were as long and thick and curling as those of a pretty girl. I wondered if they were his own.

"I have always avoided the softer sentiments," Sethos went on reflectively. "My feelings for you came on me like a hurricane, a great natural force I was powerless to resist. I would have resisted them if I could. Even now I have a strange foreboding-"

"You have them too!" I exclaimed.

His lashes lifted; laughter warmed his brown-his gray-his chameleon eyes, before they darkened into somber pensiveness. "I used to view such premonitions as the expression of an instinct developed by those who have reason to fear danger. But now I wonder if there is not some higher fate that guides our destinies. Not a benevolent deity; no one who studies the cruelty of man can believe in a G.o.d who permits such atrocities. Only a vast, impersonal something, with a perverted sense of humor! It would be strange, would it not, if the solitary weakness of a lifetime should be my downfall? I sense that this may be so. You could redeem me, Amelia- you and you alone. Only imagine what I might do for the world if my powers were turned to good instead of evil. Help me, Amelia. Give me your hand-lead me out of darkness into light...." weakness of a lifetime should be my downfall? I sense that this may be so. You could redeem me, Amelia- you and you alone. Only imagine what I might do for the world if my powers were turned to good instead of evil. Help me, Amelia. Give me your hand-lead me out of darkness into light...."

It was a thrilling moment. I felt that at long last I understood this strange, brilliant, and tormented man. I was moved-nay, I was inspired. My lips parted. My breast heaved. My hand reached out. . .

Our fingertips had not quite touched when the sounds of violence made both of us start from our seats. The curtains swayed wildly as the door opened and slammed back against the wall. There was only one person of my acquaintance who opened a door in that manner! I pressed my hand to my palpitating bosom.

It was Emerson! It was he! But what a sight he was! His hair stood on end, his best dress shirt was in shreds; one sleeve had been ripped away from the seam and huddled on his forearm like a ragged gauntlet. His face was disfigured by reddening patches, and one eye was half-closed. Blood dripped from his sc.r.a.ped knuckles, and in either hand he held a naked sword. Never in my life had I beheld a spectacle that moved me more! I felt that my pounding heart must burst the confines of my breast.

Before the curtain had fallen back into place, Emerson whirled round. He let out a startled remark, dropped one of the swords, and slammed the door shut but not before a sinuous and tawny form had streaked through the opening. Emerson dropped the bar into place just as the panels began to reverberate under a fierce a.s.sault. Then he turned again. His gaze went straight to me.

"Amelia," he exclaimed. "For G.o.d's sake, put on some clothes!"

"Emerson," I replied, with equal pa.s.sion. "Watch out!"

Emerson ducked and a heavy silver bowl crashed into the door, skimming his disheveled head. The cat Bastet sauntered toward Sethos. Her loud rasping purr blended with the dying echoes of the sound of the bowl striking the door. Sethos staggered as the cat twined affectionately around his ankles-she was, as I believe I have mentioned, a large and muscular animal. Agilely he leaped away, and the cat Bastet, deeply affronted, headed for the table and the stuffed chicken.

After a casual glance around to a.s.sure himself that Sethos had no other missiles convenient to hand, Emerson looked again at me. "Has he harmed you, Peabody? Has he dared ... Has he ... Good Gad, Peabody, seeing you in that outrageous costume has filled me with apprehensions I scarcely-"

"Have no fear, Emerson! He has not... He did not..."

"Ah!" Emerson's chest swelled, completing the ruin of his best shirt. He shook the tatters of his sleeve from his arm and flexed his muscles. "In that case," he said, "I will only tear one one of his legs off." of his legs off."

He started toward Sethos, who retreated as delicately as Bastet might have done, his hands hanging limp and loosely flexed.

"Emerson," I said.

"Please don't distract me, Peabody."

"He is unarmed, Emerson. Your scimitar-"

"Scimitar? Oh." Emerson stared curiously at the weapon. "I took it from that fellow out there," he explained. "Never saw such a hard head on a human being. He was up and at me again almost at once. I expect, though, that they have overpowered him by this time." though, that they have overpowered him by this time."

Indeed, the pounding on the door had ceased. "You did not come alone then?" I asked.

"Certainly not. Ramses-"

"Emerson!"

"And a regiment of police officers." He transferred his gaze to Sethos. "Your evil career is ended, you swine. But I shan't admit the police until I have dealt with you. I promised myself that satisfaction, and I think I deserve it."

Sethos straightened to his full height. He was not as tall as Emerson, or as brawny, but they made a magnificent pair as they faced one another in mutual animosity.

"Good, Professor," he said in a low, drawling voice. "I promise myself some satisfaction too, for I have yearned to come to grips with you. Give me the other sword, and we'll fight for her like men."

"Emerson," I cried in some anxiety, for I knew my husband's temperament only too well. "Emerson, you don't know how to fence!"

"No, I don't," Emerson admitted. "But you know, Peabody, there can't be much to it-whacking at one another in turn, and-"

"Emerson, I insist... No. No, my dearest Emerson- I beg you, I implore you...."

A pleased smile spread over Emerson's face. "Well, Peabody, since you put it that way...." And to my horror he flung the sword away. It skipped across the smooth marble floor in a series of musical ringing sounds. Even before it struck the floor, Sethos moved- not toward that sword, but toward the first, which Emerson had dropped at the door. s.n.a.t.c.hing it up, he swung on Emerson.

"Now, Professor, we are more evenly matched," he snarled. "I know something of boxing, but I prefer not to meet snarled. "I know something of boxing, but I prefer not to meet you you in that arena. Pick up the sword-I give you that much." in that arena. Pick up the sword-I give you that much."

Emerson shrugged. "It wouldn't be much use to me," he remarked. "However..." And with the catlike quickness he could sometimes summon, he s.n.a.t.c.hed the wine decanter and brought it crashing down on the edge of the table. Bastet, who had been eating the chicken, soared up with a yowl of protest; the decanter shattered; and the table collapsed, spilling food and broken gla.s.s. The air glittered with crystal shards, like drops of clear hail.

Emerson ripped the silken covering from the couch and wrapped it round his left arm. "Now then," he said. "Come on, you bas-excuse me, Peabody-you villain."

They circled one another in taut silence. Sethos lunged. With a quick twist of his body, Emerson stepped inside the other man's guard and jabbed at his face with the broken bottle. Sethos jumped back. His next move was a slash, from left to right; Emerson beat it back with a blow across Sethos' forearm. The blade whistled past his side. Sethos retreated again, giving Emerson a chance to s.n.a.t.c.h up the silver tray. It served as a makeshift shield; with its aid he took the offensive, striking the sword back each time it approached, and jabbing with the decanter.

In my opinion there is never any excuse for violence. It is the last resort of people and nations who are too stupid to think of a sensible way of settling their differences. The sight of two pugilists beating one another to a pulp sickens me; the idea of little boys being taught to "fight like men" revolts and repels me. Was I therefore filled with disgust at the b.l.o.o.d.y battle that raged between these two men of intellect and ability?

No.

The sight of Emerson's muscles rippling under his bronzed skin-of the ferocious smile that bared his strong white teeth-of the grace and vigor of his movements-roused an answering joyful ferocity in my bosom. My breath came in gasps, my cheeks burned. For a few moments I was not a civilized, sensible woman; I was a primitive female crouched in her cave as two savage male beasts fought to possess her.

It was a most curious and interesting sensation.

A wicked feint and even quicker riposte struck the make-shift shield aside. Sethos' blade bit deep into Emerson's arm. He gave a grunt of annoyance rather than pain and lunged forward. Only Sethos' sideways turn of the head saved his eyes; the gla.s.s scored a row of ragged cuts down his cheek. Wounded and in need of a respite, the combatants broke apart, both dripping blood, both panting, both glaring.

"This is ridiculous!" I cried.

Neither man paid the least attention, but my fit of temporary insanity had ended abruptly at the sight of the blood spurting from Emerson's wound. Masculine pride is all very well, and I hoped Emerson was enjoying himself, but I was cursed if I was going to stand by and see him cut to ribbons just so he could have the satisfaction of dying to defend my honor.

I ran toward the door. Emerson did not take his eyes off Sethos, but he saw me. "Peabody," he gasped. "If you open-that door-I will-I will-oof!" I heard Sethos' blade ring on the silver platter. I s.n.a.t.c.hed up the scimitar Emerson had flung away and turned for an appraisal of the situation.

It was far from rea.s.suring. Even as I turned, the final blow was struck. Too late, I thought wildly-too late to admit the helpers waiting outside, too late even to reach my stricken spouse and stand side by side with him, sword in hand! Sethos' blade came down on the platter again and knocked it out of Emerson's grasp. As the sword hung motionless from the impact for a split second, Emerson dropped the decanter and caught his opponent's arm in both hands. reach my stricken spouse and stand side by side with him, sword in hand! Sethos' blade came down on the platter again and knocked it out of Emerson's grasp. As the sword hung motionless from the impact for a split second, Emerson dropped the decanter and caught his opponent's arm in both hands.

They stood frozen in matching strength, Sethos' efforts to free his arm and Emerson's efforts to hold it producing a temporary equilibrium. Slowly Sethos' arm bent. The sword quivered in his straining hand. Beads of sweat broke out on Emerson's brow. The rose-pink wrappings on his arm were crimson now, but his grip never weakened.

Then the end came. The sword fell from Sethos' fingers, and Emerson's hand, slippery with blood, lost its hold. Quick as ever, Emerson reached for the fallen sword. Sethos, just as quick, leaped back against the wall. He looked at me. "Amelia-farewell!" he cried- and vanished.

Emerson bounded forward with a series of oaths that exceeded anything I had ever heard him utter. The slab of marble through which Sethos had vanished closed again, in Emerson's face. "d.a.m.n!" said Emerson, beating on the slab with the scimitar and then with his fist. "d.a.m.n, d.a.m.n, d.a.m.n, d.a.m.n!"

After a while I said, "Emerson."

"d.a.m.n, d.a.m.n ... Yes, Peabody? d.a.m.n!" said Emerson.

"Shall I open the door now, Emerson?"

"Curse the cursed fellow," Emerson bellowed, varying the tone of his remarks. "One day-one day, I swear ..." He stopped kicking the marble and stared at me. "What did you say, Peabody? Did I hear you correctly? Did you ask my permission to open the door?"

"Yes, you heard me, Emerson. But oh, my dear Emerson, I think we should let them in; you are wounded, my dear, and-" my dear, and-"

"Do you really want to let them in, Peabody?" "No, Emerson. At least-not just yet."

"How could you possibly suppose, even for a second, that I cared for anyone but you?"

"Well, Peabody, if you hadn't kept referring to that man in such admiring terms-"

"I never stopped thinking of you for a moment, Emerson. I never lost hope that you would find me."

"Had it not been for your quick wit in stringing your bits of flannel out the window, we would not have succeeded, Peabody. We began searching in the area Ramses' research had indicated, but it was somewhat extensive."

"Where did you learn to do that, Emerson?"

"This, Peabody?"

"No-no, not... Oh, Emerson. Oh, my dear Emerson!"

"I was referring, some minutes ago, to your skill in fighting with broken bottles, Emerson. I had no idea you could do that."