Lion In The Valley Part 6

"Hush, Emerson," I implored. "You will waken the entire village-not to mention Ramses. What the devil is the matter with you? I was speaking of the Master Criminal-"

"I heard you." Emerson lowered his voice. The blanket had fallen away, baring his body to the waist and exposing more of my own than was strictly proper. Mesmerized by the ripple of muscle on Emerson's broad chest as he struggled for breath, I did not replace it. Emerson went on in a hissing whisper, "Great mind, did you say? How can you ramble on about that-that- that creature at a time like this? And in such terms- terms almost of respect! Devil take it, Amelia, one might suppose you think I am incapable of dealing with that scoundrel! Curse it! If you believe I am not man enough-" exposing more of my own than was strictly proper. Mesmerized by the ripple of muscle on Emerson's broad chest as he struggled for breath, I did not replace it. Emerson went on in a hissing whisper, "Great mind, did you say? How can you ramble on about that-that- that creature at a time like this? And in such terms- terms almost of respect! Devil take it, Amelia, one might suppose you think I am incapable of dealing with that scoundrel! Curse it! If you believe I am not man enough-"

"My dear Emerson-"

"Be quiet, Peabody. If you have any doubts as to my fort.i.tude, I will prove you wrong."

And he did so, with such determination and zeal that when, at a later time, he requested my a.s.sessment of the situation, I was able to reply with utter sincerity that his arguments had been entirely convincing.

I woke at dawn, as is my habit in Egypt, whatever distractions the night may bring. Our lofty perch presented me with an unexampled view of the glorious sunrise and I lay in sleepy content for a time, watching the soft shades of gold and rose strengthen in the eastern sky. Emerson's regular expiration ruffled the hair on my brow. After a time a sense of vague uneasiness penetrated the pleasant laziness of my mind, and I raised my head. Fortunately I raised no other part of my body, for the first thing I saw was the face of Ramses, apparently detached from the rest of him, solemnly regarding me. It was an uncanny apparition and I was somewhat startled until it occurred to me that everything except his head was out of sight on the stairs leading to the roof.

"What are you doing there?" I whispered.

"I came to see if you and Papa were awake. Since I see that you are, I have brought you a cup of tea. I tried to bring two cups, but unfortunately dropped one, the stairs being extremely steep and my-" see that you are, I have brought you a cup of tea. I tried to bring two cups, but unfortunately dropped one, the stairs being extremely steep and my-"

I put my finger to my lips and pointed at Emerson, who was twitching restlessly.

Ramses' neck and narrow shoulders rose up out of the stairwell, and I saw that he was indeed holding a cup. Whether or not it contained tea was yet to be seen. I rather doubted that it did. I started to sit up and then remembered that in the extreme fatigue following the ultimate conclusion of my discussion with Emerson, I had neglected something.

I dismissed Ramses and groped for my clothes. a.s.suming those garments under cover of the blanket without rousing Emerson was no easy task. By the time I was finished I quite agreed with my husband that we might do well to transfer our sleeping quarters to the place he had suggested. Ramses was even more unnerving when he was not present than when he was, because one never knew when he would turn up.

There was approximately an eighth of a cup of tea in the bottom of the cup. The rest had been spilled on the steps, as I discovered when I started to descend them.

However, it had been a kindly thought, and I thanked Ramses when I found him busily burning toast over the camp stove. "Where is Mr. Nemo?" I asked.

"Outside. I offered to prepare a light repast for him, but he said he didn't want any cursed tea and toast, and-"

I went out the door, leaving Ramses still talking. Nemo was squatting on the mastaba bench. He had resumed his filthy turban and once again resembled an Egyptian of the lowest type. I never could have mistaken him for one of our men, for they prided themselves on the elegance of their attire, and their habits were as fastidious as circ.u.mstances allowed. They had finished their morning repast and there was a busy flutter of blue-and-white-striped cotton round the cookfire. Abdullah, looking like one of the n.o.bler Biblical patriarchs in the snowy white he preferred, called a greeting and I replied in kind, adding that Emerson would soon be ready to leave for the site. were as fastidious as circ.u.mstances allowed. They had finished their morning repast and there was a busy flutter of blue-and-white-striped cotton round the cookfire. Abdullah, looking like one of the n.o.bler Biblical patriarchs in the snowy white he preferred, called a greeting and I replied in kind, adding that Emerson would soon be ready to leave for the site.

Nemo had not moved or spoken. "You had better eat something," I said.

"I am well enough as I am."

I would have continued the discussion, but a hand gripped me and drew me back into the house. It was Emerson, fully dressed and alert; in his other hand he held a piece of scorched bread, which he was chewing.

"Leave him alone," he said, after swallowing the nasty morsel and making a face. "He is obviously regretting his bargain and struggling with the desire to succ.u.mb to the temptation of the drug. He must fight it out by himself."

"If that is the case, Emerson, his need for nourishment is all the greater. The use of opium and hashish when carried to excess-"

"He has not carried it to excess." Emerson handed me the toasting fork. I took the hint, and the fork; as I busied myself with the preparation of a fresh slice of bread, Emerson went on, "In fact, I am certain he is not physically addicted to either opium or hashish. He indulges as some men drink to excess, in order to forget his troubles, and because drugs seem to the young and foolish a romantic form of escape from reality. His physical condition makes it clear that he has not indulged long or often. Those who do so exhibit a characteristic leaden pallor and skeletal thinness, along with lethargy and disinclination towards exertion. All varieties of exertion," he added, with one of those masculine grins.

"Humph," I said. "Well, I wouldn't know about that, Emerson, but he certainly exerted himself on the night he rescued Ramses."

"He was probably under the influence of opium at that time," Emerson said coolly. "Used moderately, it acts as a stimulant."

"You seem to know a great deal about it." I glanced around the room and was relieved to see that Ramses had taken himself off. "Emerson-have you ever..."

"Oh yes. Only as an experiment," Emerson added. "I don't enjoy the sensation or the side effects. When used in moderation, however, opium appears to be no more harmful than tobacco or alcohol."

"I believe I have heard that that is the case; also that addiction happens chiefly in individuals of weak willpower who would just as easily become the victims of intoxicating drinks and who are practically moral imbeciles, often addicted to other forms of depravity."

Emerson had devoured the toast as rapidly as I produced it. Now he drained his third cup of tea and sprang up from his chair. "I don't mean to criticize, Peabody, but you are taking a confounded long time over breakfast. We have work to do, you know."

At Emerson's request, Abdullah had already hired the necessary number of workers. Emerson hates this task, as he abhors all duties that keep him from the actual digging. When we opened the gates we found a sizable group waiting for us, squatting patiently on the ground. Some were men who had worked for us at Mazghunah the year before; their somber indigo robes and turbans, the mark of the Copts, or Christian Egyptians, stood out in sharp contrast to the paler, washed-out blue and white stripes of the Moslem garb. Around the outskirts of the ma.s.s of adults, the children ran back and forth with the splendid energy of youth, playing games and crying out in shrill high voices. ma.s.s of adults, the children ran back and forth with the splendid energy of youth, playing games and crying out in shrill high voices.

While Emerson greeted and inspected the men Abdullah had selected, I set out my medical supplies on a folding table and attended to the sufferers who awaited my coming, dispensing sulphate of copper for the ever-present ophthalmia, and ipecacuanha for bowel complaints. Emerson concluded his business first and stamped up and down until I finished, without, however, complaining of the delay; for beneath his gruff exterior Emerson has the kindest heart in the world and is never unmoved by the suffering of the less fortunate. The moment the last patient was dismissed, however, he seized me by the hand and set out for the dig, calling the men to follow.

"Makes one feel like a general, doesn't it, Peabody?" he said, in high good humor.

I glanced back at the ragged crowd straggling after us. "More like a leader of one of the madder crusades. Where is Nemo?"

Hot on the trail of Ramses." Emerson grinned. "I fancy the boy won't find it as easy to elude or corrupt him as he did Selim. I look forward to accomplishing a great deal of useful work this season, Peabody. Without interruption, Peabody!"

I knew the poor dear man was deluding himself, but I did not voice my doubts aloud. It was hard to think of murder, abduction, and a.s.sault on such a morning. The air was fresh and cool and the purity of the atmosphere strengthened every sense. Sounds carried farther, vision seemed magnified, and the surface of the skin tingled to the slightest touch. I drew in deep breaths of the salubrious air, and although Emerson set a rapid pace, I had no difficulty in matching it.

Our march was accompanied by the musical jingle of the accouterments dangling from my belt, all of them objects I find essential on a dig, such as matches in a waterproof box, small flasks of water and brandy, writing implements, a pocket knife, and so on. Emerson was not too fond of my carrying these things, for he complained that their sharp edges were an impediment to the impulsive embraces to which he was p.r.o.ne; but upon at least one occasion my chatelaine, as I jestingly called it, had been instrumental in saving our lives. His opinions had not altered, but he now kept them to himself.

Ever since my first season in Egypt, when I had sometimes found myself uncomfortably, not to say dangerously, enc.u.mbered to the absurd attire fashion forces upon the helpless female form, I had been refining and improving my working costume. Though I have never received credit for my innovations from the couturier establishments of Paris-and probably never shall, for envy is a characteristic of such people-I am convinced my bold ideas have had their effect on persons such as Worth and Lanvin. Only this past year I had come upon an ensemble known as a bicycle dress which incorporated many of my inventions, and which was the latest Paris mode. I had therefore caused several versions of Paris mode. I had therefore caused several versions of this costume to be made for myself, not in the impractical brown velveteen of the original, but in serge and lightweight flannel. The darker colors that are more suitable in England and in Europe, matching as they do the natural shades of nasty French mud and good healthy English dirt, are not appropriate for Egypt, so I had indulged myself in cheerful shades that would not show sand and dust. In honor of our first day, I had a.s.sumed the gayest of the collection. The wide Turkish trousers, gathered in at the knee, were so full that when I remained upright and motionless, the division was obliterated. Stout boots and gaiters completed the nether portion of the costume. A short double-breasted jacket was b.u.t.toned over a white shirtwaist, collar, and tie, and a broad leather belt adorned with the aforementioned accouterments (and of course a pistol in a matching leather holster) supported the trousers. The fabric was a brilliant crimson, Emerson's favorite shade. Though some might have considered it too flamboyant for an archaeological expedition, I felt it added a colorful touch. this costume to be made for myself, not in the impractical brown velveteen of the original, but in serge and lightweight flannel. The darker colors that are more suitable in England and in Europe, matching as they do the natural shades of nasty French mud and good healthy English dirt, are not appropriate for Egypt, so I had indulged myself in cheerful shades that would not show sand and dust. In honor of our first day, I had a.s.sumed the gayest of the collection. The wide Turkish trousers, gathered in at the knee, were so full that when I remained upright and motionless, the division was obliterated. Stout boots and gaiters completed the nether portion of the costume. A short double-breasted jacket was b.u.t.toned over a white shirtwaist, collar, and tie, and a broad leather belt adorned with the aforementioned accouterments (and of course a pistol in a matching leather holster) supported the trousers. The fabric was a brilliant crimson, Emerson's favorite shade. Though some might have considered it too flamboyant for an archaeological expedition, I felt it added a colorful touch.

Though concern about my personal appearance has never been a matter of paramount importance to me, I will candidly admit that my spirits rise when I know I look my best. I fancy there is nothing wrong with that. It displays a proper self-respect without which no individual, man or woman, can achieve great things. I was conscious that morning of looking my best. Add to that the glorious promise of the pyramids, pale gold in the morning light, and the presence of the man at my side, towing me along with hearty precipitation, and I knew there was not a woman in the universe happier than I.

I realized that I would not be able to penetrate the interior of the pyramid that day. Indeed, that pleasure would be an amus.e.m.e.nt of my leisure hours instead of a duty, since Emerson had determined to begin with the remains of the subsidiary structures alongside the major monument.

Of these there were an embarras de richesse, embarras de richesse, so to speak. To the north stood a tumbled pile of stone that had once been a tomb of the same shape, though considerably smaller. We also expected to find next to the pyramid the remains of the funerary temple. From this building a long roofed causeway had led across the desert to the edge of the cultivation. In addition, the land so to speak. To the north stood a tumbled pile of stone that had once been a tomb of the same shape, though considerably smaller. We also expected to find next to the pyramid the remains of the funerary temple. From this building a long roofed causeway had led across the desert to the edge of the cultivation. In addition, the land near the royal tomb was filled with burials of courtiers and family members, just as people of the Christian era had caused their graves to be placed near the tomb of a celebrated saint, in the hope, one presumes, that the sanct.i.ty of the primary corpse would seep over onto the less worthy. Superst.i.tion, alas, is a basic human weakness, and not restricted to pagans. near the royal tomb was filled with burials of courtiers and family members, just as people of the Christian era had caused their graves to be placed near the tomb of a celebrated saint, in the hope, one presumes, that the sanct.i.ty of the primary corpse would seep over onto the less worthy. Superst.i.tion, alas, is a basic human weakness, and not restricted to pagans.

Halting atop a ridge, Emerson shielded his eyes with his hand and gazed upon the scene. The breeze ruffled his dark hair and pressed the flannel of his shirt against his muscular breast. A thrill of (primarily) aesthetic pleasure ran through me as I watched him.

"Well, Peabody, what is it to be?" he asked.

"I am sure you have already decided," I replied. "We have debated the matter endlessly, without agreeing, and I know you will go right ahead with your plan no matter what I say."

"Peabody, I have explained on a number of occasions my reasons for postponing any investigation of the small subsidiary pyramid. I suppose, given your particular enthusiasm, even a little pyramid is better than no pyramid at all, but I believe we ought to search for private tombs and for the temple."

Before I could reply, a high, penetrating voice said, "If I were allowed to cast my vote on this matter, I would suggest we begin with the causeway. That line across the desert, which is easily discernible from this slight elevation, surely marks its original course, and were we to follow it to its ultimate-"

Emerson and I spoke at once. Emerson said, "Yes, yes, my boy." I said, "Ramses, be quiet."

Mr. Nemo laughed. "Is that how it's done?"

Pleased to see him more cheerful, I inquired, "And what is your opinion, Mr. Nemo?"

Nemo scratched his side. The gesture roused the direct suspicions; I vowed to myself that as soon as we returned to the house that evening, I would deal with him as I dealt with the donkeys. He needed more suitable attire as well.

"You cannot expect a sensible answer from me, Mrs. Emerson," he said. "I know nothing of archaeology; like all ignoramuses, I would like to see you dig up jewels and gold. The best chance of finding such things, I believe, would be in the nearby private tombs."

I gave Emerson a significant glance, or, at least, I tried to. He was not looking at me. "You are too modest, Mr. Nemo," I said. "Your remark betrays a greater knowledge of archaeology than you would claim."

"Oh, I got all that from Master Ramses here," said Nemo calmly. "As we walked he gave me a lecture on the principles of excavation. Well, Professor and Mrs. Emerson-what is your decision? And what can a mere tyro do to a.s.sist? I can wield a pick or shovel with the best of them."

Emerson fingered the cleft in his chin, as is his habit when deep in thought. Finally he said decisively, "Ramses, you and Abdullah can begin on the causeway. Stop at once if you come upon stone or brickwork. I must do a preliminary survey before we remove any object from its place, but as you have several tons of sand to shift, I should be able to finish before you achieve that end."

Ramses frowned. "There is no need for Abdullah to share the supervisory role, Papa, since I am entirely capable of managing by myself, and he might be better employed-"

"Be quiet, Ramses," I said. "Yes, yes, my boy," Emerson said. He added, "Nemo, go along with Ramses. He will tell you what to do."

"I don't doubt that he will," said Nemo.

We scattered to our appointed tasks. Mine was to a.s.sist Emerson with the surveying. To be sure, de Morgan had surveyed the site already, but Emerson had no confidence whatever in the abilities of the Director of the Antiquities Service. "These Frenchmen can't even count properly, Peabody. No wonder, with that ridiculous metric system of theirs."

Matters proceeded smoothly. As I have said, Abdullah was as capable as most trained archaeologists, and when I looked up from my own task I could see the men digging with such vigor that a fine cloud of sand enclosed them. A line of children ran to and fro, between the diggers and the distant dump site, emptying their baskets and returning to have them filled again.

We stopped for a rest and a light repast at nine-thirty, and were about to resume work when one of the men called out and pointed. Someone was approaching. The newcomer was a European, by his dress, and he was on foot, coming across the desert from the north.

Emerson said, "Curse it." He hates visitors interrupting his work. "Deal with the fellow, Peabody," he growled, s.n.a.t.c.hing up his transit. "I have vowed that this season I will not suffer the constant intrusions of idle tourists."

"He doesn't look like a tourist," I said. "His gait is rather unsteady, Emerson, don't you think? I wonder if he can be intoxicated."

"Humph," said Emerson. "As a matter of fact, he looks familiar. Who is it, Peabody?"

The countenance, whose features became ever more recognizable with increased proximity, was indeed one I had seen before, but I was unable to produce a name to go with the face. He was a pleasant-looking young chap, of medium height and wiry frame. The only unusual thing about him was his complexion, which was of an odd grayish-green.

He greeted us by name, and added hesitantly, "We met last year in Cairo. Quibell is my name."

"Of course," I said. "Won't you join us, Mr. Quibell? I can only offer you hard-boiled eggs and chilly toast-"

"No, thank you." Quibell shuddered and the greenish tinge of his cheeks intensified. "You must forgive me if I come at once to the reason for my disturbing you-"

"That would be a kindness," said Emerson. "I thought you were with Petrie this year."

"I am."

"But Petrie is at Thebes."

"He began at Sakkara, and left a few of us to finish the task of recording the private tombs," Quibell explained. "When I heard you were at Dahshoor, I took the liberty of coming to ask a favor. I know Mrs. Emerson's reputation as a physician-"

"Ha," said Emerson.

"I beg your pardon, Professor?"

"Nothing," said Emerson.

"Oh. I thought you said ... Well, not to put too fine a face upon it, we are all rather under the weather just now, and I thought perhaps I might beg some medicine from Mrs. Emerson. What I need, I believe, is a quant.i.ty of ipacanana."

"Ipecacuanha," I corrected.

"Oh. Yes-quite. Thank you, Mrs. Emerson."

"What is the nature of your complaint?" Emerson asked. A suspicion of the truth had occurred to him; the dawning delight on his face really did him no credit.

"That is evident, Emerson," I said. "Mr. Quibell's disinclination to take food and the peculiar shade of his complexion indicate a disturbance of the digestive tract." disinclination to take food and the peculiar shade of his complexion indicate a disturbance of the digestive tract."

"Food poisoning," said Emerson, choking with amus.e.m.e.nt. "It is food poisoning, isn't it, Quibell? Petrie's people always come down with food poisoning. He opens a tin, and eats half of the contents, and leaves it standing around in some unsanitary tomb, and then expects his staff members to finish the stuff... Ha, ha, ha!"

"Really, Emerson," I exclaimed indignantly. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Here is poor Mr. Quibell, pea-green with indigestion-"

"Peas," Emerson gasped. "Yes, I understand Petrie is particularly fond of tinned peas. Very good, Pea-body."

Quibell came loyally to his chief's defense. "It isn't Professor Petrie's fault. You know he operates with limited funds and he never has the slightest trouble himself-"

"No, the man has the digestion of a camel," Emerson agreed, struggling to control himself. "I do beg your pardon, Quibell; my laughter was in extremely bad taste. But Petrie's eccentricities are a source of great amus.e.m.e.nt to a simple, straightforward chap like myself."

Quibell's wide eyes shifted from Emerson, bareheaded under the baking sun, to me, and then to Ramses, who was giving the cat Bastet her daily lesson. "Heel, if you please," he was saying, and the cat promptly fell in behind him.

But, as I have said, for all his blunt manners, Emerson has the kindest of hearts. After Selim had fetched the bottle of ipecacuanha, and a few other items I thought might be useful, Emerson told Quibell to call on us for anything he needed, and insisted upon lending him a donkey and an escort for the return trip. "Petrie thinks nothing of a six-mile walk," he said, slapping the young man on the back with such friendly emphasis that he tottered. "Neither do I, of course. Do it all the time. But in your weakened condition . . . Are you sure you won't rest awhile before returning? Mrs. Emerson would love to put you to bed and dose you." anything he needed, and insisted upon lending him a donkey and an escort for the return trip. "Petrie thinks nothing of a six-mile walk," he said, slapping the young man on the back with such friendly emphasis that he tottered. "Neither do I, of course. Do it all the time. But in your weakened condition . . . Are you sure you won't rest awhile before returning? Mrs. Emerson would love to put you to bed and dose you."

"Thank you, Professor, but I must return at once. I am not the only sufferer, and the others are awaiting relief."

"Didn't I hear there was a young lady with Professor Petrie this year?" I inquired.

A blush spread across Mr. Quibell's cheeks. The addition of pink to the original green produced a remarkable tint, a sort of mottled puce. "There are three ladies, in fact," he replied. "My sister and-er-two others. It is primarily on her-on their account that I came."

Quibell trotted off, accompanied by one of our men. He really did look ill, and after he had vanished from sight I said to Emerson, "Perhaps I ought to go to Sakkara. When I think of the young ladies alone and ill-"

"Don't be such a busybody, Amelia," said my fond husband.

On the surface and in actual fact, Mr. Quibell's visit was one of those casual incidents that often befall people in our situation. Yet it had consequences of the most dramatic nature, and Quibell himself, the innocent instigator of some of them, would have been as surprised as any of us at what ensued.

The aforesaid consequences did not occur until late in the afternoon. We had finished excavation for the day. Emerson was more determined than ever that he and I should camp near the pyramid instead of staying in the house. His arguments were persuasive, and I had returned with him to the site after tea to inspect the pit he had found. day. Emerson was more determined than ever that he and I should camp near the pyramid instead of staying in the house. His arguments were persuasive, and I had returned with him to the site after tea to inspect the pit he had found.

In Upper Egypt, where the river has cut a deep channel through the sandstone of the plateau, many tombs are dug into the sides of the cliffs. Properly cleansed and swept, the empty chambers make admirable accommodations. I am speaking, of course, of the upper chambers of the tombs, those that served as chapels; for the burial chambers themselves were far back in the cliffs, sometimes at the bottom of deep shafts. Here in the north, the majority of the tombs were of the type known as mastabas, after the stone benches whose shape their superstructures resembled. When the superstructures survived, they could be converted into quite attractive dwelling places, but as yet we had discovered nothing of that sort. The pit Emerson had discovered was just that-a nasty hole in the ground.

However, I enjoyed wandering hand in hand with Emerson across the barren plain. My amiable mood was only slightly marred when Emerson kept insisting that all we needed was a sc.r.a.p of canvas to stretch over his wretched hole. At the least we required tents, and tents I was determined to have. If the necessary materials could not be procured in Menyat Dahshoor, I would simply have to make a trip to Cairo.

We had climbed a ridge in order to get a better view, and perhaps to discern in the shapes of the lengthening shadows some feature of the landscape that had not been visible under the direct rays of the sun. As always, my eyes were drawn to the west, where the pyramid slopes had deepened into bronze against the sunset. Nothing moved on that vast empty plain, and there was no sound to be heard except that of our voices, which had, I fear, risen to a considerable pitch during our discussion about the tents. When we stopped speaking, it was not because we had come to an agreement, but because we both realized no agreement would ever be reached. So pervasive was the ensuing silence that it was startling in the extreme to have it broken by the sound of a human voice. to be heard except that of our voices, which had, I fear, risen to a considerable pitch during our discussion about the tents. When we stopped speaking, it was not because we had come to an agreement, but because we both realized no agreement would ever be reached. So pervasive was the ensuing silence that it was startling in the extreme to have it broken by the sound of a human voice.

We turned as one man (so to speak) and beheld, standing motionless on the level ground below the ridge, a woman's form. The gray-blue shadow blurred her features, and for one startled moment I felt as if I were seeing my own reflection in a dusty mirror. The dark ma.s.s of loosened hair was the same shade as my own; the high boots and full nether garment were like mine; the very shape of the body, belted tightly around the waist and swelling out above and below that constriction, was the image of my form.

I remembered the old legend of the doppelganger, that eerie double whose appearance portends approaching death, and I confess that a momentary thrill of terror froze my limbs. Emerson was equally affected. A low "Oh, curse it" expressed the depth of his emotions and his arm held me close to his side, as if daring even the Grim Reaper to tear me from him.

The shadowy shape below swayed and shivered as when one tosses a stone into a pool of dark water. Slowly it sank forward and lay motionless.

The spell was broken. It was no spirit I had seen, but a living woman-living, at least, until that moment. Though how she had come there, and why, were mysteries almost as great as the ultimate mystery of life and death.

I scrambled down the slope, with Emerson close behind, and knelt beside the fallen form. The woman's costume was certainly similar to mine, but there was no other resemblance except for the color of her hair. Despite her deadly pallor, she was obviously some years younger than I-hardly more than a girl. A pair of gold-rimmed spectacles had been pushed aslant by the force of her fall, and the lashes that shadowed her ashen cheeks were long and curly. costume was certainly similar to mine, but there was no other resemblance except for the color of her hair. Despite her deadly pallor, she was obviously some years younger than I-hardly more than a girl. A pair of gold-rimmed spectacles had been pushed aslant by the force of her fall, and the lashes that shadowed her ashen cheeks were long and curly.

"This is too cursed much," Emerson declared emphatically. "You know, Amelia, that I am the most tolerant and charitable of men; I don't mind lending a helping hand to the unfortunate, but two in one day is putting a strain on my good nature. Er-she is not dead, I hope?"