The Snake, The Crocodile, And The Dog Part 17

"Since you refer to him as 'poor Vincey,' I take it you are of the opinion that he was treated unjustly?"

I inquired.

Howard looked a little uncomfortable. "I don't know the truth of the matter. I doubt that anyone does.

He is a pleasant chap- very likable, I know nothing to his discredit except . . . But that is just gossip, and not the sort of thing I should mention in your presence, Mrs. Emerson."

"Ah," I said, motioning to the waiter to refill the young man's gla.s.s. "Cherchez la femme! Or is it Or is it les femmes?" les femmes?"

"The plural, decidedly," said Howard. He caught Emerson's eye and added quickly, "Idle gossip, as I said. Er- tell me how you are getting on in the Valley. Any new tombs?"

For the rest of the meal we confined ourselves to professional gossip. Emerson enjoyed himself, tantalizing our young friend with mysterious hints and refusing to elaborate on them. Howard was about to explode with curiosity when Emerson took out his watch and begged he would excuse us. "One of our friends is giving a fantasia in our honor," he explained, stretching the truth a little. "We must not be too late."

We parted at the door of the hotel. Howard set off on foot, whistling cheerfully, and we bargained for a carriage. The main street of Luxor, lined with modern hotels and ancient ruins, runs along the river, behind it is a typical village, with streets of bare dirt and cl.u.s.tered huts.

No premonition of disaster troubled my mind. I was more concerned about my thin evening slippers and trailing skirts, and with the distance we had to travel. This does not prove, as some claim, that such forebodings are only superst.i.tion,- it proves that on some occasions they fail one. I could have wished mine had chosen another occasion on which to fail

We left the lights of the hotels behind us and turned onto a narrow lane between fields of sugarcane, higher than a tall man's head. The leaves whispered softly in the night breeze. From time to time lights from country houses twinkled through the stalks. The night air was cool and refreshing,- the mingled odors that mark an Egyptian town- the smell of donkeys, charcoal fires, and lack of sanitation-faded, to be replaced by a more salubrious scent of green growing crops and fresh earth. The carriage was open, the night air cooled my face, the rhythmic clop of the horses' hooves, the creak of the leather seats blended into a magical mood of romance. I leaned against Emerson's shoulder,- his arm was around me. Not even the fixed regard of the cat, on the seat opposite, could mar the moment

The drive was popular with visitors to Luxor, for it was one of the few country roads wide enough to take carriages. We met one or two others and had to pull off to let them by.

The driver glanced back, cursing in Arabic. I could not see what was behind us, but I had already heard the sounds: the pound of galloping hooves and a blurred chorus of voices. Someone was overtaking us, and presumably they meant to pa.s.s us, for the noise swelled rapidly.

"Good Gadl" I exclaimed, trying to look over the high back of the seat.

"It is just a party of young idiot tourists," Emerson said. "They race on this stretch all the time." He leaned forward and tapped the driver's shoulder. "Let them go by," he said in Arabic. "There is a s.p.a.ce there ahead, beyond the wall."

The driver obeyed, pulling over in the nick of time, and the other carriage thundered past. Shouts and cheers and a s.n.a.t.c.h of raucous song hailed us, and someone waved a bottle. Then the carriage lights disappeared around a curve in the road.

"They will have themselves in the ditch if they go on at that pace," Emerson said, settling back.

We proceeded on our way, coming at last into a more thickly settled area. It was a strange blend of humble huts and walled houses, with open fields between.

"Not far now," said Emerson. "By Gad, I was right! There is the carriage that pa.s.sed us. In the ditch "

"Shall we not stop and offer a.s.sistance?" I asked.

"Why the devil should we? Let them walk back, it will sober them."

He had already ascertained, as had I, that the horse was not injured. It stood patiently by the road, while the men tried to right the carriage. They were laughing and cursing, it was clear that no one had been hurt.

We had left them some distance behind when suddenly the cat sat up on the seat and stared intently at the side of the road We were pa.s.sing a large building of some sort, it looked like an abandoned warehouse or factory. Before I could see what had attracted the cat's attention, it gathered itself together and sprang out of the carriage.

"Confound the confounded beast!" Emerson shouted. "Ukaf, driver- stop at once."

"Oh, dear, we will never find it in the dark," I lamented. "Here, Anubis. Here, kitty, kitty."

Two eerily glowing orbs appeared, at ground level. "There he is," Emerson said. "That is a door behind him, he is looking for mice, no doubt. Stay here, Peabody. I'll go after him."

Before I could stop him, he had jumped out of the carriage. Then- when it was too late- the recognition of peril struck me like a blow in the face. For as Emerson reached down to take the cat into his arms, the door behind it swung open. I saw Emerson fall forward and heard the sickening thud of the club that had struck his bowed head. Wild with apprehension as to his fate, I could not go to his a.s.sistance, for I was fully occupied in fending off the two men who had rushed at the carriage. The driver was face-down in the road, a third man held the head of the terrified horse. My evening parasol- curse my vanity!- broke as I brought it down on the turban of one of my a.s.sailants. It did no more than annoy him. Hard hands captured mine and dragged me out of the carriage.

I screamed- something I seldom do, but the situation seemed to warrant it. I did not expect a response.

It was with incredulous relief that I heard, through the extremely filthy bag that had been pulled over my head, an answering voice. No- voices! Rescue was approaching! I renewed my struggles, the man who held me had to release one of my hands in order to hold the bag in place, and I clawed blindly but effectively at his face. He cried out and called me something rude in Arabic.

"Choke the witch and keep her quiet," exclaimed another voice.

"Hurry, they are- "

He broke off with a pained grunt and the man who held me let me go so suddenly that I fell to the ground. The bag was twisted around my head, I could not get it off, when hands seized me again I struck out as hard as I could.

"Ouch!" was the response- a good, familiar English "ouch." I ceased my resistance and concentrated on removing the bag. A voice continued plaintively, "Confound it, ma'am, that's not a ladylike thing to do to a fellow when he was only trying to help."

I did not reply. I did not thank him or stop to see who he was. Leaping to my feet, I s.n.a.t.c.hed a lantern from the hand of another individual who stood nearby and dashed toward the door of the warehouse.

It gaped open and empty. The darkness within was not complete; moonlight entering through holes in the ruined roof streaked the floor. Calling and rushing back and forth, I swept every foot of that floor with the lantern beam before I was forced to admit the truth. The place was deserted. There was no trace of Emerson-except for a damp spot, where some liquid darker and more viscous than water had soaked into the dirty floor.

CHAPTER 6.

"I do not scruple to employ mendacity and a fict.i.tious appearance of female incompetence when the occasion demands it."

I fear my behavior thereafter did me no credit. The sight of the cat strolling toward me sent me into a frenzy, I s.n.a.t.c.hed it up and shook it, and I think I shouted at it, demanding to know what it had done with Emerson This action appeared to surprise it, instead of struggling and scratching, it hung limp in my hands and let out an inquiring mew. When its mouth opened I saw there was something caught on one tooth. It was a shred of dirty cotton that might have come from a native robe.

After a time I heard one of my rescuers remark in a worried voice, "Say, boys, the lady's gone off her head. She'll hurt herself tearing around like that, how about I give her a little sock on the jaw?"

"You can't sock a lady, you lummox," was the equally worried reply. "d.a.m.ned if I know what to do."

The words penetrated the fog of horror that had enveloped me. Shame overcame me, common sense returned. I was shaking from head to foot, the lantern swayed in my hand, but I believe my voice was fairly steady when I spoke.

"I am not 'tearing around,' gentlemen, I am searching for my husband. He was here. He is not here now. They have carried him off. There is another door- they must have gone that way. Pray don't stop me"

- for one of them had taken hold of my arm- "let me go after them. I must find him!"

My rescuers were none other than the young Americans who had behaved in so ungentlemanly a manner at the hotel. They had been in the carriage that had pa.s.sed us. Falling into the ditch must have sobered them, for they were quick to understand and respond to my plea, and very kind, in their peculiar American fashion. Two of them immediately went off to follow the trail of the kidnappers and another insisted I return to the carriage.

"You can't go running around the fields dressed like that, ma'am," he said, when I would have resisted. "Leave it to Pat and Mike, they're as good as c.o.o.n hounds on a trail. How about a nip of brandy? For medicinal purposes, you know."

Perhaps it was the brandy that cleared my head. I prefer to believe it was the resurgence of my indomitable will. Though every nerve in my body ached to join the search, I saw the strength of his argument, and it then occurred to me that there was better help close at hand. One of the young men- there were five of them in all- agreed to go to the house of Abdullah's uncle and tell our reis what had transpired. It was not long, though it seemed an interminable interlude to me, before Abdullah and Daoud were with me. I came perilously close to breaking down when I saw Abdullah's familiar face, distorted by worry and disbelief, Emerson had seemed to him like a G.o.d, immune to ordinary danger.

a.s.sisted by the young Americans and a posse of their relatives, Abdullah and Daoud searched the fields and the nearby houses, ignoring the (legitimate) complaints of their occupants. But too much time had pa.s.sed. He had been carried off and by now could be miles away The dusty road kept its secret, too much traffic had pa.s.sed along it.

Dawn was pale in the sky before I could be persuaded to return to the Castle. The driver had only been struck unconscious, restored by brandy and baksheesh, he turned the horse and the carnage. Daoud and the cat went with me. Abdullah would not leave the spot. I believe I had the courtesy to thank the Americans. It was not entirely their fault if they regarded the business as an exciting adventure.

I find it difficult to recall my sensations during the succeeding days Events stand out in my memory sharp and clear as detailed engravings, but it was as if I were enveloped by a sh.e.l.l of clear cold ice that impeded neither vision nor touch nor hearing, but through which nothing could penetrate.

When the news of Emerson's disappearance became known, I was overwhelmed with offers of a.s.sistance. This should have touched me. It did not, nothing could touch me then. I wanted action, not sympathy The local authorities were hustled and badgered into a show of efficiency uncommon to them,- they arrested and questioned every man in Luxor who had cause to hold a grudge against my husband. The list was fairly extensive. At one time half the population of Gurnah, whose inhabitants resented Emerson's war against their tomb-robbing habits, were in the local prison. Hearing of this from Abdullah (several of whose distant kin were among the prisoners), I was able to bring about their release Abdullah had his own methods of dealing with the men of Gurnah, and I knew Emerson would himself have interfered to forbid the kinds of interrogation the local police employed. Beating the soles of the feet with splintered reeds was a favorite method.