The Snake, The Crocodile, And The Dog Part 41

"Bah," said Emerson.

It was not long before yawns and lengthening silences interrupted speech, and I decreed that it was time to retire. It had been a long hard day for most of us.

Bertha was not pleased to learn that she was to share my tent. Not that she said so- she was a very silent creature, at least with me- but she was very adept at conveying her feelings without the use of words. Removing only her outer robe and veil, she rolled herself in a blanket and within a few minutes her regular breathing indicated that she had fallen asleep. I had intended to ask her a few questions, but I was unusually tired myself. I felt my eyelids droop . . .

How long it took me to realize that my drowsiness was unnatural I cannot say. I am particularly resistant to drugs and hypnosis, it is not so much physical immunity as something in my character, I believe.

For an indeterminate time I lay in a semi-stupor, dozing off and waking, hearing the low voices of the workmen and the clatter of cooking pots gradually fade into silence. It was well past midnight, I think, when the sleepless sentinel within my brain finally made itself heard. "This is no natural repose," it cried. "Arouse yourself and act!"

It was easier said (or thought) than done. My limbs felt as limp as boneless tentacles. But the remedy was close at hand. I had employed it before in a similar situation, and thanks to the rearrangement of the tent made necessary by the addition of Bertha's cot, all my equipment was nearby. I had only to stretch out my hand.

My fingers were as clumsy as an animal's paws, but at last I managed to open the box of medical supplies and extract my smelling salts. A good whiff of them not only cleared my head, it left the distinct impression that the top of that appendage had been blown off. I sat up and put my feet on the floor. I had taken off my boots and jacket and my belt of accounterments before retiring. The boots, at least, I must rea.s.sume before proceeding to investigate. Not only was the ground uneven and painful to stockinged feet, but there were scorpions and other stinging creatures to be avoided.

I was still fumbling for my boots- for I did not deem it expedient to strike a light- when I heard a soft rattle of pebbles from without, and realized that a similar sound must have alerted my sleepless sentinel. An animal might have caused it, or a man abroad on some harmless errand. But I thought not. Leaping to my feet, I promptly fell flat onto the floor- or, to be more accurate, onto Bertha's cot. The sudden impact was too much for the frail structure, it collapsed, with Bertha still on it.

Though I had not planned it that way, the incident had the desired effect, i.e., to alarm the camp.

My startled shout was answered by a louder cry. Rocks crunched and rolled under running feet. A shot rang out.

I managed to extract myself from the ma.s.s of tumbled blankets and bits of broken cot Bertha had not stirred. If I had had any doubts about being drugged, her immobility would have removed them, normal sleep would surely have been interrupted by the collapse of the bed and the impact of my body. First I located my parasol, then, finding my knees were still too unsteady to permit a more erect posture, I crawled toward the entrance of the tent. When I raised the flap the first thing my hazed eyes beheld was a gigantic firefly, wavering back and forth in drunken flight. With some effort I focused my vision. The light was that of a lantern. Emerson was holding it. Seeing me he said, "h.e.l.l and d.a.m.nation!" but he said no more, for his knees buckled and he sat down suddenly on the ground- on a sharp rock, to judge by the equally profane outcry that followed.

"It is most interesting," I remarked somewhat later, "to observe the varying effects of a particular drug on different people."

"Urgh," said Emerson. He had irritably refused the offer of my smelling salts, and was drinking cup after cup of strong coffee.

"You," I continued, "may have acquired a certain immunity as a result of- er- your recent experiences. Cyrus was less affected than Rene and Charles- "

"Argh," said Cyrus.

"While Bertha was the most susceptible of all."

"Will she be all right?" Heavy-eyed and pale, Rene looked anxiously at me.

"Yes, certainly. She will have a good night's sleep, which is more than can be said of the rest of us. The guard," I continued, "appears to have been relatively unaffected. Of course we don't know how the laudanum was administered, so we cannot be certain of how much each person consumed."

"It was in the food," Emerson muttered.

"Or drink. But which dish? Everyone got some of it, not only ourselves, but the Egyptians. Even the guard admits he was dozing when he heard me cry out. The question is one of some importance, you must agree, since we must determine who had the opportunity to add the opium to our food. We have a traitor in our midst, gentlemen!"

Emerson gave me a critical look over the rim of his coffee cup. "Allowing for the excessive melodrama of your speech patterns, Peabody, it appears you are correct. The chef is the most obvious suspect."

"Too obvious," I said. "You know how he cooks- pots simmering for hours on a fire, out in the open, with people constantly coming and going- and staying to gossip. We must interrogate the servants- "

"Rot," Emerson growled. "There is no way we can determine who is responsible for this. The filthy stuff may have been added to one of the water jars before we ever left the village. Anyone could have done it." His eyes raked the watching faces with sapphirine intensity, and he repeated with slow emphasis, "Anyone."

Charles immediately looked so guilty, my old friend Inspector Cuff would have arrested him on the spot. It led to a strong presumption of his innocence.

But after we had finally dispersed I asked myself what I really knew about the two young archaeologists. Rene had been with Cyrus for several years, but even old acquaintance could not clear a man of suspicion in this case. The lure of treasure and of discovery is strong enough to seduce those of weak character. Aside from our men from Aziyeh, there were only three who could be considered above suspicion: Emerson, Cyrus and myself. As for Bertha . . Her drug-induced sleep was genuine. I had applied a number of tests, the results of which left no doubt in my mind. But only the stupidest of conspirators would fail to include himself- or herself- among the victims in such a case. I did not think Bertha was that stupid.

In the clear light of morning we were able to determine that only the area near my tent showed signs of uninvited guests. The partial prints of bare feet were visible in two places where none of our men had trod.

When we started out for the royal wadi, Cyrus was carrying a rifle. Emerson's eyebrows climbed when he saw it, but he made no objection, even when Cyrus said coolly, "Don't get het up if you see someone above, on the plateau. I sent a couple of my boys up there to keep a lookout."

Like Cyrus, I had determined to take a few precautions of my own. Over Emerson's violent objections (which I of course ignored) to the depletion of his work force, I had stationed Selim, Abdullah's youngest son, at the far end of the main wadi. Selim was Ramses's particular friend, a handsome boy barely sixteen years of age. Knowing the foolhardy courage of youth, I had been reluctant to a.s.sign him to this particular task, I only did so after Abdullah a.s.sured me that both he and Selim would feel dishonored if his offer were refused. I cautioned the boy as emphatically as I was able that his role was that of an observer only, and that he would fail in that role if he went on the attack. "Stay in hiding," I instructed him. "Fire a warning shot to alert us if you see anything that arouses your suspicions, but do not shoot at anyone.

If you will not swear by the Prophet to obey my order, Selim, I will send someone else."

His big brown long-lashed eyes wide and candid, Selim swore. I did not like the loving way he handled the rifle, but with Abdullah beaming with paternal pride, I felt I had little choice I only hoped that if he did shoot someone, it would be Mohammed and not the reporter from the London Times. London Times.

Or even Kevin O'Connell. It was he whom I expected, of course. I was only surprised he had not succeeded in tracking us down before this.

When we returned to camp that evening, after grueling hours in the heat and dry air of the burial chamber, I found Selim waiting. I had ordered him to come back and report to me at sunset. Not even to protect Emerson would I have allowed such an excitable lad to stay in his dangerous post after dark, when, as all Egyptians knew, demons and afreets came out of hiding. Selim's face was rapt with awe.

He could hardly wait to tell me his news.

"He came, Sitt, as you foretold he would- the man himself, the very one you described to me. Truly you are the greatest of magicians! He said he had not told you of his coming. He said you would be glad to see him, though. He said he was a friend He said- "

"He tried to persuade- or bribe?- you to let him pa.s.s," I said, thereby increasing my reputation for supernatural powers in the eyes of the innocent youth. "Did he send a message, as I- as my magic- foretold he would?"

"The Sitt knows all and sees all," Selim said reverently

"Thank you, Selim," I said, taking the folded paper he handed me. "Now rest. You have done a man's work today."

Bertha had waked in the morning without ill effect, though she had been drowsy and sluggish all day.

She had gone straight to our tent when we returned, but when I entered she rose and glided out. I did not attempt to detain her. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I unfolded the note, which appeared to have been composed on the spot, for the writing was so uneven the paper must have been resting upon a rocky surface. That difficulty had not restrained Kevin's tendency toward verbosity or dimmed his ebullient Irish spirits.

After the usual florid compliments he went on: I look forward with a delight I cannot express in mere words to renewing my acquaintance with such admired friends as you and the Professor, and to expressing my felicitations on another miraculous escape. In fact I look forward to it so much I won't take no for an answer. I have taken up my abode in the pleasant little house someone (dare I hope it was you, in the expectation of my coming?) kindly constructed not far from the entrance to this canyon. One of the villagers has agreed to bring food and water for me daily, so I expect to be quite comfortable. I am an impatient fellow, though, as you know, so don't keep me waiting too long... or I may be tempted to risk my neck crossing the plateau and climbing down to join you.

Further compliments followed. It was the closing words-an impertinent "A bientot,"-that forced from my lips an expression of the outrage I had thus far suppressed.

"Curse it!" I cried.

Bertha's face appeared in the tent opening. Over her veil her eyes were wide with alarm. "Is something wrong? Is it from- from him?"

"No, no," I said. "Nothing is wrong- nothing that need concern you. You needn't stand outside, Bertha, though your courtesy is noted and appreciated" Folding the letter, I put it in my box and went out to splash water on my dusty and now even more heated face.

I did not join in the conversation around the fire as energetically as was my wont that evening,. I was preoccupied with considering how I could meet Kevin and head him off. I did not doubt that if I failed to confront him he would do precisely what he had threatened to do, and if he did not break his neck climbing down the cliff face, one of Cyrus's guards would probably shoot him. A less honorable woman might have regarded that as an ideal solution, but I could not entertain such a reprehensible idea. Besides, there was always the chance that Kevin might elude the guard and accomplish the descent without damaging himself.

I must see him and speak with him, and hope that an appeal to the friendship he claimed to feel for me would persuade him to leave us alone. A little bribe, in the form of a promise of future interviews, might a.s.sist in achieving the desired end. But how was I to reach him alone and unescorted? Cyrus would insist on accompanying me if he knew what I planned, and Cyrus's critical presence would destroy the friendly, confidential atmosphere that was essential to any hope of success.

I would have to go during the midday rest period, I decided. It would have been folly to attempt the long, difficult walk in darkness, and I could not disappear for any length of time during working hours. The rest period usually lasted for two or three hours. There was no hope of being able to return before my absence was discovered, since the distance was almost three miles each way, but if I could deal with Kevin before they caught me up, I would have accomplished my purpose. It was feasible, I concluded. Certainly it was worth a try. And there could be no danger, for Selim would be on guard at the entrance to the wadi. Having decided this, I applied myself to my dinner with good appet.i.te. The others, I observed, were inclined to study each bite suspiciously before putting it into their mouths, but I had reasoned that the same trick would not be tried again so soon after the failure of the first attempt.

Such proved to be the case I woke several times during the night, feeling only normal drowsiness before I allowed myself to sleep again. Bertha seemed restless too, which further rea.s.sured me.

Rene and I put in a good morning's work in the Pillared Hall (i.e., the burial chamber), for I never allow mental distraction to interfere with my archaeological duties We had almost finished the back wall, the lowest sections could not be accurately copied until the floor was cleared to bedrock. I pointed this out to Emerson when we stopped for luncheon.

"I don't suppose you want the men stirring up dust while you are copying?" he inquired. "Leave that till later. You still have three walls and four sides of two pillars to go, I believe?"

Rene's face fell. He had hoped for a day or two off while the men worked.

I had considered slipping a little laudanum into the tea at lunch to ensure everyone would sleep soundly while I stole away. That did not seem quite cricket, so I only put it in Bertha's cup.

She dropped off almost at once. Though I was on fire to be up and away, for time was of the essence, I forced myself to remain rec.u.mbent a little longer in order to ensure that the others had followed her into the land of Morpheus. As I lay watching her I could not help but wonder what the future held for such a woman. What thoughts, what fears, what hopes lay concealed behind that smooth white brow and those enigmatic dark eyes? She had never confided in me, nor responded to my attempts to win her confidence Yet I had seen her engaged in animated conversation with Rene, and less often with Charles, even Emerson had managed to induce, upon occasion, one of her rare silvery laughs. Some women do not get on with other women, but that could not be the cause of her reticence with me, because she was equally wary of Cyrus- who, I must admit, did not conceal his dislike of her. Was she still a willing slave of the man who had been so brutal to her? Had it been she who drugged our food?