The Snake, The Crocodile, And The Dog Part 45

"By the Almighty!" Cyrus exclaimed "For pity's sake, go on, Amelia, I can't stand the suspense!"

". . . its cage, and then waking up at dawn to put it back before some other member of the household encountered it. Nefret very kindly a.s.sisted

Again emotion overcame me. "Another one," I said hollowly. "I thought one was bad enough, and now . . . Forgive me, Cyrus. I will endeavor not to break down again.

". . . a.s.sisted me on two occasions she said I was a growing boy and needed my rest. I hardly need say, Mama and Papa, that I took this without resentment, in the spirit in which it was meant.

"Naturally I had shut up the dogs and warned Bob and Jerry to lock themselves into the lodge while the lion was out. They agreed this was a sensible procedure.

<>"Uncle Walter has insulted me mortally. His remarks on the subject of the lion were uncalled <>for, unfair, and extremely rude, particularly in view of the fact that my foresight prevented- <>or helped to prevent, at least- an incident that might have proved disastrous.

<>"Having antic.i.p.ated such an occurrence, I was the first to wake when the piercing screams of <>a female in the last extremity of terror, mingled with the growls of a large feline, rent the night!

<>I had been sleeping in my clothes, of course, in order to be fully prepared and ready for action, <>it was the work of a moment to s.n.a.t.c.h up the weapon I had put at hand (a poker from the fireplace] and rush down the stairs.

<>"The moon cast a frosty light upon the lawn (which was, in fact, covered with frost, the night being cold). The forms of the great jungle beast and its prey stood out in sharp outline.

<>Hastening toward the group, poker at the ready, I beheld a somewhat disconcerting sight. There was just enough light for me to make out the features of the individual lying supine between the lion's paws. With a start of chagrin, I recognized her as Ellis, Aunt Evelyn's new maid.

<>"In fact, the lion would probably not have harmed her. To be sure, it was growling, but the sound held a note of inquiry rather than ferocity. I had the distinct impression it did not know what to do next. Ellis had swooned, which was no doubt a sensible move on her part.

<>"While I was thinking how best to proceed, I saw Nefret running toward me, her little bare feet noiseless on the gra.s.s. Her unbound hair streamed out behind her, silver-gold in the pale light, her light nightdress billowed about her slender limbs. She was a vision of. . . [Something had been scratched out here. Ramses went on.] . . . of womanly efficiency. Her knife was in her hand.

<>"With her a.s.sistance I persuaded the lion to abandon his new toy. Grumbling under his breath he ambled off, with Nefret's fingers twisted affectionately in his mane. The literary allusions that occurred to me will doubtless occur to you, Mama, as well, so I will not take up paper describing them.

<>"I set to work restoring Ellis to consciousness, but I had not had time to slap her more than once before I heard a considerable racket coming from the house. I had been expecting some reaction from that Quarter, I was surprised it had not occurred before, but I suppose the actions I have described had taken only a few minutes. Astonishing, is it not, how quickly time pa.s.ses when one is engaged in interesting activities?

<>"The sounds I heard suggested to me something rather more serious than the indignation of Uncle Walter at being awakened. These cries were high-pitched- female, I deduced. So abandoning Ellis, I hastened to ascertain their origin.

<>"As you know, the majority of the windows in the castle are narrow and small. Only the sitting room has been modernized; its windows open onto the rose garden. It was from this room that the noise issued, and as I came through the garden I was distressed to note that the windows stood open. The room was dark and at first I could not make out what was going on, rapid movements, gasps and exclamations of pain and exertion were all the evidence available to me. Then the combatants- for such they were- approached the window. The poker fell from my palsied hand when I identified them.

<>"One was a man, a hulking fellow wearing a short fustian jacket and a cap pulled low over his eyes. He held a cudgel or thick stick, with which be was warding off the blows directed at him by . . .

<>"But no doubt you have antic.i.p.ated me. Her nightcap had come off and hung by its strings, her braided hair fell over one shoulder. Her face was set in a ferocious snarl. Quite unlike her normal sweet look, and the<> <>instrument with which she was belaboring the cowering villain appeared-and indeed proved-to be a parasol.

<>"I recovered myself and my poker and rushed to her a.s.sistance. She was not in need of it, but the rascal might have got away from her if I had not tripped him up. Together we subdued him. Tearing off the sash of her dressing gown, Aunt Evelyn bade me bind his arms.

<>"It was at this point that Uncle Walter arrived on the scene, followed by Gargery and Bob, both of whom carried lanterns. They had been wandering around the grounds, uncertain as to where the action was taking place. (Wandering gives an inaccurate impression, in fact, for it was obvious from Uncle Walter's appearance that he had been running as fast as he could, though to little effect. Like Papa, he does not like being waked up suddenly and is slow to react.) <>.

<>"Bob lit the lamps and Gargery finished binding the arms and legs of our burglar. This was at my direction, I am sorry to say that Uncle Walter lost his head completely. I have never seen him behave so erratically. He rushed at Aunt Evelyn and shook her very hard. Then he embraced her as fiercely as ever I have seen . . . [Another phrase was scratched out. I knew what it must have been, though ] . . . others do. Then he shook her again. Strangely enough, Aunt Evelyn did not seem to mind.

<>"I do not have another sheet of paper, and cannot get one, since Uncle Walter has confined me to my room until further notice, so I am forced to be brief. Ellis was on her way to meet a friend, as she explained, when the lion intercepted her. (Rose says people like Ellis manage to find friends wherever they go. It is an endearing characteristic, I think.) The burglar claimed he was looking for valuables. Inspector Cuff has taken him off to London. Inspector Cuff is a very taciturn person. All he would say, before he left with his prisoner, was, 'I think I can be of greater use to you elsewhere, Master Ramses. You will hear from me in due course.' As for Aunt Evelyn, she says she has had the parasol for quite a long time. I have never seen her carry it. It is like yours, Mama, very heavy and plain, not her usual little ruffled ones. I wonder why she would have something like that if she never expected to need it? But that is another matter we can discuss at a future time.

<>"My paper tells me I must stop. Your loving son, Ramses.

<>"P.S. I know that Papa is very busy with his excavations, but it would comfort me a great deal to receive a message in his own hand."

Cyrus and I sat in silence for a few moments. Then he said, "Excuse me, Amelia. I will be right back."

When he returned he was carrying a bottle of brandy. I had a little sip. Cyrus had a little more.

"Comment," I said, "would be futile. Now let me read Evelyn's version."

But Evelyn made no reference to the events Ramses had described. After affectionate greetings and a.s.surances that all were well, she explained that her chief reason for writing was to clarify in her own mind what might lie behind the mysterious events that had recently occurred.

My own poor powers of reasoning are so inferior to yours, dear Amelia, that I hesitate even to express thoughts that must long ago have been apparent to your clear, decisive mind. Yet I will venture to do so, in the hope that by sheer chance I may have stumbled on some notion that has not occurred to you.

I began as I believe you might have done, by asking how these terrible people could have learned the secret you were so careful to conceal. The story you gave out was plausible, so our enemies must have had sources of information not known to the public. Several possibilities have occurred to me, I list them in the neat order you would approve.

1. One of us might unwittingly have betrayed information that could only have come from a visit to the place mentioned by Mr. Forth. You would never be indiscreet enough to do this, dear Amelia, search my conscience as I might, I can think of no occasion on which I might have done so. I do not wish to ask Walter, for the very idea that he might be responsible, however innocently, for the troubles that have befallen us would break his n.o.ble heart. Yet I wonder: Did he or Radcliffe speak in the articles they have written since your return, or to colleagues in archaeology, of things an expert might recognize as firsthand knowledge? The articles have not yet been published, but surely they have been read by the editors of the journals at least?

2. One of the officers at the military camp may have had more information about the matter than you realize. Had Mr. Forthright befriended any of them? Had they been shown the map? You mentioned that there were compa.s.s readings on it. I know little of such matters, but it would seem to me that such precise details would arouse interest and intelligent speculation, particularly after you came back to Gebel Barkal with Nefret.

3. I hesitate to mention this, for it seems even more foolish than my other silly ideas, but I cannot help recalling the young man Nefret met at Miss Mclntosh's school. An individual whose curiosity had already been aroused might seek her out with the intention of questioning her about her experiences. As we all know, it is very difficult to avoid slips of the tongue, and an innocent child is particularly unwary. I wonder- I can put it no more strongly than that- I wonder if that fleeting acquaintance might not have been renewed, or an attempt made to do so, if she had not already given him what he hoped to get? At my request she performed the Invocation to Isis for us one evening. (Do not fear, dear Amelia, I made certain she thought it was only for our amus.e.m.e.nt.) Walter could not contain his excitement. He recognized some of the phrases of the song, which he said were from an ancient ritual. And certainly no one could suppose that she learned that dance, or would have been permitted to perform it, at a Christian mission!

So I questioned her, with equal tact, I a.s.sure you, about the young man she called Sir Henry.

He had thick waving black hair, parted down the middle, a cavalry-style mustache, gray or pale-blue eyes and long lashes. He was of medium height and slender build, with a fair complexion and a rather pointed chin and narrow nose.

I know this description is too vague to be of much use (especially since, if my silly idea is right, a disguise might have been employed}. However, I pa.s.s it on to you because another and very alarming thought has occurred to me. This person's failure to pursue the acquaintance with Nefret might stem from the fact that he is no longer in England. Your recent communications have attempted to rea.s.sure us, dear Amelia, but I know you very well, and I sense a formality and stiffness that suggests you are concealing something from us. I would not urge you to greater candor, I appreciate the tender affection that makes you reluctant to add to our concern. (Though I might add, my dear friend and sister, that speculation often conjures up fears far worse than the truth.) Logic also forces upon me the conclusion that if the children have been threatened, you and Radcliffe must be in even greater peril. Pray take care! Curb your courageous propensity to rush headlong into danger! And try to restrain Radcliffe- though I know that is no easy task. Remind him, as I remind you, that there are those to whom your health and safety are as important as their own. Chief among them is.

Your loving sister,

Evelyn.

Tears blurred my vision as I read the last lines. How blessed I was in such affection! And how I had underestimated Evelyn! Ramses's lecture on preconceptions had not been directed at me (at least I trusted it had not), but everything he had written about himself could as well be applied to me. And I, of all people, ought to have known better. Had I not seen Evelyn coolly confront the hideous mummy? Had I not heard her accept an offer that made every nerve quiver with revulsion in the hope that by doing so she could save those she loved? I was as guilty of prejudice against my own s.e.x as the blind, biased men I had condemned.

Evelyn had not said a word about her adventure. Instead she had bent all her efforts on trying to find an answer to the mystery. The a.n.a.lysis was brilliant,- the mind that had composed it was as keen as my own.

Cyrus had been rereading Ramses's letter. Sensitive to every change in my expression, he said gently, "What is it, Amelia? Some bad news Ramses did not mention? I find it difficult to believe he could or would omit anything, but- "

"In that a.s.sumption you are correct. Evelyn is far more considerate of my feelings than is my son." I folded the letter and slipped it into my pocket. Let it rest there, against my heart, to remind me of my good fortune and my shame!"

"I hope you will forgive me for not sharing this with you, Cyrus," I went on. "It was the tender expressions of affection it contains that brought the tears to my eyes."

I was more than ready to follow his advice that I seek my couch, for it had been a tiring day. Never has fatigue prevented me from doing my duty, however. I first inspected my patient, whose condition was unchanged, and then went in search of Bertha. The sooner I could find a suitable establishment for her, the better, it really was a nuisance having to play chaperone as well as perform my other duties.

Somehow I was not surprised to find her sitting by the dying fire, talking with Kevin. Knowing he would be all the more determined to speak to her if I made a mystery of her ident.i.ty, I had simply described her as another victim of the villain who had attacked Emerson. I had expected Kevin would seek her out. No journalist could resist the mysteriously veiled, seductively gliding figure, and victimized women are particularly popular subjects. I could have composed the heading for his story myself, the words "love-slave" would undoubtedly appear. In the private pages of this journal I will admit that I was willing to throw poor Bertha to this Hibernian wolf of the press if her story would distract him from other aspects of the case.

However, there was no reason why I should go out of my way to accommodate Kevin, so I interrupted the discussion and sent Bertha off to bed. "You had better do the same, Kevin. We rise at dawn and it will be a long day."

"Not for me," said Kevin with a lazy smile. "We detectives keep our own hours. Wandering to and fro, questioning this one and that-"

"You will not be wandering. You will be with me, so I can keep my eye on you."

"Ah well, it was worth a try," Kevin murmured. "While I am with you, Mrs.- Miss Peabody, you can tell me all about your daring rescue of the professor. It's bound to come out, you know," he added with a challenging smile. "Even now some of my more enterprising colleagues are interviewing various citizens of Luxor. From what I have heard, you cut rather a wide swath. Wouldn't you rather have the true facts published than the exaggerated fantasies some of my a.s.sociates- "

"Oh, be quiet and go to bed," I snapped.