The Snake, The Crocodile, And The Dog Part 51

Would it were so! But I had my doubts. I had never been able to talk sense into Emerson so easily.

Additional food for thought had been provided by the letters I found waiting. Cyrus's messenger, hearing of our imminent return from the wadi, had delivered them to my room. I postponed the pleasure of reading Ramses's latest epistle until after I had read the others, for I had no reason to suppose it would ease my mind.

A brief note from Howard Carter in Luxor informed me that the town was swarming with journalists who pursued him and our other friends demanding interviews. "I was in the Hypostyle Hall at Karnak yesterday," he wrote, "when a head popped out from behind one of the columns and a voice shouted, 'Is it true, Mr. Carter, that Mrs. Emerson broke two of her umbrellas during the rescue of her husband?'

I shouted back a denial, of course, but prepare yourself, Mrs. E., for the worst excesses of journalistic fiction. I expect, however, you are accustomed to that."

Messages from friends in Cairo reported equally infuriating a.s.saults and even more insulting rumors.

The letter from Sir Evelyn Baring's secretary-to which he had added a solicitous (and obviously bewildered) note in his own hand-held more comfort. It had been impossible to locate in such a short time all the individuals on the list I had sent, but investigations were proceeding, and as I studied the annotations that had been made I began to wonder if my theory might not be in error after all. Those former enemies of ours who had been incarcerated were still in their cells. Ahmet the Louse had turned up in the Thames some months earlier. I was not surprised a user of and dealer in opium does not have a long life expectancy. That left ... I counted . . six. There was no guarantee that all six of them were not on our trail, but the reduction of the numbers gave me an illogical sense of encouragement. It could not be put off any longer. With a sigh, I opened Ramses's letter.

Dearest Mama and Papa, I have come to the conclusion that my talents lie in the intellectual rather than the physical sphere, for the present at least. It is some consolation to realize that my physical inadequacies will improve to some extent through the natural process of time-or to put it in more colloquial terms, when I grow up. I dare not hope I will ever attain the degree of strength and ferocity that distinguishes Papa, however, what natural talents I possess can be increased by constant exercise and the practice of particular skills. I have already begun this regimen and intend to continue it.

An icy chill seized my limbs. I was unable to cherish any delusions concerning the kind of skills Ramses had in mind. Most of them involved the propulsion of sharp or explosive missiles. It was probably just as well that there was no whiskey in the room and that my foot was too sore to enable me to go as far as the saloon. Like Cyrus, I was beginning to understand how an individual can be driven to drink.

I forced myself to go on reading, wondering when, if ever, Ramses would get to the point.

I must confess, since honesty is a virtue Mama has always attempted to instill in me (though there are times when I suspect it does more harm than good), that I was not the sole originator of the scheme which will, I hope, offer a solution to our present difficulties. The inspiration came from an unexpected source. I have encountered several unexpected sources in the past weeks and I hope I have been cured of my preconceptions along that line, though, as I have said, I look forward to discussing this absorbing subject with you at a future date.

But allow me to describe the event in proper order, as Mama would approve.

Thanks to Aunt Evelyn's gentle intervention on my behalf, I was only restricted to my room for twenty-four hours. Once released, I found myself rather at loose ends. The boys, as you know, are at school. Nefret was reading Pride and Prejudice and was quite absorbed in what has always struck me as a rather silly story. The ladies with whom I am acquainted are not at all like the ones in the book. Little Amelia very kindly offered to play Parcheesi with me, but I was not in the mood for juvenile companionship. (Do not fear, Mama, I was very polite. I would not hurt the dear child's feelings for the world.)

Ordinarily I would have gone to the library to pursue my researches into Egyptian grammar, but it seemed the better part of wisdom to stay out of Uncle Walter's way for a while. I therefore proceeded to Aunt Evelyn's sitting room, with the intention of making further inquiries (in the most tactful manner, I need not say) as to why she possessed a large black parasol.

She was not there, but Rose was tidying the room. I offered to help her with the dusting but she declined quite decidedly. She had no objection to engaging in conversation, however.

The exciting events of the last night but one were of course foremost in both our minds. I had already told Rose all about it but she asked to hear it again, so I willingly obliged. (She did not know why Aunt Evelyn had the parasol either, and refused to speculate.) The subject to which she kept returning was the reprehensible behavior of Ellis. She does not get on with Ellis, as I believe I told you. Ellis is quite a lot younger than Rose. She is thinner than Rose too, and has bright-yellow hair. I do not know what, if anything, these facts have to do with Rose not getting on with Ellis. I make note of them only as a matter of information.

"No better than she should be," said Rose with a sniff. "I told Miss Evelyn she wouldn't do.

I know her kind."

"What kind is that?" I inquired.

Before she could answer, supposing she had intended to, Aunt Evelyn entered. She beckoned me to join her on the sofa- which I was happy to do- and took out her embroidery. It gave me a strange feeling to see her sitting there, as neat and quiet as a lady in a painting, when I remembered the fierce warrior maiden of the other night.

"Don't let me interrupt your conversation," she said in her soft voice. "I know you two enjoy talking together I pray go on as if I were not here."

"We were talking about Ellis," I said. "Rose knows her kind. I was endeavoring to discover what kind she meant."

Rose turned very red and began polishing the tea table vigorously.

"Rose, Rose," said Aunt Evelyn gently. "You must not be so uncharitable."

I do not know what it was that emboldened Rose to speak. Usually she just mumbles, "Yes, madam," and shoves the furniture around. I can only attribute her candor on this occasion to one of those premonitions Mama and I, and apparently others, occasionally have.

She was still very red in the face but she spoke up stoutly. "Excuse me, Miss Evelyn, but I think you ought to know. She's always sneaking and prying. I caught her coming out of Master Ramses's room one day. She's no business there, as you know, madam. Master Ramses's room is my job. And what was she doing out of the house at that hour of the night, if I may ask"

It was quite uncanny, Mama and Papa, how it struck all of us at the same moment. We gazed on one another with a wild surmise. Only it was not really wild at all. Aunt Evelyn was the first to speak.

"Master Ramses's room, you said, Rose? What could she have wanted there?"

I struck myself on the brow. (I have read in books of people doing that, but I doubt they really do. Not more than once, at any rate.) "We can hazard a guess, can we not?" I cried. "How long ago did Ellis come to you, Aunt Evelyn?"

The ensuing discussion was most animated, and the conclusions we reached were unanimous.

My chagrin at having overlooked such an obvious culprit was great, but it was I, dear Mama and Papa, who proposed the scheme.

"Let her find what she wants," I exclaimed. "Let her leave us, taking it with her, and without the slightest suspicion that we know her purpose."

Aunt Evelyn and Rose acclaimed this idea with such flattering praise that I was overcome with embarra.s.sment. Even more flattering was their a.s.sumption that I would be able to produce a reasonable facsimile of the doc.u.ment in question for, as you know, dear Mama and Papa, the original is in Papa's . . . [the last two words had been crossed out] ... is elsewhere.

I got to work at once. (Forgery is a fascinating hobby. I have added it to my list of useful skills to be honed with practice.) Feeling that verisimilitude was vital in this case, I used a sheet from one of Papa's notebooks. (The one on the Dahshoor excavation, which I had brought along in order to study his reconstruction of the pyramid temple. There are several points I would like to raise with him at a future time.) But to resume: I had to age the paper properly, of course, this required someexperimentation before I arrived at the solution of baking the paper in the oven after fraying the edges and sprinkling it with water, I then traced a copy of tbe map, whose outlines I had good cause to remember, on another sheet from the notebook, and repeated the process. The result was most satisfactory. I need not tell you, dear parents, that the compa.s.s readings I wrote were not the ones on the original. I made a few other alterations as well.

The next cjuestion was- Where to conceal the doc.u.ment? The library seemed the most likely place, but we agreed it would be expedient to direct Ellis's attention to the precise spot.

Without Rose's enthusiastic cooperation and remarkable tbespian talents the scheme would never have succeeded. The library is, it appears, another of those regions into which Ellis has no reason to go. (I expect you were aware of this, Mama, I was not, and I found the definitions of comparative duties and relative social status dependent thereon quite interesting.) Mary Ann, Aunt Evelyn's parlormaid, is responsible for that room. It was necessary, therefore, to remove Mary Ann, for she has not the sort of temperament that lends itself to deception, and also we felt the fewer people who knew of our intentions, the better.

I had time, before I turned the page, to hope poor Mary Ann had not been removed too forcibly. She was a gentle gray-haired woman who had never done any harm.

The incident of the lion had reduced to shreds, as Mary Ann put it, nerves already frazzled by other events, so it was not difficult to persuade her to take a few days' holiday. (It is not difficult to persuade Mary Ann to do anything.) As soon as she left for the station, Rose fell down the back stairs and sprained her ankle. (She really did not sprain it, Mama and Papa, but the performance she put on was remarkably convincing.) That meant that Ellis had to be pressed into service to carry out some of tbe duties properly belonging to Mary Ann and Rose.

The amiability with which she agreed to take on the task of tidying the library was the final proof of her villainy. According to Rose and Aunt Evelyn, a proper lady's maid would have given notice rather than accept a demeaning task. (Fascinating, is it not? I had no idea such undemocratic att.i.tudes permeate the servants' hall.)

Two more details were necessary: to get Uncle Walter out of the library while Ellis was searching it, and to give her a broad hint as to where to look. Aunt Evelyn a.s.sured us she could manage the first difficulty.

(They were gone the whole afternoon. I do not know what they were doing.) I took it upon myself to arrange the second matter. I daresay my performance would not have convinced Mama, but Ellis is not very intelligent. I allowed her to catch me in the act of reading the papers Uncle Walter keeps in a locked drawer in his desk. The guilty start with which I pretended to notice her, and the baste with which I returned the papers to the drawer, added verisimilitude to my performance. In my hurry to leave the room, I of course forgot to lock the drawer.

I take great pleasure in informing you, Mama and Papa, that our stratagem has succeeded.

Ellis has gone, bag and baggage, and the false doc.u.ment has gone too.

Now, dear Mama and Papa, for the best part of the scheme. (Modesty prevents me from mentioning whose idea it was.) As soon as our plans had been worked out, we made use of that convenient apparatus, the telephone, to reach Inspector Cuff and explain the situation to him.

He pretended not to be surprised. In fact he claimed he had been suspicious of Ellis all along, and that one of the reasons why he had gone to London was to investigate her antecedents. He a.s.sured us that Ellis would be followed from the moment she left the house.

We do not expect a report from the inspector for several days, but I am dispatching this at once so it will reach you as soon as possible for I feel certain that with the doc.u.ment in their possession tbe unknown individuals who have behaved so unpleasantly will cease to trouble us with their attentions. Your devoted son, Ramses.

PS. I am still of the opinion that my place is at your side, for you do seem, dearest parents, to attract dangerous persons. I have now seven pounds seven shillings.

It took me some time to recover from the full effect of this remarkable doc.u.ment. I attribute the confusion that seized me in part to my enfeebled condition, though the contents of the letter were enough to throw anyone into a state of bewildered agitation. What Emerson would say when he discovered his precious excavation notes had been vandalized for purposes of forgery I dared not imagine. Where Ramses had learned to pick locks- another "useful skill," I suppose he would claim- I shuddered to contemplate. (Gargery? Inspector Cuff? Rose??) As for poor Walter, his nerves were probably as frazzled as those of the much-tried Mary Ann, though it was gratifying to learn that Evelyn and he were on such excellent terms.

I put these matters aside in order to concentrate on Ramses's major piece of news. The picture of Rose, Evelyn, and Ramses conspiring to deceive a treacherous lady's maid was so delicious I could almost forgive my wretched child for all his sins, except his ponderous literary style. However, a sobering thought soon intruded. The letter was dated ten days ago. Sethos must have learned of his confederate's success before this, she would have telegraphed immediately, or at least so I supposed. Yet the attacks on us had not ceased. One, possibly two, had occurred after the news could have reached him.

The snake, the crododile and the dog . . . There were no other fates mentioned in the little story. Was he going to start all over again?

Perhaps it was the very absurdity of the notion that cleared my mind. Perhaps it was the hope that Ramses's stratagem would be effective- that the news had not yet reached the Master Criminal. At any rate, I found myself wondering if the parallels with the Egyptian fairy tale were not something more than coincidence or supernatural influence. Could the imitation be deliberate? Had the mind that had conceived the complex plot been influenced by "The Tale of the Doomed Prince"?

A number of people had known I was studying that tale. Mr. Neville's was the first name to come to mind, but he had mentioned it at the dinner table that evening in Cairo. Many of our friends had been present.

Had Sethos been among them?