Crocodile on the Sandbank (16 page)

Authors: Elizabeth Peters

Tags: #Historical fiction, #Detective and mystery stories, #Mystery fiction, #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Historical, #Suspense, #Crime & mystery, #Political, #Women detectives - Egypt, #Peabody, #Amelia (Fictious character), #Crime & Thriller, #Mummies, #Peabody, #Amelia (Fictitious character), #Egyptology, #Cairo (Egypt), #Mystery, #Detective, #Women detectives, #Emerson, #Radcliffe (Fictitious character), #Mystery & Detective - Women Sleuths, #Archaeologists' spouses, #Mystery & Detective - General, #Egypt, #Fiction - Mystery

The idea seemed to revive Emerson. His eyes rolled toward me; I swear,
I saw a flash of enjoyment.
"You won't like it," said Emerson.
"Neither will you," I replied.
I think I prefer not to describe the procedure that followed. Emerson
was not in any mood to make jokes when it was over, but I was the one
who had to sit down on the ground and put my head between my knees.
Fortunately Abdullah had brought water; we both had been thirsty from
the heat and dust even before the accident. A long drink revived me and
helped Emerson. I then tore up my petticoat in order to fasten his arm
to his body so that it would not be jarred unnecessarily. He had his
wicked temper back by then, and made a rude remark.
"As you would say, my lord, it is just like one of Mr. Haggard's
romances. The heroine always sacrifices a petticoat at some point in
the proceedings. No doubt that is why females wear such ridiculous
garments; they do come in useful in emergencies."
The way to the royal tomb had seemed long; the road back was
interminable. Lucas's strength was of great assistance, and Emerson did
not disdain the help of his arm. As we walked along, Lucas explained
how he had happened to find us.
He had had a little adventure of his own. Riding not far from the
village, he had been accosted by the owner of his donkey, who had
abandoned animal and rider when they first approached the camp. Now the
donkey owner demanded his animal back.
"It occurred to me," Lucas explained, "that you had probably been
deprived of donkeys as well as workers, so I determined to keep that
one, if I could. If the villagers had realized I was acquainted with
you, I never should have gotten it in the first place. I offered to buy
the wretched little beast—thinking of Evelyn's using it, of course. But
it was no use; when I insisted, I was set upon by a howling horde of
villagers and forcibly removed from my steed. They offered me no
violence, but I was shaken up and very angry. I was on my way back to
camp when I met Abdullah. He said you had gone to the royal tomb; and
after my adventure, I was somewhat concerned about you. So we came
here— fortunately!"
"You did not see the rockfall, then?" Emerson asked.
"No."
"It couldn't have been an accident," Emerson grunted. "Too fortuitous.
Why that one spot, while we happened to be inside the tomb?"
"We were fortunate that it was not a more extensive landslide," I said,
stumbling into a thornbush.
"Hmmph," said Emerson, trying not to groan.
A mile or two from camp we were met by Walter and Evelyn, who, alarmed
at our prolonged absence, had set out to look for us. Walter went quite
pale when he saw Emerson's faltering steps and bandaged body, but he
knew better than to commiserate.
"It is most unfortunate," he said thoughtfully. "Another accident, just
now, will merely confirm the villagers' superstitions."
"We need not tell them, surely," said Lucas.
"They will know," I said. "I suspect one of them has good reason to
know what has occurred."
"Aha!" Lucas exclaimed. "You think it was no accident?"
He was altogether too pleased about the whole affair. I knew it was
unfair of me to blame him for enjoying the adventure; his acquaintance
with Emerson and Walter was of the slightest, so he could not be
expected to feel for them as Evelyn and I did. And certainly the wild
events of those days would have appealed to the adventurous spirit of
any young gentleman. Nevertheless, his grin annoyed me.
"It was no accident," I said curtly. "This was a foolish expedition.
From now on we must stay in the
camp and close to one another. Perhaps
no real harm was intended— "
"We cannot know that," Walter interrupted. "If the rock had struck my
brother's head instead of his shoulder— "
"But his injury was an unfortunate accident. It was incurred during our
release, not during the rockfall, which could hardly have been designed
to murder us. You knew our destination; you would have searched for us
if we had not returned,
so that even if Abdullah had not happened to go after us, we would not
have been incarcerated long. No; the attempt could not have been at
murder. I believe it was only another harassment."
"And if Peabody says so," remarked Emerson, "that is the Word of the
Prophet."
We finished the journey in cool silence.
However, we had much to be thankful for. Evelyn pointed this out as we
prepared for dinner in our homey tomb. She was not looking well that
evening; I noticed her pallor and sober looks all the more because it
contrasted so strikingly with her appearance during the preceding week.
She had been frightened, weary, and uncomfortable, as we all were; but
under the strain there had been a quiet happiness, a kind of bloom. The
bloom was now gone. And of course I knew the reason.
"Has Lucas been annoying you?" I inquired, with my usual tact.
Evelyn was doing her hair in front of the mirror. Her hands faltered; a
bright lock of golden hair tumbled down her back.
"He asked me again to marry him."
"And you said ...?"
Evelyn turned. The disordered masses of her hair flowed out with the
force of her movement and fell about her shoulders. She had never
looked lovelier, for the nobility of her purpose and the strength of
her emotion transformed her face.
"Amelia, how can you ask? You know my feelings; I have never tried to
conceal them from you, my cherished friend. I cannot marry the man I
love; but I will never be the bride of another."
"You are wrong," I said forcefully. "Walter loves you. I know it; you
must know it. You are being
grossly unjust to him, not to give him the
chance— "
"To know my
shame
— my folly?
Never fear, Amelia; if he should ask me to
marry him, I will tell him
the truth."
"And why do you assume he will recoil? Oh, I agree; you must be candid,
he would hear the story sooner or later, and he would have cause for
resentment at hearing it from another than yourself. But he is a
splendid lad, Evelyn; I like him more with every day that passes. He
would not— "
"He is a man," said Evelyn, in a tone of weary wisdom that would have
made me laugh, had I not been
so distressed for her. "What man could
forget or forgive such a thing in his wife?'
"Bah," I said.
"If I had anything to offer him," Evelyn went on passionately. "The
fortune I once despised would be a godsend to him and his brother. If
only— "
"You don't suppose that splendid boy would refuse you for your misstep
and forgive you for a fortune, do you?" I demanded indignantly.
Evelyn's eyes narrowed.
"Amelia, why do you speak as if you were a hundred years old? Walter is
only a few years younger than you, and you are still in your prime. In
the last week you seem to have drunk from the fountain of youth; you
are looking younger and more attractive every day."
I stared at her in astonishment.
"Come, now, Evelyn, don't let your fondness for me destroy your
aesthetic sense. I have been scoured
by windblown sand, dried out and
burned by the sun, and I have ruined every decent dress I own. Forget
me, and let us settle your problem once and for all. If you would only
listen to me— "
"I honor and love you," she interrupted, in a low voice. "But in this
matter I cannot follow anything but my own conscience."
"But it is such a waste," I lamented "You love this life. Your seeming
fragility conceals a will of iron;
you could be a helpmate as well as a
wife to Walter."
"You are the one who loves this life," Evelyn said, watching me
curiously. "What an archaeologist you would make, Amelia!"
"Hmmm," I said. "That is true. It is most unfortunate that I was not
born a man. Emerson would accept me men as a colleague; my money would
support his work; what a splendid time we would have,
working and
quarreling together. Oh, it is a pity that I am a woman. Emerson would
agree."
"I am not so sure," said Evelyn. There was a faint smile on her lips.
"You are distracting me again," I complained. "You cannot avoid the
issue, Evelyn. Suppose I were to finance—"
"No, Amelia," Evelyn said. I knew that gentle tone. It was as final as
Emerson's growl.
"Then accept Lucas's offer. No, no, I mean his offer of money. Half of
your grandfather's fortune is yours, morally. If you really believe
Walter would accept— "
"Amelia, that is not worthy of you. Could I accept Lucas's generosity
and use it to buy the affection of Lucas's rival?"
"You put things in such a cold-blooded way," I muttered. "It is the
honest way." Evelyn's animation had faded; she was pale and sad. "No,
Amelia. I cannot— will not— marry Lucas, nor will I accept a penny from
him. Are you so anxious to rid yourself of me? I had dared to let
myself envision a life together.... Growing old with you, winding wool
and keeping cats and tending a garden somewhere in the country. We
could be content, could we not? Oh, Amelia, don't cry! I have never
seen you weep; don't do it on my account...."
She threw her arms around me and we clung together, both sobbing
violently. I did not often cry, it is true; I don't know why I was
crying then, but I found it soothing to do so. So I let myself go,
wallowing in the luxuriance of openly expressed emotion, and Evelyn
made me cry even harder by the fond expressions she choked out. "I do
love you, Amelia; you are dearer to me than any sister. Your kindness,
your sense of humor, your saintly temper..."
The last phrase appealed too strongly to the sense of humor she had
just mentioned; I stopped crying
and began to laugh feebly.
"Dearest Evelyn, I have a temper like a fiend's, and the disposition of
a balky mule. How beautiful is friendship, that it blinds one to the
friend's true nature! Well, child, don't cry anymore; I know why you
weep, and it is not because of my saintly nature. I suppose the
Almighty will order our lives as He sees fit, and there is no reason
for us to worry. I have not altogether decided to accept His decrees;
but whatever happens, you and I will not part until I can give you up
to a man who deserves you. Here, wipe your eyes, and then give me the
handkerchief so I can wipe mine. I did not expect to need more than one
handkerchief this evening.
We mopped our wet faces and went on with our dressing. Evelyn had one
more comment to make.
"You speak as if I would be the one to leave you. Will you keep me on,
Amelia, to wind wool and wash lapdogs, after you are married?"
"That is the most ridiculous remark you have made as yet," I said. "And
many of your remarks have
been extremely silly."

WHEN WE came out of the tomb, wearing fresh garments and rather red
eyes, we found the men assembled. Lucas had brought enough articles to
stock a shop; there were flowers on the table, and a glittering array
of silverware and crystal. The look on Emerson's face as he
contemplated the elegantly
set table was almost enough to compensate for
the absurdity of the business.
Lucas was attired in a fresh suit, spotless and expensively tailored.
He sprang to his feet when we appeared and held a chair for Evelyn.
Walter held one for me. Lucas offered us sherry. He behaved as
if he
were the host. Emerson, who was now staring at the toes of his
deplorable boots, said nothing. His arm was still strapped to his side,
and I concluded that he felt too ill to be as objectionable as he
usually was.
"Such elegance," I commented, as Lucas handed me a delicate goblet. "We
are not accustomed to luxury here, your lordship."
"I see no reason for depriving oneself of the amenities," Lucas
replied, smiling. "If ascetisism is necessary, I venture to say that
you will find me ready to accept the most stringent measures; but while
Amontillado and crystal are available, I will
make use of them."
He lifted his own glass in a mock salute. It did not contain
Amontillado, although the liquid was almost as dark a shade of amber.
My father never drank spirits, but my brothers were not so abstentious.
I looked critically at the glass, and remarked, "Do you think it wise
to imbibe? We must be on the
qui vive
tonight. Or have you abandoned
your intention of lying in wait for our visitor?"
"Not at all! I have a strong head, Miss Amelia, and a little whiskey
only makes my senses more acute."
"That is the common delusion of the drinker," said Walter, His tone was
offensive. Lucas smiled at him.
"We are appreciative of your luxuries, Lucas," Evelyn said. "But they
really are not necessary. How heavily laden your dahabeeyah must be!"
'It would have been more heavily laden if I had had my way," Lucas
replied. "Your boxes have arrived
in Cairo, Evelyn. I intended to bring them along; but that old
curmudgeon, Baring, refused to hand them over."
"Indeed?" I said. "He was an acquaintance of my father's."
"I am well aware of that. You should be complimented, Miss Amelia, that
the new master of Egypt has taken the trouble to look after your
affairs personally. The boxes were sent to you, since it was your
address the Roman consul had for Evelyn. Baring took charge of them in
Cairo and guards them like the dictator he is. I explained my
relationship to Evelyn, but he was an adamant."
"Perhaps your reputation has preceded you," I said mildly.
It was impossible to offend Lucas. He laughed heartily.
"Oh, it has. I went to university with a young relative of Baring's. I
am afraid certain— er— escapades reached the distinguished gentleman's
ears."
"It does not matter," Evelyn said. "I am grateful for your efforts,
Lucas, but I need nothing more than I have."
"You need nothing except yourself," Lucas said warmly. "That is
treasure enough. But your needs and your desserts are two different
things. One day, Evelyn, you will be persuaded to accept what you
deserve; although all the treasure houses of the pharaohs could not
hold its real value."
Evelyn flushed and was silent; she was too gentle to reproach him for
his remarks, which were, to say
the least, out of place at that time
and in that company. I felt quite exasperated with the girl; could she
not see that her response to Lucas's florid compliments only inflamed
poor Walter's jealousy? With a lover's excessive sensibility he
misinterpreted every blush, every glance.
Emerson removed his gaze from the toes of his boots and glowered at me.
"Are we to sit here all evening exchanging compliments? No doubt you
have planned the evening's entertainment, Peabody; enlighten us as to
what we must do."
"I had not given the matter much thought."
"Really? And why not?"
I had found that the surest way of annoying Emerson was to ignore his
provocative remarks and reply
as if he had spoken in ordinary courteous
exchange.
"I was thinking of the royal tomb," I explained. "Of the relief of the
little princess and her grieving
parents. Evelyn should copy it. She
would do it beautifully."
"I am surprised at the suggestion," Lucas exclaimed. "After what
happened today— "
"Oh, I don't mean she should do it now; but one day, when the situation
has been cleared up. Since your connection with Evelyn has been so
distant, Lucas, you may not know that she is a splendid artist. She has
already done a painting of the pavement that was destroyed."
Lucas insisted on seeing this painting and exclaimed over it quite
excessively. The conversation having turned to matters archaeological,
he was reminded of the papyrus scroll he had mentioned.
"I had the bearers fetch it," he said, reaching into the box at his
side. "Here you are, Mr. Emerson. I said
I would hand it over,
and I keep my word."
The papyrus was enclosed in a carved and colored wooden case, except
for a single section—the one Lucas had unrolled.
"I put it between two squares of glass," he explained. "That seemed the
best method of keeping it from crumbling any further."
"At least you had that much sense," Emerson grumbled. "Hand it to
Walter, if you please, your lordship.
I might drop it, having only one
good hand."
Walter took the framed section, as gently as if it had been a baby, on
the palms of his two hands. The
sun was setting, but tiiere was still
ample light. As Walter bent over the sheet of papyrus, a lock of hair
tumbled down over his brow. His lips moved as if in silent prayer. He
seemed to have forgotten our presence.
I leaned forward to see better. The papyrus seemed to me to be in
fairly good condition, compared with others I had seen in antiquities
shops. It was brown with age and the edges were crumbling, but the
black, inky writing stood out clearly on the whole. An occasional word
was written in red, which had not fared so well; it had faded to a
rusty brown. Of course I had no notion whatsoever what the writing
said. It resembled the hieroglyphic writing; one could distinguish the
shape of an occasional bird or squatting figure, each of which
represented a letter in the ancient picture alphabet of the Egyptians.
But the majority of the letters were abbreviated forms and resembled a
written script such as Arabic more than it resembled hieroglyphic
writing.
"It is splendid hieratic," said Emerson, who was leaning over his
brother's shoulder. "Much closer to the hieroglyphs than some I have
seen. Can you make it out, Walter?"
"You don't mean that Master Walter can read that scribble?" Lucas
exclaimed.
"Master Walter," said his brother drily, "is one of the world's leading
experts on the ancient language.
I know a bit, but I am
primarily an excavator. Walter has specialized in philology. Well,
Walter?"
"Your partiality makes you praise me too highly," Walter said, his eyes
greedily devouring the crabbed script. "I must show this to Frank
Griffith; he is with Petrie at Naucratis this season, and unless I miss
my guess, he is going to be one of our leading scholars. However, I
believe I can make out a few lines. You are right, Radcliffe; it is
splendid hieratic. That," he explained to the rest of us, "was the
cursive script used on documents and records. The hieroglyphic signs
were too ornate and cumbersome for the scribes of a busy kingdom. The
hieratic was developed from the hieroglyphic, and if you look closely,
you will see how the signs resemble the original pictures."
"I see!" Evelyn burst out. We were all bending over the papyrus now,
except Lucas, who sipped his whiskey and watched us all with his
patronizing smile. "Surely that is an owl— the letter 'm.' And the
following word much resembles the seated man, which is the pronoun 'I.'"
"Quite right, quite right." Walter was delighted. "Here is the word for
'sister.' In ancient Egyptian that might mean----- " His voice
faltered.
Evelyn, sensitive to the slightest change in his feelings, quietly
returned to her chair.
"Sister and brother were terms of endearment," said Emerson, finishing
the sentence his brother had begun. "A lover spoke of his sweetheart as
his sister."
"And this," said Walter in a low voice, "is a love poem."
"Splendid," exclaimed Lucas. "Read it to us, Master Walter, if you
please."
Lucas had insisted that we be informal; but his address of Walter by
the childish title was certainly meant to provoke. On this occasion it
had no effect; Walter was too absorbed in his studies.
"I can only make out a few lines," he said. "You ought not to have
unrolled it, Lord Ellesmere; the break goes through part of the text.
However, this section reads:

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