Amelia Peabody Omnibus 1-4 (27 page)

Evelyn sat like a pale statue, unresponsive to the jeers or to the increasingly soft glances her cousin directed at her. She had not dressed for dinner, but was wearing a simple morning frock, a faded pink lawn sprigged with tiny rosebuds.

Lucas kept looking at the gown; finally he burst out, ‘I don’t mean to criticize your choice of costume, Cousin, but I yearn to see you in something becoming your beauty and your station. Since that first night in Cairo I have not seen you wear a gown that suited you. What a pity I could not bring your boxes with me!’

‘You are too conscientious, Lucas,’ Evelyn replied. ‘It may relieve you to know that I am not looking forward to unpacking those boxes. I shall never wear the gowns again; their elegance would remind me too painfully of Grandfather’s generosity.’

‘When we return to Cairo we will burn them unopened,’ Lucas declared extravagantly. ‘A grand auto-da-fé of the past! I want to supply you with a wardrobe fitting your station, my dear Evelyn – with garments that will have no painful memories associated with them.’

Evelyn smiled, but her eyes were sad.

‘I
have
the wardrobe befitting my station,’ she replied, with a loving glance at me. ‘But we cannot destroy the past, Lucas, nor yield to weakness. No; fortified by my faith as a Christian, I will look over Grandfather’s gifts in solitude. There are trinkets, mementos I cannot part with; I will keep them to remind me of my errors. Not in any spirit of self-flagellation,’ she added, with another affectionate look at me. ‘I have too much to be thankful for to indulge in that error.’

‘Spoken like an Englishwoman and a Christian,’ I exclaimed. ‘But indeed, I have difficulty in hearing you speak, Evelyn; what is going on down below? The men are making a great deal of noise.’

I spoke in part to change a subject that was clearly painful to Evelyn, but I was right; for some time the soft murmur of voices from the deck below had been gradually increasing in volume. The sound was not angry or alarming; there was considerable laughter and some unorganized singing.

Lucas smiled. ‘They are celebrating your return. I ordered a ration of whiskey to be served out. A few of them refused on religious grounds; but the majority seem willing to forget the admonitions of the Prophet for one night. Moslems are very much like Christians in some ways.’

‘You ought not to have done that,’ I said severely. ‘We ought to strengthen the principles of these poor people, not corrupt them with our civilized vices.’

‘There is nothing vicious about a glass of wine,’ Lucas protested.

‘Well, you have had enough,’ I said, removing the bottle as he reached for it. ‘Kindly recall, my lord, that our friends at the camp are still in danger. If we should receive a distress signal in the night – ’

Evelyn let out a cry of alarm, and Lucas glared at me.

‘Your friend Emerson would not call for help if he were being burned at the stake,’ he said, with a sneer that robbed the statement of any complimentary effect. ‘Why do you frighten Evelyn unnecessarily?’

‘I am not frightened,’ Evelyn said. ‘And I agree with Amelia. Please, Lucas, don’t drink any more.’

‘Your slightest wish is my command,’ said Lucas softly.

But I feared the request had come too late. Lucas had already taken more than was good for him.

Soon after this Evelyn pleaded fatigue and suggested that I too retire, in order to build up my strength. The reminder came at an opportune time, for I had forgotten I was supposed to be ailing. I sent her to her cabin and then called the reis; the noise from below was now so great that I was afraid Evelyn would not be able to sleep. Hassan, at least, showed no signs of inebriation, but I had a hard time communicating with him, for, of course, he spoke very little English. How I missed our devoted Michael! Eventually I got the reis to understand that we were retiring, and we wished the noise kept down. He bowed and retired; shortly thereafter the voices did drop in tone.

Lucas had been sitting in sullen silence, staring at the wine bottle, which was at my elbow. I was of two minds as to whether to carry it with me when I retired. I decided against it. Lucas probably had plenty more.

As I rose, he jumped up and held my chair.

‘Excuse my bad manners, Miss Amelia,’ he said quietly. ‘But indeed, I am not at all drunk. I merely wanted to convey that impression.’

‘It seems to be a favourite plan of yours,’ I said drily, walking toward the stairs. Lucas followed me.

‘I am sleeping in one of the cabins below,’ he said, in the same soft voice. ‘I will be awake and ready in case I am needed.’

Now I had said nothing to Lucas of my conversation with Emerson the preceding night. Emerson had not needed to caution me against it; I had no particular confidence in Lucas myself. His comment meant that, independently, he had arrived at the same conclusion we had reached, and this fact both alarmed and interested me.

‘I trust I will not need you,’ I replied.

We descended the narrow stairs and went into the cabin area. Lucas took my arm and brought me to a halt.

‘This is the cabin I am occupying,’ he whispered. ‘Will you wait a moment, Miss Amelia? I want to show you something.’

I waited in the dark corridor while he stepped into the cabin. He was back in a moment, carrying a long object, like a stick. I peered through the gloom before I was able to identify it; and then I started to expostulate.

‘Never fear,’ said Lucas, holding up the rifle – for such it was. ‘It is not loaded. I would not make that mistake again.’

‘Then why carry it?’

‘Sssh!’ Lucas put a finger to his lips. ‘Only you and I know it is not loaded. Perhaps the mummy has reason not to fear a small calibre handgun, but he will not be so nonchalant about a shell from an express that can bring down a charging elephant. And if all else fails, it makes an admirable club!’

He raised the rifle above his head.

‘I think it is a foolish idea,’ I snapped. ‘But if you are determined on it … Good night, Lucas.’

I left him brandishing the weapon, an idiotic grin on his face

Ordinarily Evelyn and I occupied separate cabins, but I had no intention of leaving her alone that night. I feigned a return of weakness, in order to persuade her to share my room without alarming her, and she helped me into bed with sweet solicitude. She soon joined me. Darkness fell as she blew out the lamp, and before long her soft, regular breathing told me that fatigue had overcome the anxieties that still distressed her.

I did not sleep but I found it more difficult than I had expected to overcome Morpheus. I had taken only a single glass of wine, despite Lucas’s attempts to induce me to drink more. Ordinarily such a small amount does not affect me in the slightest, but as the minutes went on and the voices of the crewmen faded into silence, I fought sleep as if it had been a bitter enemy. Finally I arose – with care, so as not to waken Evelyn – and went into the adjoining cubicle, which served as our bathroom, where I splashed water on my face and even slapped it as vigorously as I dared. I was finally driven to pinching myself; and a foolish figure I would have made, if anyone had been there to see – standing bolt upright in the centre of the room, applying my nails to the flesh of my arm at regular intervals.

The night was very silent. The men were asleep, I assumed. The soft night sounds of the Nile were as soothing as a lullaby. My knees kept bending, and I kept jerking myself erect. I had no idea how much time had passed. It seemed like hours.

At last, feeling slightly more alert, I went back into the sleeping chamber and approached the window. It was not the porthole sort of window one finds on regular sailing ships, but a wide aperture, open to the air but covered by a curtain in order to keep out the light. It opened onto the lower deck, not quite level with the flooring, but easily reached from it. I knew that if danger should approach, it must come this way. Our door was locked and bolted securely, but there was no way of locking the window without shutting out the air and making the room too stifling for comfortable sleep.

My hand went to the window frame all the same. After some internal debate I decided to leave it open. The increasingly stuffy air might waken Evelyn, and the window creaked as I remembered from before. Instead I drew the curtain back just enough to see out, and remained standing, my elbows on the sill, my hands propping my drowsy head.

I could see a section of the deck from where I stood, and beyond it the silvered reaches of the river, with the night sky overhead. The moon’s rays were so bright I could make out details like the nails in the planking. Nothing moved, except the rippling silver of the water.

How long I stood there I cannot calculate. I fell into a kind of waking doze, erect, but not wholly conscious. Finally I became aware of something moving along the deck to my right.

Lucas’s cabin was in that direction, but I knew it was not Lucas. I knew what it was. Had I not expected it?

It kept to the shadows, but I made out the now familiar pale shape of it easily enough. I cannot explain why, but on this occasion I felt none of the superstitious terror that had paralysed me on its earlier visits. Perhaps it was the skulking surreptitious movement of the thing; perhaps it was the familiarity of the surroundings. In any case, I began to feel enormous exasperation. Really, the mummy was becoming ridiculous! Its repertoire was so limited; why didn’t it do something different, instead of creeping around waving its arms?

I was no longer sleepy, and I calculated, quite coolly, what I should do. How I would crow over Emerson if, single-handedly, I could capture our mysterious adversary! I quite forgot his admonitions. I would not be satisfied with driving the mummy away, as we had planned; no, I must catch it!

The only question was: Should I call for help, or should I attack the creature myself? I was reluctant to follow the former course. The crewmen were at the far end of the deck and were, no doubt, sleeping off their unaccustomed debauch so heavily that a cry would not waken them in time to prevent the creature’s escape. As for Lucas, I did not doubt that he was snoring heavily. No, I thought; I would wait, to see what the mummy did. If it tried to enter our room through the window – then I had it! My right hand already clasped the handle of the pitcher, which, filled with water, stood beside the bed. It was a heavy earthenware jug and would raise a good lump on the head of anything it struck.

As I debated with myself, the mummy stepped out into the moonlight. It had to do so, in order to reach our room; and as it did, my feelings underwent a sudden alteration. It was so large! It seemed bigger than a grown man, and although I told myself that the appearance of gigantism was the result of the bulky bandaging, my nerves were not quite convinced. Would the jug be sufficient to render the thing unconscious? I had forgotten that its head was padded. Suppose I struck and failed? I have considerable faith in my powers, but I was not mad enough to suppose that I could engage in hand-to-hand struggle with a creature of that size and come out victorious. Even if it were a mere man, and not a monster endowed with supernatural strength, it could overcome me; and then…. Evelyn lay sleeping and helpless in the bed. No – no, I could not risk that. I must wake her, better that she should be frightened than – the unspeakable alternative. I must call; better that the thing should escape than …

I drew a deep breath.

‘Lucas! Lucas!’ I shrieked. ‘
A moi
, Lucas! Help!’

I cannot imagine why I shouted in French. It was a dramatic moment.

To my taut nerves the results of my cry seemed long in coming. The mummy stopped its stealthy advance. I had the decided impression that it was surprised to hear my voice. Behind me, Evelyn stirred and began to mutter sleepily. And then, with a loud thump and crash, Lucas jumped through the window of the next cabin onto the deck.

Even in that moment of danger I was glad Evelyn could not see him as he rushed to her rescue. He was fully dressed, but his shirt collar was open and his sleeves were rolled up, displaying muscular, rather hairy arms. His face was set in an expression of grim resolve; his right hand clasped the rifle. He was a sight to thrill any romantic girl; I felt a mild thrill myself as he threw the rifle to his shoulder and aimed it at the gruesome form that confronted him.

‘Stop,’ he ordered, in a low but compelling voice. ‘Do not take another step, or I fire! D— it,’ he added vexedly, ‘does the monstrosity understand English? How absurd this is!’

‘It understands the gesture, at least,’ I called, thrusting head and shoulders through the window. ‘Lucas, for pity’s sake, seize it! Don’t stand there deriding its linguistic inadequacies!’

The mummy’s head swung around until the featureless face looked directly at me. Oh, yes, it could see; I swear I caught a flash of eyes amid the darkness under its brows. It raised its arms and began to emit the mewing, growling cry that seemed to characterize its angry moods.

Evelyn was awake and calling out. I heard the bedsprings creak as she tried to rise.

‘Stay where you are, Evelyn,’ I ordered. ‘Don’t move. Lucas’ – I disliked giving him the credit, but honesty demanded I should – ‘Lucas and I have the situation under control.’

‘What do I do now?’ Lucas asked, addressing me. ‘It does not seem to understand me; and you know, Miss Amelia – ’

‘Strike it on the head,’ I shouted. ‘Rush at it and strike! Good Gad, why are you standing there? I will do it myself!’

I started to climb through the window. Evelyn had disregarded my orders; she was standing behind me, and as I essayed to move she caught me around the waist, crying out in alarm. Lucas was grinning broadly; the man had no sense of the proprieties. His smile did not endure, however. As I struggled with Evelyn, the mummy moved. It lowered its arms; then one, the right arm, shot out with the force of a man throwing some object. Nothing left its hand. It did not step forward. But Lucas’s body jerked violently. The rifle fell, as if his arms had suddenly lost their strength; it struck the deck with a metallic clatter, and Lucas fell upon it, face downward.