Crocodile on the Sandbank (24 page)
Read Crocodile on the Sandbank Online
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
"Now tell me what is wrong," I said, recapping the bottle. "What is it
you fear will happen? If your reasoning is correct—"
"My reasoning was damnably, stupidly, fatally wrong," Emerson replied
forcibly. "I am missing a vital clue— a piece of information that would
make sense of the whole business. I suspect you hold that clue,
Peabody. You must tell me— "
He stopped speaking; I suppose the expression on my face struck him
dumb. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rising. I was facing the
lower end of the path; and there, barely visible, around the corner of
the cliff, something moved. A low moan echoed through the air.
Emerson spun around. The moaning cry came again.
It was a frightening sound, but I knew, after the first moment, that it
did not come from the throat of
the Mummy. This cry held human anguish
and pain; I could not have resisted its appeal if a thousand gibbering,
gesticulating Mummies had stood in my way.
Quickly as I moved, Emerson was before me. He went more cautiously than
I would have done, his arm holding me back, and when we reached the
bottom of the path he thrust me away while he went on to investigate.
The object I had seen, whatever it was, had disappeared from sight;
Emerson followed it into invisibility, and for a moment I held my
breath. Then I heard his low exclamation— not of fear, but of horror
and
distress. Rounding the rock corner, I saw him kneeling on the ground
beside the prostrate
body of a man. I knew the man, although, God
forgive me, I had almost forgotten him. It was our vanished servant—
the
dragoman, Michael. "Oh, heavens," I cried, flinging myself down beside
the
recumbent form. "Is he dead?"
"Not yet. But I fear..." Emerson raised
his hand, which had been resting on the back of Michael's head. The
stains on his fingers looked like ink in
the moonlight.
Michael was wearing the same faded blue-and-white-striped robe that he
had worn the day of his disappearance. It was now torn and crumpled. I
reached for his wrist, to feel his pulse, but a closer
sight of his
outflung arm made me exclaim aloud. The bared wrist was swollen and
bloody.
"He has been a prisoner," I said, forcing my fingers to touch the torn
flesh. "These are the marks of ropes."
"They are. How is his pulse?"
"Steady, but feeble. He must have medical attention at once. I will do
what I can, but my skill is so small— Can we carry him up to the tomb?
Perhaps Lucas will help."
"I can manage."
Emerson turned Michael over; with a single heave of his broad shoulders
he lifted the dragoman's slight form into his arms, and rose.
And then— dear Heaven, I can scarcely write of it now without a
reminiscent shudder. Screams— the high, agonized shriek of a woman in
the extremity of terror! They died in a long, wailing moan.
Emerson bounded forward, carrying the unconscious man as if he weighed
no more than a feather. I followed; and as we came around the corner of
the cliff, the whole hideous tableau burst upon our eyes, like a scene
from the worst conceptions of Madame Tussaud.
On the ledge above us stood the Mummy. The blind, bandaged head was
turned toward us; one stubby leg was lifted, as if our sudden
appearance had stopped it in midstep. To the crumbling, rotting
bandages of its breast, the horror clasped me unconscious form of
Evelyn.
Her tumbled golden curls hung down over its arm; her little white feet
peeped pathetically out of the folds of her nightdress. After the first
scream of terror she bad fainted dead away, as any girl might, finding
herself in the arms of such a suitor. I began pounding on Emerson's
back. He was barring the entrance
to the narrow path, and I was frantic to pass him and attack
the thing. I remembered poor Evelyn's exclamation on that far-off day,
when a ghoulish peddler had tried to sell us a mummified hand. She
would die, she said, if the withered flesh should touch her.... Well,
we had it trapped now. If it had supernatural powers, it would need
them all to escape me.
The passage of time seemed to halt; I felt like one trapped in
quicksand, or the slow, floating motion of
a dream, where enormous
effort is required to make the slightest movement. Then all sorts of
things happened at once.
Lucas came out of the tent, which was not far from us. I assumed he had
been asleep, had been wakened by Evelyn's screams, and, his senses
dulled by wine, had been slow to respond. He took in the situation
at a
glance, and moved more quickly than I would have expected. In his
haste, he collided with us. Emerson kept his feet with difficulty,
falling back against the cliff face with the body of the dying man
still in his arms; I was thrown to the ground. While we were tumbling
about, the Mummy took advantage of our confusion. Flexing its stiff
knees, the creature jumped—actually leaped from the ledge. Such was my
state of mind, I half expected to see it take wing and soar through the
air like a giant bat. Alighting, still erect, amid the tumble of rocks
at the base of the cliff, it scrambled down the slope and ran. Evelyn's
fair hair streamed out behind.
"Pursue it!" I shrieked. "Do not let it escape!"
At least that is what I believe I shrieked. Emerson informs me that my
language was less coherent, and
so inflammatory that he positively
blushed, despite the urgency of the moment. He, of course, was in a
dreadful predicament; encumbered by the injured man, he could hardly
fling him to the ground. I was so entangled in the abominable garments
forced on women by the decrees of fashion that I could not arise.
It
all depended on Lucas; and after the first confused moments, he rose to
the occasion.
"Never fear," he cried, leaping up. "It will not escape me! Remain
here— we must not all abandon the camp— I will rescue Evelyn — "
Running fleetly, he was already several yards away as his last words
reached my ears.
An echoing cry came from above. Looking up, I saw Walter, who had just
emerged from his sleeping chamber. If he had been drugged, the vision
before his eyes woke him with a vengeance; with another shout of
mingled rage and horror, he flung himself down the slope and followed
Lucas.
As I started after them, Emerson kicked me in the shin. I must confess
he could not have stopped me
in any other way, since his arms were
occupied.
"This is madness," he groaned. "Keep your head, Peabody; someone must
act sensibly— follow me,
you must remain with Michael."
The advice was excellent; the difficulty was in following it. The folly
of pursuit was manifest; if the
young men could not catch up with the
mummified miscreant, it was futile for a woman, hampered by
her skirts,
to try and do so. I could still see the pale shape of the Mummy, as it
flitted in and out among the rocks. Walter stumbled along behind,
waving his arms and shouting. All this happened, of course, in far less
time than it takes to write it down.
I ran after Emerson, who was ascending the path in great leaps. If I
was not wringing my hands, it was because I needed them to keep my
balance. Emerson was correct; it was necessary for one of us to tend
Michael's wounds, but I really did not see how I could bear to remain
there, in ignorance and forced inactivity.
Emerson laid his burden gently upon his couch. To do him justice, he
had not wasted a moment, nor did he waste time now in unnecessary
directions to me. Instantly he turned back to the entrance. I reached
for the lamp, meaning to light it. As I did so, there came a crack and
a whine from without. Emerson's
tall form, silhouetted in the doorway,
staggered and fell.
recognized the sound as that of
a bullet. I dropped the lamp; I forgot
my injured servant; for an instant I even forgot Evelyn and her deadly
peril. I started toward the spot where I had seen Emerson fall.
My heart had not missed more than a few beats, however, when a hand
caught my ankle and brought
me crashing to the ground. I fell on top of
Emerson, and heard his grunt with pain. My hands, fumbling
at his face,
encountered a wet, sticky flow.
"You are wounded," I exclaimed. "My God, Emerson— "
Emerson sneezed.
"I beg that you will leave off tickling me," he said irritably. "The
region around the chin and jaw is particularly sensitive. For God's
sake, Peabody, stop sniveling; it is only a cut from a bit of flying
rock."
"Oh," I said. "But the shot was aimed at you! In heaven's name, what
are you doing now? Don't go
out there— "
He was crawling toward the entrance.
"The shot was meant as a warning," he said over his shoulder. "We are
safe enough— for the moment— unless we try to leave the tomb. Hand me
that
shut of Walter's, if you please— it is lying
across his bed— and my walking stick. Thank you.
Now let us see— "
A second shot rewarded his demonstration when he draped the shirt over
the stick and extended it out
the doorway. Emerson withdrew it. "He is
there, among the rocks," he said calmly.
"He? Who?"
"You sound like one of the villagers' donkeys," said Emerson. "Who else
could it be? You must have deduced his identity by now. I have known it
for some time; but his motive still eludes me. What the
devil ails the
fellow, to seek to win a wife by such means? I would not have thought
him capable of the insane passion that prompts such acts."
Once— even a few hours earlier— his calm, drawling voice would have
driven me wild. Now I was seized by the same icy calm. We had already
delayed too long; even if we could escape from this
ambush uninjured,
Evelyn and her abductor would be out of sight. It was up to Walter now.
At least he had only one enemy to face. The other was below, with rifle
in his hands.
"There is motive," I said. "I am only now beginning to see.... No, no,
it is impossible. From the first I
too suspected Lucas. But he was not
here. He did not arrive until long after we did, long after the Mummy
made its first appearance. He did not know we would stop here—"
"I think it is high time we compared notes," said Emerson, recumbent
before the entrance. "You might give Michael a little water, Peabody; I
fear that is all we can do for the poor fellow now, since we dare not
strike a light, and your medical supplies are in your sleeping chamber.
Then come here and join me."
I did what I could for Michael. It was little enough. He was still
breathing, but that was about all I could say. I then crawled to the
entrance and lay down flat, next to Emerson, who was peering out across
the moonlit plain, his chin propped on his folded arms. "You and I have
been at cross purposes since we met,
Peabody," he said. "It is a pity; for we might have prevented this
unfortunate business if we had taken
the trouble to be civil to one
another. You see, I have known for some days that his lordship has been
lying. Reis Hassan talked to the reis of the
Cleopatra
, and passed some
of the gossip on to me. His lordship's payments to his crew have been
princely. By means of exorbitant bribes, he got underway the very day
after you left. He was moored downriver, at Minieh, the day you landed
here.
"But that is not the important thing. His lordship has a
confederate— not
a hired native, but a man as dedicated to evil as he is. That
confederate is the man who is playing the role of the Mummy. This man's
whereabouts, prior to his public appearance here, are unknown. I
believe he came here some time ago and set the scene for the
drama— bribing Mohammed, introducing the mummy Walter found into an
empty tomb. His costume, his role were planned well in advance—
probably
in Cairo, where, I imagine, young Lord Ellesmere arrived earlier than
he led you to believe. Do you have an idea who this confederate might
be?"
"No. Lucas must have bribed him well. Of course it could be a friend of
Lucas's— one of his companions in vice. I do not know them. But,
Emerson, there is one great flaw in your argument. How could they know
where to set the scene? We did not plan to stop here — "
"Then Reis Hassan is a liar. He informs me that you laid out your
itinerary while still in Cairo, and that
he tried several times to
dissuade you from it."
"Oh, that. I did mention the possibility of visiting Amarna— along with
a
number of other sites. But how could Lucas know?"
"From Michael, I imagine. Did he have an opportunity to speak with him
before you left Cairo?"
"He did indeed," I said grimly. "And to think that we introduced them,
so that Michael might assist
Lucas in the selection of a
dragoman ----- Good God, what a fool I was!"
"You had no reason to suspect any danger. Nor did Michael. His lordship
was your friend, Evelyn's relation. It was not
until developments here became serious that Michael began to wonder
about his harmless indiscretion. He is an intelligent man, and devoted
to you body and soul; on the day of his disappearance he asked to speak
to you alone — "
"And Lucas heard him! He struck him down and spirited him away."
"Not Lucas, but one of his men. He kept the poor fellow prisoner in one
of the caves that are so common in these cliffs, and when we
obstinately refused to succumb to the laudanum he had placed in our
wine, he carried Michael here to distract us while his confederate
reached Evelyn.
"I must admit that the fellow has imagination; he acts brilliantly and
unhesitatingly in emergencies, and makes good use of any fortuitous
circumstances that can be turned to account. My illness was one such
lucky accident— lucky for him— but I feel sure he and his confederate
had
planned some means of detaining you here— damage to the dahabeeyah, or
to one of us. At that point in time, his lordship had not determined to
commit murder. He hoped to attain his ends by less drastic means,
although it seems clear he prepared for the worst, in case it should
become necessary. And I was misled. Not until you
were attacked this
afternoon did I fully realize that Evelyn was the real object of the
attentions we have been receiving, and even then I was fool enough to
suppose that once she had accepted Walter, his lordship would give up
his idiotic and dangerous games."
Emerson extended his stick once again out the entrance. Another shot
rang out, followed by the splintering of rock.
"Still there," he said. "I wonder how long he means to keep us here. We
are safe so long as we do not confront him. He will have some specious
excuse to explain why he failed to rescue Evelyn; I think the fellow is
actually vain enough to suppose he can get away with it. Shall we save
our skins, Peabody,
and sit still?"
"While Evelyn is in the clutches of that monster?" I demanded. "Don't
bait me, Emerson; you have no more intention of
accepting this than I do. Do you think Walter— "
"I am extremely concerned about Walter," said Emerson; I knew him well
enough now to hear the controlled agony under his calm tones. "But at
the moment we can do nothing to help him or Evelyn until we understand
what is behind this affair. There is some more desperate motive behind
his lordship's acts than frustrated love. Think, Peabody; if you have
ever used your brain, now is the time."
"I have a faint inkling of the truth," I said, in a stifled voice. "I
hate to contemplate it; for if I am right
----- Emerson, you and I have behaved like fools. If I had known what
you
knew about Lucas's movements; and if you had known what I am about to
tell you — "
"Speak, then. That is the trouble with women, even the best of them,"
Emerson added. "They will
indulge in vain cries of 'if only' and 'had I
but known.'"
"The criticism is justified," I said; my pride was thoroughly leveled
by the magnitude of the disaster. "Listen, men, while I narrate
Evelyn's story."
He listened. Only his eyes moved, so intent was he on what I had to say.
"Yes," he said, when I finished. "The clue is there, somewhere. A vast
amount of money may be an inducement to violence. But how? I cannot see
it, even now. Is it possible that his lordship lied to you about the
old man's death? If he still lives, and contemplates restoring Evelyn
as his heiress — "
"No, he is dead; one of my acquaintances in Cairo knew of it."
Emerson struck his fist against the floor.
"The conclusion is inescapable, Peabody; in some way we do not
comprehend, Evelyn must have control of the fortune his lordship so
ardently desires. He has done everything a man could do to induce her
to become bis wife. I believed his sole motive was passionate love of
his cousin. But in this day and age an English girl cannot be forced
into marriage, and a forced marriage is the only kind that could come
out of this
night's work. Nothing the wretch could do now would induce Evelyn to
marry him of her own free will. No; it is the lady's money that is
being sought, not the lady's person. If we only knew how — "
"I believe I do know," I interrupted. "I told you that before the late
Lord Ellesmere died he gathered all Evelyn's belongings and sent them
to her. Lucas told me— good heavens, he actually boasted of it— that he
was in full control at Ellesmere Castle while the old gentleman lay
ill. If Ellesmere had softened toward Evelyn and wished to restore her
to favor, Lucas would make certain he did not reach his lawyers in
order to make a new will. But he might write a new will— a holograph
will, I believe it is called. Knowing Lucas as he did, the poor old man
saw only one way to ensure that such a document would survive. He could
send it to Evelyn— packed in with her other Possessions. He hoped to
escape arousing Lucas's suspicions that way."
"By Gad, Peabody, I think you've got it!" Emerson exclaimed.
"I think so too. Lucas has tried every possible means of getting to
those boxes of Evelyn's, or of having them destroyed unopened. He must
have missed them in Rome; and when they arrived in Egypt they went into
the safekeeping of Baring, who is the most powerful man in the
government. He was a friend
of Father's, and he knows of Lucas's
unsavory reputation; from such a man Lucas had no chance of extracting
the precious boxes. Alas; for if he had— "
"Evelyn would not now be in danger," Emerson's quick wits supplied the
conclusion. "He may not be certain that such a will exists, but he must
have reason to suspect that it does. If he could destroy it he would be
safe. Failing that, he pursued Evelyn. As her husband he would have
control of her fortune in any case, and he would have a good excuse to
take charge of her baggage. But the marriage plan failed
as well;
thanks to our strenuous efforts, his lordship has now only one means
left of gaining his ends
. . . . Peabody, you must not blame yourself.
How could you possibly have suspected this?"
"I don't blame myself," I said,wiping away the tears that were stealing
down my face. "As you say, I could not have suspected. It is the most
farfetched scheme I have ever encountered; only a frivolous, amoral
man, who had been reading too many wild romances, would think of such a
thing. And vain
regret is useless. I will not indulge in it. I will get
out of here and go after Evelyn, and I will kill his lordship if he has
harmed her."
I rose to my knees. Emerson put his hand in the center of my back and
pushed me down again.
"I am in complete agreement with your program. But let us try to think
of some safer way to do it."
"Can we expect no help from anyone? What of Abdullah? And the crewmen
on the boat— surely they heard the shots."
"I have grave suspicions of Abdullah," Emerson said grimly. "You
forget, Peabody, that these people
are desperately poor."
"And Reis Hassan too? I thought he looked strange the other day when
you were questioning him."
"Hassan is one of the few honest men I know. Unfortunately he is also
superstitious. He was ashamed to admit to me that he had been
terrorized by Mohammed's tales of ghosts and curses. No; he will come,
I believe, if he can overcome his fears and persuade his crew. But we
cannot count on that. Then there is the crew of his lordship's
dahabeeyah to be considered. What if they have been paid to prevent a
rescue attempt? No, Peabody, if we are to get out of here in time, it
must be by ourselves. And I think we had better set about it."
"But how... ?"
"There are pebbles and rocks on the threshold. When I give the signal,
begin rolling them down. Meanwhile, I will creep along the path in the
other direction and try to get behind him."
"It is a foolhardy scheme," I said. "He will surely see or hear you."
"From below he has a poor chance of hitting me if I keep low. You must
cover any sounds I make by
the exuberance of your performance and, if
possible, induce him to empty the magazine of his repeater. Come, come,
Peabody; if you have any more practical suggestion, I will be happy to
hear it. I have
never had the inclination to be a hero. But we must do
something, and soon."
I had nothing to say— nothing practical, that is. There were many
things
I wanted to say. I wanted to
say them so badly that I had to bury my
teeth in my lower lip to keep it from forming the words. I
turned my
head away.
Emerson took me by the shoulders and rolled me over. He had lifted
himself upon his elbows; I lay between them, like an unfortunate mouse
under a cat's paws. His face was so close I could see the bristles of
bis whiskers.
"It seems possible that we shall not live through the night," he
remarked. "I would hate to die without having ----- Damnation! I
will
do
it, even at the risk of surviving to face the consequences!"
Whereupon he bent his head and kissed me full on the mouth.
At first I was too stupefied by surprise to do anything. Afterward, I
was simply too stupefied to do anything. It was not the first time I
had been kissed. Several of the suitors who appeared after I inherited
Papa's money had presumed ----- Well, let us be honest. I had
encouraged
them to kiss me. I was immensely curious about the process. In all
cases it
proved to be a deadly bore. It occurred to me, very soon after Emerson
began kissing me, that previous experience in this field is not always
a dependable guide.
you fear will happen? If your reasoning is correct—"
"My reasoning was damnably, stupidly, fatally wrong," Emerson replied
forcibly. "I am missing a vital clue— a piece of information that would
make sense of the whole business. I suspect you hold that clue,
Peabody. You must tell me— "
He stopped speaking; I suppose the expression on my face struck him
dumb. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rising. I was facing the
lower end of the path; and there, barely visible, around the corner of
the cliff, something moved. A low moan echoed through the air.
Emerson spun around. The moaning cry came again.
It was a frightening sound, but I knew, after the first moment, that it
did not come from the throat of
the Mummy. This cry held human anguish
and pain; I could not have resisted its appeal if a thousand gibbering,
gesticulating Mummies had stood in my way.
Quickly as I moved, Emerson was before me. He went more cautiously than
I would have done, his arm holding me back, and when we reached the
bottom of the path he thrust me away while he went on to investigate.
The object I had seen, whatever it was, had disappeared from sight;
Emerson followed it into invisibility, and for a moment I held my
breath. Then I heard his low exclamation— not of fear, but of horror
and
distress. Rounding the rock corner, I saw him kneeling on the ground
beside the prostrate
body of a man. I knew the man, although, God
forgive me, I had almost forgotten him. It was our vanished servant—
the
dragoman, Michael. "Oh, heavens," I cried, flinging myself down beside
the
recumbent form. "Is he dead?"
"Not yet. But I fear..." Emerson raised
his hand, which had been resting on the back of Michael's head. The
stains on his fingers looked like ink in
the moonlight.
Michael was wearing the same faded blue-and-white-striped robe that he
had worn the day of his disappearance. It was now torn and crumpled. I
reached for his wrist, to feel his pulse, but a closer
sight of his
outflung arm made me exclaim aloud. The bared wrist was swollen and
bloody.
"He has been a prisoner," I said, forcing my fingers to touch the torn
flesh. "These are the marks of ropes."
"They are. How is his pulse?"
"Steady, but feeble. He must have medical attention at once. I will do
what I can, but my skill is so small— Can we carry him up to the tomb?
Perhaps Lucas will help."
"I can manage."
Emerson turned Michael over; with a single heave of his broad shoulders
he lifted the dragoman's slight form into his arms, and rose.
And then— dear Heaven, I can scarcely write of it now without a
reminiscent shudder. Screams— the high, agonized shriek of a woman in
the extremity of terror! They died in a long, wailing moan.
Emerson bounded forward, carrying the unconscious man as if he weighed
no more than a feather. I followed; and as we came around the corner of
the cliff, the whole hideous tableau burst upon our eyes, like a scene
from the worst conceptions of Madame Tussaud.
On the ledge above us stood the Mummy. The blind, bandaged head was
turned toward us; one stubby leg was lifted, as if our sudden
appearance had stopped it in midstep. To the crumbling, rotting
bandages of its breast, the horror clasped me unconscious form of
Evelyn.
Her tumbled golden curls hung down over its arm; her little white feet
peeped pathetically out of the folds of her nightdress. After the first
scream of terror she bad fainted dead away, as any girl might, finding
herself in the arms of such a suitor. I began pounding on Emerson's
back. He was barring the entrance
to the narrow path, and I was frantic to pass him and attack
the thing. I remembered poor Evelyn's exclamation on that far-off day,
when a ghoulish peddler had tried to sell us a mummified hand. She
would die, she said, if the withered flesh should touch her.... Well,
we had it trapped now. If it had supernatural powers, it would need
them all to escape me.
The passage of time seemed to halt; I felt like one trapped in
quicksand, or the slow, floating motion of
a dream, where enormous
effort is required to make the slightest movement. Then all sorts of
things happened at once.
Lucas came out of the tent, which was not far from us. I assumed he had
been asleep, had been wakened by Evelyn's screams, and, his senses
dulled by wine, had been slow to respond. He took in the situation
at a
glance, and moved more quickly than I would have expected. In his
haste, he collided with us. Emerson kept his feet with difficulty,
falling back against the cliff face with the body of the dying man
still in his arms; I was thrown to the ground. While we were tumbling
about, the Mummy took advantage of our confusion. Flexing its stiff
knees, the creature jumped—actually leaped from the ledge. Such was my
state of mind, I half expected to see it take wing and soar through the
air like a giant bat. Alighting, still erect, amid the tumble of rocks
at the base of the cliff, it scrambled down the slope and ran. Evelyn's
fair hair streamed out behind.
"Pursue it!" I shrieked. "Do not let it escape!"
At least that is what I believe I shrieked. Emerson informs me that my
language was less coherent, and
so inflammatory that he positively
blushed, despite the urgency of the moment. He, of course, was in a
dreadful predicament; encumbered by the injured man, he could hardly
fling him to the ground. I was so entangled in the abominable garments
forced on women by the decrees of fashion that I could not arise.
It
all depended on Lucas; and after the first confused moments, he rose to
the occasion.
"Never fear," he cried, leaping up. "It will not escape me! Remain
here— we must not all abandon the camp— I will rescue Evelyn — "
Running fleetly, he was already several yards away as his last words
reached my ears.
An echoing cry came from above. Looking up, I saw Walter, who had just
emerged from his sleeping chamber. If he had been drugged, the vision
before his eyes woke him with a vengeance; with another shout of
mingled rage and horror, he flung himself down the slope and followed
Lucas.
As I started after them, Emerson kicked me in the shin. I must confess
he could not have stopped me
in any other way, since his arms were
occupied.
"This is madness," he groaned. "Keep your head, Peabody; someone must
act sensibly— follow me,
you must remain with Michael."
The advice was excellent; the difficulty was in following it. The folly
of pursuit was manifest; if the
young men could not catch up with the
mummified miscreant, it was futile for a woman, hampered by
her skirts,
to try and do so. I could still see the pale shape of the Mummy, as it
flitted in and out among the rocks. Walter stumbled along behind,
waving his arms and shouting. All this happened, of course, in far less
time than it takes to write it down.
I ran after Emerson, who was ascending the path in great leaps. If I
was not wringing my hands, it was because I needed them to keep my
balance. Emerson was correct; it was necessary for one of us to tend
Michael's wounds, but I really did not see how I could bear to remain
there, in ignorance and forced inactivity.
Emerson laid his burden gently upon his couch. To do him justice, he
had not wasted a moment, nor did he waste time now in unnecessary
directions to me. Instantly he turned back to the entrance. I reached
for the lamp, meaning to light it. As I did so, there came a crack and
a whine from without. Emerson's
tall form, silhouetted in the doorway,
staggered and fell.
12
IT IS vain to attempt to describe my sensations at that moment. I hadrecognized the sound as that of
a bullet. I dropped the lamp; I forgot
my injured servant; for an instant I even forgot Evelyn and her deadly
peril. I started toward the spot where I had seen Emerson fall.
My heart had not missed more than a few beats, however, when a hand
caught my ankle and brought
me crashing to the ground. I fell on top of
Emerson, and heard his grunt with pain. My hands, fumbling
at his face,
encountered a wet, sticky flow.
"You are wounded," I exclaimed. "My God, Emerson— "
Emerson sneezed.
"I beg that you will leave off tickling me," he said irritably. "The
region around the chin and jaw is particularly sensitive. For God's
sake, Peabody, stop sniveling; it is only a cut from a bit of flying
rock."
"Oh," I said. "But the shot was aimed at you! In heaven's name, what
are you doing now? Don't go
out there— "
He was crawling toward the entrance.
"The shot was meant as a warning," he said over his shoulder. "We are
safe enough— for the moment— unless we try to leave the tomb. Hand me
that
shut of Walter's, if you please— it is lying
across his bed— and my walking stick. Thank you.
Now let us see— "
A second shot rewarded his demonstration when he draped the shirt over
the stick and extended it out
the doorway. Emerson withdrew it. "He is
there, among the rocks," he said calmly.
"He? Who?"
"You sound like one of the villagers' donkeys," said Emerson. "Who else
could it be? You must have deduced his identity by now. I have known it
for some time; but his motive still eludes me. What the
devil ails the
fellow, to seek to win a wife by such means? I would not have thought
him capable of the insane passion that prompts such acts."
Once— even a few hours earlier— his calm, drawling voice would have
driven me wild. Now I was seized by the same icy calm. We had already
delayed too long; even if we could escape from this
ambush uninjured,
Evelyn and her abductor would be out of sight. It was up to Walter now.
At least he had only one enemy to face. The other was below, with rifle
in his hands.
"There is motive," I said. "I am only now beginning to see.... No, no,
it is impossible. From the first I
too suspected Lucas. But he was not
here. He did not arrive until long after we did, long after the Mummy
made its first appearance. He did not know we would stop here—"
"I think it is high time we compared notes," said Emerson, recumbent
before the entrance. "You might give Michael a little water, Peabody; I
fear that is all we can do for the poor fellow now, since we dare not
strike a light, and your medical supplies are in your sleeping chamber.
Then come here and join me."
I did what I could for Michael. It was little enough. He was still
breathing, but that was about all I could say. I then crawled to the
entrance and lay down flat, next to Emerson, who was peering out across
the moonlit plain, his chin propped on his folded arms. "You and I have
been at cross purposes since we met,
Peabody," he said. "It is a pity; for we might have prevented this
unfortunate business if we had taken
the trouble to be civil to one
another. You see, I have known for some days that his lordship has been
lying. Reis Hassan talked to the reis of the
Cleopatra
, and passed some
of the gossip on to me. His lordship's payments to his crew have been
princely. By means of exorbitant bribes, he got underway the very day
after you left. He was moored downriver, at Minieh, the day you landed
here.
"But that is not the important thing. His lordship has a
confederate— not
a hired native, but a man as dedicated to evil as he is. That
confederate is the man who is playing the role of the Mummy. This man's
whereabouts, prior to his public appearance here, are unknown. I
believe he came here some time ago and set the scene for the
drama— bribing Mohammed, introducing the mummy Walter found into an
empty tomb. His costume, his role were planned well in advance—
probably
in Cairo, where, I imagine, young Lord Ellesmere arrived earlier than
he led you to believe. Do you have an idea who this confederate might
be?"
"No. Lucas must have bribed him well. Of course it could be a friend of
Lucas's— one of his companions in vice. I do not know them. But,
Emerson, there is one great flaw in your argument. How could they know
where to set the scene? We did not plan to stop here — "
"Then Reis Hassan is a liar. He informs me that you laid out your
itinerary while still in Cairo, and that
he tried several times to
dissuade you from it."
"Oh, that. I did mention the possibility of visiting Amarna— along with
a
number of other sites. But how could Lucas know?"
"From Michael, I imagine. Did he have an opportunity to speak with him
before you left Cairo?"
"He did indeed," I said grimly. "And to think that we introduced them,
so that Michael might assist
Lucas in the selection of a
dragoman ----- Good God, what a fool I was!"
"You had no reason to suspect any danger. Nor did Michael. His lordship
was your friend, Evelyn's relation. It was not
until developments here became serious that Michael began to wonder
about his harmless indiscretion. He is an intelligent man, and devoted
to you body and soul; on the day of his disappearance he asked to speak
to you alone — "
"And Lucas heard him! He struck him down and spirited him away."
"Not Lucas, but one of his men. He kept the poor fellow prisoner in one
of the caves that are so common in these cliffs, and when we
obstinately refused to succumb to the laudanum he had placed in our
wine, he carried Michael here to distract us while his confederate
reached Evelyn.
"I must admit that the fellow has imagination; he acts brilliantly and
unhesitatingly in emergencies, and makes good use of any fortuitous
circumstances that can be turned to account. My illness was one such
lucky accident— lucky for him— but I feel sure he and his confederate
had
planned some means of detaining you here— damage to the dahabeeyah, or
to one of us. At that point in time, his lordship had not determined to
commit murder. He hoped to attain his ends by less drastic means,
although it seems clear he prepared for the worst, in case it should
become necessary. And I was misled. Not until you
were attacked this
afternoon did I fully realize that Evelyn was the real object of the
attentions we have been receiving, and even then I was fool enough to
suppose that once she had accepted Walter, his lordship would give up
his idiotic and dangerous games."
Emerson extended his stick once again out the entrance. Another shot
rang out, followed by the splintering of rock.
"Still there," he said. "I wonder how long he means to keep us here. We
are safe so long as we do not confront him. He will have some specious
excuse to explain why he failed to rescue Evelyn; I think the fellow is
actually vain enough to suppose he can get away with it. Shall we save
our skins, Peabody,
and sit still?"
"While Evelyn is in the clutches of that monster?" I demanded. "Don't
bait me, Emerson; you have no more intention of
accepting this than I do. Do you think Walter— "
"I am extremely concerned about Walter," said Emerson; I knew him well
enough now to hear the controlled agony under his calm tones. "But at
the moment we can do nothing to help him or Evelyn until we understand
what is behind this affair. There is some more desperate motive behind
his lordship's acts than frustrated love. Think, Peabody; if you have
ever used your brain, now is the time."
"I have a faint inkling of the truth," I said, in a stifled voice. "I
hate to contemplate it; for if I am right
----- Emerson, you and I have behaved like fools. If I had known what
you
knew about Lucas's movements; and if you had known what I am about to
tell you — "
"Speak, then. That is the trouble with women, even the best of them,"
Emerson added. "They will
indulge in vain cries of 'if only' and 'had I
but known.'"
"The criticism is justified," I said; my pride was thoroughly leveled
by the magnitude of the disaster. "Listen, men, while I narrate
Evelyn's story."
He listened. Only his eyes moved, so intent was he on what I had to say.
"Yes," he said, when I finished. "The clue is there, somewhere. A vast
amount of money may be an inducement to violence. But how? I cannot see
it, even now. Is it possible that his lordship lied to you about the
old man's death? If he still lives, and contemplates restoring Evelyn
as his heiress — "
"No, he is dead; one of my acquaintances in Cairo knew of it."
Emerson struck his fist against the floor.
"The conclusion is inescapable, Peabody; in some way we do not
comprehend, Evelyn must have control of the fortune his lordship so
ardently desires. He has done everything a man could do to induce her
to become bis wife. I believed his sole motive was passionate love of
his cousin. But in this day and age an English girl cannot be forced
into marriage, and a forced marriage is the only kind that could come
out of this
night's work. Nothing the wretch could do now would induce Evelyn to
marry him of her own free will. No; it is the lady's money that is
being sought, not the lady's person. If we only knew how — "
"I believe I do know," I interrupted. "I told you that before the late
Lord Ellesmere died he gathered all Evelyn's belongings and sent them
to her. Lucas told me— good heavens, he actually boasted of it— that he
was in full control at Ellesmere Castle while the old gentleman lay
ill. If Ellesmere had softened toward Evelyn and wished to restore her
to favor, Lucas would make certain he did not reach his lawyers in
order to make a new will. But he might write a new will— a holograph
will, I believe it is called. Knowing Lucas as he did, the poor old man
saw only one way to ensure that such a document would survive. He could
send it to Evelyn— packed in with her other Possessions. He hoped to
escape arousing Lucas's suspicions that way."
"By Gad, Peabody, I think you've got it!" Emerson exclaimed.
"I think so too. Lucas has tried every possible means of getting to
those boxes of Evelyn's, or of having them destroyed unopened. He must
have missed them in Rome; and when they arrived in Egypt they went into
the safekeeping of Baring, who is the most powerful man in the
government. He was a friend
of Father's, and he knows of Lucas's
unsavory reputation; from such a man Lucas had no chance of extracting
the precious boxes. Alas; for if he had— "
"Evelyn would not now be in danger," Emerson's quick wits supplied the
conclusion. "He may not be certain that such a will exists, but he must
have reason to suspect that it does. If he could destroy it he would be
safe. Failing that, he pursued Evelyn. As her husband he would have
control of her fortune in any case, and he would have a good excuse to
take charge of her baggage. But the marriage plan failed
as well;
thanks to our strenuous efforts, his lordship has now only one means
left of gaining his ends
. . . . Peabody, you must not blame yourself.
How could you possibly have suspected this?"
"I don't blame myself," I said,wiping away the tears that were stealing
down my face. "As you say, I could not have suspected. It is the most
farfetched scheme I have ever encountered; only a frivolous, amoral
man, who had been reading too many wild romances, would think of such a
thing. And vain
regret is useless. I will not indulge in it. I will get
out of here and go after Evelyn, and I will kill his lordship if he has
harmed her."
I rose to my knees. Emerson put his hand in the center of my back and
pushed me down again.
"I am in complete agreement with your program. But let us try to think
of some safer way to do it."
"Can we expect no help from anyone? What of Abdullah? And the crewmen
on the boat— surely they heard the shots."
"I have grave suspicions of Abdullah," Emerson said grimly. "You
forget, Peabody, that these people
are desperately poor."
"And Reis Hassan too? I thought he looked strange the other day when
you were questioning him."
"Hassan is one of the few honest men I know. Unfortunately he is also
superstitious. He was ashamed to admit to me that he had been
terrorized by Mohammed's tales of ghosts and curses. No; he will come,
I believe, if he can overcome his fears and persuade his crew. But we
cannot count on that. Then there is the crew of his lordship's
dahabeeyah to be considered. What if they have been paid to prevent a
rescue attempt? No, Peabody, if we are to get out of here in time, it
must be by ourselves. And I think we had better set about it."
"But how... ?"
"There are pebbles and rocks on the threshold. When I give the signal,
begin rolling them down. Meanwhile, I will creep along the path in the
other direction and try to get behind him."
"It is a foolhardy scheme," I said. "He will surely see or hear you."
"From below he has a poor chance of hitting me if I keep low. You must
cover any sounds I make by
the exuberance of your performance and, if
possible, induce him to empty the magazine of his repeater. Come, come,
Peabody; if you have any more practical suggestion, I will be happy to
hear it. I have
never had the inclination to be a hero. But we must do
something, and soon."
I had nothing to say— nothing practical, that is. There were many
things
I wanted to say. I wanted to
say them so badly that I had to bury my
teeth in my lower lip to keep it from forming the words. I
turned my
head away.
Emerson took me by the shoulders and rolled me over. He had lifted
himself upon his elbows; I lay between them, like an unfortunate mouse
under a cat's paws. His face was so close I could see the bristles of
bis whiskers.
"It seems possible that we shall not live through the night," he
remarked. "I would hate to die without having ----- Damnation! I
will
do
it, even at the risk of surviving to face the consequences!"
Whereupon he bent his head and kissed me full on the mouth.
At first I was too stupefied by surprise to do anything. Afterward, I
was simply too stupefied to do anything. It was not the first time I
had been kissed. Several of the suitors who appeared after I inherited
Papa's money had presumed ----- Well, let us be honest. I had
encouraged
them to kiss me. I was immensely curious about the process. In all
cases it
proved to be a deadly bore. It occurred to me, very soon after Emerson
began kissing me, that previous experience in this field is not always
a dependable guide.
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