The Snake, the Crocodile, and the Dog (34 page)

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Though I felt a great deal better afterward, I found to my distress that I could not stand upright. It was not my foot that prevented this, though it hurt like the devil, but the fact that my knees kept bending at odd angles. I would not have supposed that the anatomy of the knee permitted such flexibility.
"Not such an enjoyable experience as you thought, was it?" said Emerson. "And the worst is yet to
come. If you think your head aches now, wait till tomorrow morning."
He looked so handsome, his eyes bright blue with amused malice, his hair waving damply back from his brow and his stalwart frame attired in clean if rumpled garments, I could not even resent the amusement.
Someone had replaced the dirty bandage, I presumed it had been Bertha. She had tended me as deftly and gently as a trained nurse, helping me strip off my filthy clothes— for my hands did not seem to function any better than my knees— and attend to the other elements of the toilette. Cyrus had been waiting to carry me to the saloon, where we were now assembled, refreshing the inner man (and woman) as the outer had been refreshed. It was certainly a more presentable group than the crew of weary, work-stained, agitated individuals who had stumbled onto the boat.
Arranging my skirts, I settled back on the divan and allowed Cyrus to lift my foot onto a stool. "You
will have your little joke, Emerson," I said. "I feel perfectly fit. I confess it is a relief to know I will not have hydrophobia. When I think of Abdullah's courage in examining that poor wretched dog! He might have contracted the disease himself."
"It is a pity he didn't think of examining the dog earlier," said Cyrus critically. "He might have spared
you all that agony, my dear."
"It was my idea to examine the dog," Emerson said. "Locating at short notice an animal in the appropriate stage of rabies is not as easy as you might suppose, and few men, however hardened, would care to
risk handling it. However, the idea did not occur to me immediately, and the cauterization could not have been delayed Every second counts with such injuries. Once the disease enters the bloodstream . . Well, there is no need to think of that. The dog was deliberately tortured and shut up in the house to await our arrival. Who knew we would be coming that way?"
"Everyone, I should think," Charlie said. "This is the day of rest, we assumed— "
"Quite right," I said. "That line of investigation won't lead anywhere, Emerson. The villain must have thought it was worth a try. All he stood to lose was one wretched dog Thank God we came when
we did! Its suffering is over now, at any rate."
"It is so like you to think of that," Cyrus murmured, taking my hand.
"Hmph," said Emerson. "You might better be thinking of what would have ensued if Abdullah had not examined the dog."
"We would have endured days, weeks of suspense," Kevin said soberly. "Even cauterization does not ensure— "
"No, no," Emerson said impatiently. "Your sympathetic suffering, O'Connell, would not have interested our attacker. What did he hope to gain by this?"
"The pleasure of picturing you picturing yourself in the ghastly throes of hydrophobia," I suggested. "Violent paroxysms of choking, tetanic convulsions, extreme depression, excitability . . ."
Emerson gave me a very old-fashioned look. "You are as bad as O'Connell. You were the one the
dog attacked, not I."
"But you were the intended victim," I insisted. "You always forge ahead of the rest of us, you would
have been the first to hear the poor animal's cries, and anyone who knows your character would realize how you would, inevitably, respond to such— "
"As you did." Emerson's eyes were fixed on my face. "You ran like the very devil, Peabody. How did you know the dog constituted a danger?"
I had hoped he would not wonder about that. "Don't be ridiculous," I said, with a good show of irritability. "I was not concerned about the dog, I feared it might have been employed as a means of
luring you into a trap of some kind, that is all. You are always rushing in where angels fear— "
"Unlike you," said Emerson. "I suppose you tripped and fell against me without intending to?"
"Quite," I said, in my most dignified tones.
"Hmph," said Emerson. "Well. It does not matter which of us was the intended victim. What would
we have done, had we believed the dog was rabid?"
Cyrus clasped my hand tighter. "I would have ordered a train and taken her straight to Cairo, of course. The Pasteur treatment must be available in the hospitals there."
"Very good, Vandergelt," said Emerson. "And somewhere along the way, I suspect, a group of kindly strangers would have relieved you of your charge. Unless . . . oh, curse it!" He leapt to his feet, eyes bulging. "What a fool I am!" And without further ado he rushed out of the room, leaving the door swinging on its hinges.
"Oh, curse it!" I echoed with equal vehemence. "Go after him, Cyrus! Confound my skirts and my
foot and my knees . . . Hurry, I say!"
When I speak in that tone I am seldom disobeyed (and when I am, it is always by Ramses). Cyrus
gave me a startled glance before following after Emerson. Charles looked at Rene. Rene looked at Charles. Charles shrugged. As one man they rose and left the room.
Kevin stood irresolutely in the doorway, one foot in and one foot out. "Where is he going?"
"I have not the least idea. I can only assume that it is somewhere he ought not to be— certainly not
alone and unguarded. Come back and sit down, Kevin, you will never catch them up now. If that was your intention."
Kevin looked hurt. Before he could proclaim his courage and zeal, Bertha ran to him and caught his
arm. "Do not go! Stay and protect us! This may be a ruse— "
"On Emerson's part?" I inquired ironically. "It is broad daylight and most of the men are still on board.
Do sit down, Bertha, and stop wailing."
His male vanity soothed by the appeal of a helpless female, Kevin slipped his arm around the slight, trembling form and led the girl to a sofa. She sat staring at me, her eyes very wide and dark. Then she wrenched the veil from her face, as if it smothered her.
"He was there before you," she said. "How is it that the dog attacked you instead?"
"I got in its way," I said.
"By chance? I do not believe that. I saw how quickly you ran. How you must love him!"
"Anyone would have done the same," I said shortly, for I am not in the habit of discussing my personal feelings with strange young women.
"Not I," said Kevin frankly. "At least not if I had been given time to think before I acted." He sighed deeply and patted Bertha's hand. "Och, but that's the curse of our confounded British moral code. It is drummed into us from childhood and is part of our nature. I've done me best to conquer it, but there
have been times when even I have instinctively behaved like a gentleman instead of thinking first of
my own precious skin."
"Not many," I said.
Bertha was trembling violently. Kevin seated himself beside her and began to croon reassurances in a particularly vile brogue I paid them no further heed. My eyes were fixed on the wide windows of the saloon, through which I had beheld Emerson rushing full-tilt up the bank toward the village, hatless and coatless, his hair blowing wildly in the breeze. The others had followed him, but I paid them no heed either, even in my thoughts.
Long before I had dared hope they returned. I could have cried out with relief. Cyrus must have
stopped him and persuaded him to listen to reason— or, more likely, Emerson had had second thoughts. He was not, as a rule, susceptible to persuasion, however reasonable.
He and Cyrus walked side by side, with the two young men trailing them at a respectful distance. It was pleasant to see such amity between them,- they appeared to be engaged in serious conversation, and I would have given a great deal to overhear what they were saying. Never mind, I thought, I will get it out of Cyrus at a later time.

CHAPTER 14
"Men always have some high-sounding excuse for indulging themselves."

The snake, the crocodile and the dog— we had met and overcome them all! The last of the three fates
had been the subtlest and most dangerous, if Emerson had not thought to examine the body of the dog,
I might even now be in the clutches of our arch-enemy. I did not blame him for failing to think of it earlier. The idea— irrefutably logical though it was— had not occurred to me either. I had been somewhat distracted at the time. Only those who have faced it can fully comprehend the sick horror
that fills the soul at the mere possibility of that ghastly infection. Cauterization is the most effective treatment, but it is not a certain cure.
Emerson had been a trifle distracted himself. I remembered his set, white face as he bent over me, the tightening of his lips as he prepared to lay the red-hot steel against my flesh. But there had been no
tremor of those firm hands, no moisture in those keen blue eyes.
Naturally one expects such fortitude in a man of Emerson's character.
However, I would not have held it against him if he had wiped away a few manly tears.
The eyes that looked at me now were not brilliant sapphire but steely gray— my own, reflected in the mirror over my dressing table. We had dispersed to our rooms after luncheon. The others were napping,
I was supposed to be doing the same. Cyrus had placed me on my bed and bade me rest, Emerson, passing by the door, had called out, "Try sleeping it off, MISS Peabody, that usually works for me."
How could I sleep? My brain teemed with confusion. I had managed to hobble to the dressing table,
not because the contemplation of my own features gave me any pleasure, but because I cogitate more efficiently when in an upright position.
As Cyrus carried me to my room I had taken the opportunity of questioning him about the conversation
I had overheard— or, to be more precise, overseen. "I was just trying to talk some sense into him, my dear," was the reply. "He was heading back to the desert when we caught up with him, wanted to have another look at the body of the dog, he said 'Don't worry, he's thought better of it.'"
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 assaults 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 embarrassment. Even more flattering was their assumption that I would be able to produce a reasonable facsimile of the document 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 some
 
experimentation 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 compass 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 document? 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 attitudes 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 assured 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 document 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 assured 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 document 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.