Lion In The Valley Part 15

I abandoned the lecture. Ramses could always find a way to do what he wanted, if he had to burn the house down in order to justify it.

"Where is Enid?" I asked.

Then I saw her standing some distance away, her back turned. "She wanted to stay at the house," Donald said. "But I insisted she come with us."

"Quite right She must not be left alone for an instant."

"Besides, I need every pair of hands," Emerson announced. "Listen to me, all of you. I intend to work without interruption this day. If all the powers of h.e.l.l were to choose this spot on which to wage the final battle of Armageddon, I would not be distracted. If one of you feels a mortal illness come over him, pray go off and die at a distance. Come along, Ramses. You too, Fraser."

And he marched off, shouting for Abdullah.

"Well!" I said to Enid, who had approached me. "He is in a temper today! We had better humor him, my dear. I have a great treat for you-we are going to explore the interior of the pyramid!"

Instead of mirroring the enthusiasm I expected, the girl's face lengthened. "But Ramses said-"

"My dear girl, I hope you are not suggesting that a mere infant has my expertise in archaeology? There may be many important signs Ramses has missed."

I set the men to work clearing away the debris and enlarging the entrance. A closer examination of the ceiling of the descending pa.s.sageway convinced me there was no danger of further collapse except in the section immediately adjoining the one that had already fallen. A few stout timbers were arranged to brace this; the fallen stones were removed; and I allowed myself the pleasure of being the first to penetrate the interior. We disturbed the usual number of bats, and the advent of these harmless creatures, squeaking and flapping, had a deleterious effect on Enid's nerves. She absolutely refused to accompany me any farther, so I went on alone. fallen stones were removed; and I allowed myself the pleasure of being the first to penetrate the interior. We disturbed the usual number of bats, and the advent of these harmless creatures, squeaking and flapping, had a deleterious effect on Enid's nerves. She absolutely refused to accompany me any farther, so I went on alone.

At the end of a series of pa.s.sages and corridors was a small chamber some seven and a half feet square, with a fine corbeled roof. It was entirely empty. A brief search through the debris on the floor disclosed nothing of interest, and, leaving Selim to sift through the dust to make sure nothing had been overlooked, I returned to the open air, heroically concealing my disappointment.

I found Enid outside, perched on one of the blocks on the side of the pyramid. Chin on her hands, the breeze ruffling her hair, she watched the others gather for the midmorning break. I indicated I was ready to join them, and as we scrambled down the steplike stones I remarked, "It won't do, you know. You cannot go on forever treating him like a leper."

"I can and will," Enid said hotly. "Unless he comes to his senses and confesses the truth."

"He has already confessed to such a staggering variety of sins, I can't imagine what he could be concealing," I remarked. "Unless you believe he is the killer."

"You misunderstand me." We reached the ground and she turned to face me. "It was Ronald," she blurted. "Not Donald at all. He took the blame for Ronald's fault, as he has always done."

' 'Losing his commission, his honor, and his fortune? Come, Enid, I can't believe any man (even a man) would be so foolish. n.o.bility and self-sacrifice are the highest qualities of which humanity is capable, but when carried to excess, they are not so much admirable as idiotic." when carried to excess, they are not so much admirable as idiotic."

"I quite agree," Enid said, with a bitter laugh. "But you don't know Donald. Quixotic is too mild a word for him. Ronald was always his mother's darling-the younger and smaller and weaker of the two."

"The runt of the litter," I said musingly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"It is a slang expression, and a very pithy one. How often have I seen a mother cherish some pitiful crippled infant, to the neglect of the other children in the family. Weakness brings out the best in us, Enid, and I must say-"

"Yes, I have no doubt that in the abstract it is a n.o.ble quality. But in this case it resulted in terrible harm to both brothers. Ronald was never at fault, he was never punished. Instead of resenting this unfair treatment, Donald tried to win his mother's approval by appointing himself Ronald's defender and whipping boy. When Ronald did something wrong, he blamed Donald, and Donald took the beating. When Ronald taunted a hulking bully, Donald did the fighting. Their mother's last words to Donald were, 'Always love and protect your brother.' And he has done exactly that."

"In childhood, perhaps. But how can you be certain Donald took the blame for his brother this time? A beating is one thing; to admit responsibility for a debt one has not incurred-"

"It would not be the first time," Enid said. "Donald has paid a number of Ronald's debts in the past. This time the situation was more serious. Ronald would have been publicly disgraced and perhaps sent to prison if the gentleman whose signature had been forged had decided to press the matter. He was willing to let Donald off more lightly because of the respect and affection felt for Donald by all who know him-a consideration that would a.s.suredly not have been extended to Ronald. For that reason Donald agreed to take the blame on himself. I am as certain of that fact as I am that we are standing here, but I cannot prove it. The only ones who know the truth are the brothers themselves. Ronald won't betray himself, and if Donald is determined to play the martyr ... That was why I had to come to Egypt. Ronald had already set out, ostensibly to find Donald and bring him home. I knew he would not press the search, and of course I was right. When I reached Cairo I learned that Ronald had gone off on some pleasure trip. It was up to me to locate Donald and beg him-threaten him-" for Donald by all who know him-a consideration that would a.s.suredly not have been extended to Ronald. For that reason Donald agreed to take the blame on himself. I am as certain of that fact as I am that we are standing here, but I cannot prove it. The only ones who know the truth are the brothers themselves. Ronald won't betray himself, and if Donald is determined to play the martyr ... That was why I had to come to Egypt. Ronald had already set out, ostensibly to find Donald and bring him home. I knew he would not press the search, and of course I was right. When I reached Cairo I learned that Ronald had gone off on some pleasure trip. It was up to me to locate Donald and beg him-threaten him-"

"Bribe him?" I inquired delicately.

A deep flush stained the girl's rounded cheeks. "He has never given the slightest indication that an offer of the sort to which you refer would influence him."

"I see. Well, men are strange creatures, Enid; it requires experience like mine, which extends over many nations and two separate continents, to understand their foibles. Did it ever occur to you that Ronald might have taken steps to prevent you from finding Donald?"

"Such a suspicion did enter my mind," Enid murmured. "I even wondered whether Kalenischeff might not have been sent to lead me astray. But I cannot believe that, even of Ronald...."

"Believe it," I said firmly. "Kalenischeff was up to something; he told me he intended to leave Egypt, and he would never abandon a lucrative scheme until he had collected every possible penny first. He meant to betray someone, I am certain of that. The only question is- who? Well, my dear, you have raised several interesting and suggestive issues, which I must mull over. Now we had better join the others. I believe I hear Emerson calling me." had better join the others. I believe I hear Emerson calling me."

There was no doubt about it, in fact. Emerson's voice, as I have had occasion to remark, is notable for its carrying quality.

Ramses was the first to greet us. He asked whether I had found anything interesting inside the pyramid.

I changed the subject.

We had almost finished our repast when the sound of voices from afar warned us that another party of tourists was approaching. The absurd little caravan came trotting toward us, and after one look at the formidable figure leading the procession, Emerson dived headlong into the trench that had been dug. After the episode with the empress, he was wary of old ladies.

I sent the others back to work and advanced to meet the intruders, hoping I could head them off and spare my poor Emerson. The rider on the lead donkey looked familiar, and I realized that it was indeed the elderly American lady I had seen at Shepheard's. Her voluminous black skirts practically swallowed up the little donkey. Nevertheless, he proceeded at a brisk trot, which caused the old lady to roll perilously from side to side. Two donkey boys took turns shoving her back into the saddle.

Seeing me, she changed course. "I know you," she said, in a piercing nasal voice. "Saw you at the hotel. Friend of Baehler's? Most improper, a lady dining alone."

"I was not dining, I was lunching," I reminded her, and then introduced myself.

"Huh," said the old lady. "And who's that, then?"

She pointed with her parasol. I turned. ' 'Allow me to present my son," I said. "Ramses, go back-"

"Ramses?" The old lady trumpeted. "What kind of name is that? Sickly-looking child. Not long for this world." name is that? Sickly-looking child. Not long for this world."

"Thank you for your concern, madam," I said with frigid courtesy. "I a.s.sure you it is unwarranted. Ramses, will you please-"

The old lady distracted me by dismounting. Indeed, the process would have seriously alarmed someone of a nervous temperament, accompanied as it was by infuriated screams and wild waving of her parasol. I thought she was going to topple over onto one of the small donkey boys and mash him flat. However, the action was eventually completed and the old lady, straightening her skirts and her black veil, addressed me again.

"Show me the pyramid, ma'am. I came a long way to see it, and see it I will. Mrs. Axhammer of Des Moines, Iowa, don't do things by halves. I've got a list...." She plucked it from her pocket and waved it like a flag. "And I'm not going home till I've seen everything that's writ down here."

"What about your companions?" I asked. Both had dismounted. The pale young man leaned weakly against his donkey, mopping his brow. The woman had collapsed onto the ground, her face as green as the palms in the background.

Mrs. Axhammer of Des Moines, Iowa (wherever that barbaric location may be), emitted the evillest laugh I had ever heard. "Let 'em sit. Poor weak critters, they can't keep up with me-and I'm sixty-eight years old, ma'am, not a day less. That's my nephew-Jonah's his name-I brung him along so he could tend to things, but he ain't worth a plugged nickel. Thinks he'll get cut out of my will if he ain't nice to me. Doesn't know he's already cut out of it. I hired that fool woman for a companion, but she ain't holding up either. A lady's got to have a chaperone, though. What's that boy staring at me for? Ain't you taught him any manners?" have a chaperone, though. What's that boy staring at me for? Ain't you taught him any manners?"

"I venture to say," said Ramses, in his most pedantic manner, "that most people would forget their manners when confronted with someone as remarkable in appearance as yourself. However, I do not wish any opprobrium to attach to my mama. She has endeavored to correct my behavior, and if the result is not as it should be, the blame is mine, not hers."

It was difficult to a.s.sess the effect of this speech on Mrs. Axhammer, for the veil blurred her features. Personally, I thought it rather a handsome effort. Ramses advanced and held out his hand. "May I escort you, madam?" he asked.

The old lady brandished her parasol. "Get away, get away, you young rascal. I know boys; trip you up, boys do, and put spiders on you."

Ramses began, "Madam, rest a.s.sured I had no intention-"

"Now how could you be any use to me?" the old lady demanded irascibly. "Puny little critter like you. ... Here, ma'am, I'll take your arm. You're short, but you look strong."

She caught me by the shoulder. She was wearing dainty black lace mittens, but there was nothing delicate about her hand, which was as heavy as a man's. I permitted the liberty, however. Courtesy to the elderly is a trait I endeavor to instill in my son-and the lady's grip was too strong to be easily dislodged.

As we walked slowly toward the pyramid, Mrs. Axhammer subjected me to a searching and impertinent interrogation. She asked how old I was, how long I had been married, how many children I had, and how I liked my husband. I returned the compliment as soon as I could get a word in, asking her how she liked Egypt.

After a long diatribe about the heathen customs and unsanitary habits of the modern Egyptian, she added in an equally vitriolic tone, "Not that civilized folks act much better, ma'am. The scandals I heard in Cairo would make a lady blush, I do a.s.sure you. Why, there was a young English lady murdered her inamorato a few days ago; cut his throat ear to ear, they say, in her very room."

"I had heard of it," I said. "I cannot believe any young lady would do such a thing."

A gust of wind blew Mrs. Axhammer's veil askew, just as she bared a set of large white teeth whose very perfection betrayed their falsity. "There's no doubt in my mind," she snapped. "Women are dangerous, ma'am, much more dangerous than the male. I see you've got one out here with you. Don't approve of women taking work away from men. Ought to stay home and tend to the house."

Realizing I would get no more out of the malicious old creature except ignorant maledictions about her own s.e.x, I determined to finish my duties and get rid of her. She paid no attention to my lecture, which, if I may say so, was of admirable quality, and resisted my efforts to lead her away from the excavations.

"There's a white man down there with all them natives," she exclaimed indignantly. "Is that your husband? Ain't he got no sense of dignity? Hi, there, you-" And she made as if to jab Emerson, whose back was turned, with her parasol.

Like lightning I brought my own parasol into play, striking up the shaft of Mrs. Axhammer's with a skill worthy of a master swordsman. The ring of steel on steel made Emerson jump, but he did not turn round.

The old lady burst out laughing and feinted playfully at me with her parasol. "Useful instruments, ain't they? Never travel without one. Hey, there-" at me with her parasol. "Useful instruments, ain't they? Never travel without one. Hey, there-"

She spun round; and as her flailing draperies settled, I saw to my consternation that they had concealed a small kneeling form.

"Ramses!" I exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

"Looking up my skirts," the old lady howled. "Let me at him, ma'am, let me at the little rascal. You've been too soft on him, ma'am; he needs a good thras.h.i.+ng, and Mrs. Axhammer of Des Moines, Iowa, is the one to give it to him."

While I engaged the agitated old person in a spirited exchange of thrusts and parries, Ramses skipped hastily away. "I was merely examining your feet, madam," he said indignantly. "They are very large, you know."

This remark may have been intended to soften Mrs. Axhammer's anger, but as might have been predicted, it had precisely the opposite effect. She set off after Ramses, and, seeing he was having no difficulty in keeping a safe distance from her, I followed at a more leisurely pace. At least Ramses' dreadful lapse of manners had succeeded in drawing Mrs. Axhammer away from Emerson, and I fondly hoped that once away, she would not return.

Such proved to be the case. Shaking with indignation, Mrs. Axhammer mounted her donkey and the caravan trotted off.

When we returned to the house that afternoon, Emerson expressed himself as satisfied with the morning's work. "I think I have it clear in my mind now, Peabody. There are traces of at least three occupation levels, the latest addition having probably been made in Ptolemaic times. The plan is complex, however, and I would appreciate your a.s.sistance, if you are finished messing about with your pyramid." your a.s.sistance, if you are finished messing about with your pyramid."

Overlooking the derogatory tone, I a.s.sured him that I was at his disposal. "There is nothing inside, Emerson. I doubt that it was ever used for a burial."

"That is what I said, Mama," remarked Ramses.

After luncheon, Enid retired to her room with her book of detective stories. She had not spoken a word to Donald, and his gloomy look testified to his depressed spirits. I was about to suggest we have a little talk when Emerson said, "What would you think about a ride to Mazghunah this afternoon, Peabody? The communion vessels ought to be returned to the church."

"An excellent idea, Emerson," I replied, wondering what was behind this suggestion.

"Shall we take Ramses?"

"I would rather not," I said truthfully.

"And I," said Ramses, "would prefer to take a little mild exercise, in the form of a stroll around the village and its environs."

"Mild exercise indeed," I exclaimed. "You have had a great deal of exercise already, being chased by infuriated old ladies. Stay here and work on your grammar."

"Never mind, Peabody," Emerson said with a smile. "We cannot keep an active lad like Ramses shut up in the house all the time. There is no harm in his taking a stroll so long as Mr. Fraser accompanies him."

Neither Ramses nor Donald appeared to care for that idea. "Such an arrangement would leave the young lady unprotected," Ramses protested. Donald nodded vigorous agreement.

"She has stout walls and strong men to protect her," Emerson replied. "It is broad daylight, and we won't be long. Mazghunah is only ten kilometers from here, and our business will be easily concluded." and our business will be easily concluded."

So it was arranged. Taking two of the donkeys, Emerson and I rode southward. We saw no one, for at that time of day tourists and natives alike retire into the shade. I hardly need say that Emerson and I are never deterred from the path of duty by climatic conditions, and I, for one, enjoyed the ride.

The path, scarcely discernible to any but a trained eye, led across the rocky waste of the plateau, past the tumbled remains of the three brick pyramids of Dahshoor. They had been built a thousand years after their great stone neighbors, but the shorter pa.s.sage of time had not dealt kindly with them. Once faced with stone, in imitation of the older and larger tombs, they had crumbled into shapeless ma.s.ses of brick as soon as the facing stones were removed.

Dominating the other ruins was the great bulk of the Black Pyramid, the tomb of Amenemhat of the Twelfth Dynasty. Because of its location on the highest part of the plateau, it appears from some vantage points to be even taller than its stone neighbors to the north, and its ominous reputation is justified by its appearance. I knew the interior of that monstrous structure only too well, for it was in its sunken and flooded burial chamber that Emerson and I had been flung by the villain who a.s.sumed we would never emerge alive. Only the most heroic exploits on both our parts (with a little a.s.sistance from Ramses) had enabled us to escape from perils which would have destroyed lesser beings.

Although I would have liked to explore the Black Pyramid again, and visit the ruined monastery we had occupied the year before, we had no time for nostalgia that day. We went directly to the village.

By comparison to Mazghunah, Menyat Dahshoor is a veritable metropolis. The former village is primarily inhabited by Copts (Egyptian Christians), but except for the characteristic indigo turbans, the inhabitants are indistinguishable in appearance from other Egyptians, and the wretched little houses are like those of any Moslem village. Ancient Coptic, the last remnant of the tongue of the pharaohs, is no longer spoken except in a few remote hamlets to the south, but it survives in the ritual of the Coptic Church. inhabited by Copts (Egyptian Christians), but except for the characteristic indigo turbans, the inhabitants are indistinguishable in appearance from other Egyptians, and the wretched little houses are like those of any Moslem village. Ancient Coptic, the last remnant of the tongue of the pharaohs, is no longer spoken except in a few remote hamlets to the south, but it survives in the ritual of the Coptic Church.

The village looked deserted. Even the dogs had sought shelter from the sun, and nothing moved except a few chickens pecking at bugs. Strangers are such a rarity in these primitive places, however, that our advent was soon acknowledged, and people began trickling out of their houses. We drew up near the well, which is the center of communal activity. Facing us was the church, with the house of the priest next to it.

The men gathered around Emerson, calling out greetings and inquiries. The women approached me, many carrying sickly babies. I had expected this and had come prepared; opening my medical kit, I began dispensing ipecacuanha and eyewash.

The Sheikh El Beled (mayor of the village) had of course noted our arrival as soon as the others, but dignity demanded that he delay awhile before presenting himself. Eventually, he made his appearance; when Emerson informed him that the lost communion vessels were about to be restored to him, tears filled the little man's eyes, and he dropped to his knees, kissing Emerson's feet and babbling thanks.

"Humph," said Emerson, not looking at me. Honesty demanded that we decline to take credit for something we had not achieved; but on the other hand, there was no need to explain a situation that was inexplicable even to us.

As the news spread through the crowd, a scene of utter pandemonium broke out. People wept, shouted, sang, and embraced one another. They also embraced Emerson, a favor he endured without enthusiasm. "Ridiculous," he grunted at me over the head of a very fat lady, whose veiled face was pressed against his chest. She was, I believe, raining kisses on that region, while holding him in a grip he could not escape. utter pandemonium broke out. People wept, shouted, sang, and embraced one another. They also embraced Emerson, a favor he endured without enthusiasm. "Ridiculous," he grunted at me over the head of a very fat lady, whose veiled face was pressed against his chest. She was, I believe, raining kisses on that region, while holding him in a grip he could not escape.

"You see, Peabody," he went on, "the degrading effect of superst.i.tion. These people are carrying on as if we had conferred health and immortality upon them instead of fetching back a few tarnished pots. I will never understand-er-awk-" He broke off, sputtering, as the lady raised herself on tiptoe and planted a fervent kiss upon his chin.

Eventually we quieted the crowd and, escorted by the mayor, proceeded to the church. On the step, hands raised in thanksgiving, was the priest, and very odd it seemed to behold his stout figure and genial face in the place of the great (in all but the moral sense) Father Girgis. Everybody trooped into the church, including the donkeys, and when the precious vessels had been restored to the altar, such a shout broke out that the very rafters shook-which was not surprising, since they were extremely old and brittle. Tears of joy streaming down his face, the priest announced there would be a service of thanks the following day. He then invited us and the mayor to join him in his house.

So again we entered the edifice where once we had been welcomed by the Master Criminal himself. So pervasive were the presence and the memory of that great and evil man that I half-expected to see him in the shadows, stroking his enormous black beard and smiling his enigmatic smile. It is a strange and disquieting fact that evil can sometimes appear more impressive than virtue. Certainly the Master Criminal had made a more imposing man of G.o.d than his successor. Father Todorus was a foot shorter and several feet wider round the middle; his beard was scanty, and streaked with gray.

He was a pleasant host, however. We settled ourselves on the divan with its faded chintz cus.h.i.+ons, and the priest offered us refreshment, which of course we accepted, for to refuse would have been rude in the extreme. I was expecting the thick, sweet coffee which is the common drink; imagine my surprise when the priest returned from an inner room with a tray on which rested a gla.s.s bottle and several clay cups. After Emerson had taken a cautious sip of the liquid his eyebrows soared.

I followed suit. "It is French cognac," I exclaimed.

"The best French cognac," Emerson said. "Father, where did you get this?"

The priest had already emptied his cup. He poured another generous measure and replied innocently, "It was here in my house when I returned."

"We have been anxious to hear of your adventure, Father," Emerson said. "How well I recall the anger of my distinguished chief wife, the Sitt Hakim here, upon learning that the priest of Dronkeh was not who he pretended to be. 'What have you done with the real priest, you son of a camel?' she cried. 'If you have injured that good, that excellent man, I will cut out your heart!' "

Emerson's version was not a very accurate rendering of what I had said, but I had indeed inquired about the missing priest, and well I remembered the M.C.'s cynical reply: "He is enjoying the worldly pleasures he has eschewed, and the only danger is to his soul."

After thanking me for my concern, Father Todorus launched into his story. It was clear that he had only been waiting for us to ask, and that constant repet.i.tion had shaped his account into a well-rehea.r.s.ed narrative of the sort to which Egyptians can listen over and over again. Unfortunately, there was less information than stylistic elegance in the long, rambling tale; stripped of unnecessary verbiage, it could have been told in a few sentences. again. Unfortunately, there was less information than stylistic elegance in the long, rambling tale; stripped of unnecessary verbiage, it could have been told in a few sentences.

Father Todorus had gone to bed one night as usual, and had awakened in a strange place, with no notion of how he had arrived there. The room was elegantly, indeed luxuriously furnished (the description of its silken curtains and soft couch, its tinkling fountain and marble floors occupied the bulk of the speech). But he saw no one save the attendants who brought him rich food and rare liquors at frequent intervals, and since the windows were barred and shuttered, he could see nothing that would give him the slightest clue as to his whereabouts.

His return was accomplished in the same eerie fas.h.i.+on; he awoke one morning in the same narrow cot from which he had been spirited away, and at first he could hardly believe the entire episode had not been a long and vivid dream. The astonished cries of his paris.h.i.+oners upon his reappearance, and the accounts they gave him of what had transpired during his absence, proved that his experience had been real. But the innocent man frankly admitted he was inclined to attribute the whole thing to evil spirits, who were known to torture holy men by tempting them with the goods of this world.

"So you were tempted, were you?" Emerson asked. "With rich food and fine wines and liquors-"

"They are not forbidden by our faith," Father Todorus hastened to remark.

"No, but other temptations are forbidden, at least to the clergy. Were the attendants who waited upon your reverence men or women?"