Lion In The Valley Part 18

"You can hardly suppose I would expend so much effort in avoiding him and then change my mind."

Enid said, ostentatiously directing her comment to Ramses, "Cowardice, you know, is not always of the physical variety. Refusal to confront the truth is a form of moral cowardice, which to me is even worse."

Statements of this nature were not designed to improve the mood of the gathering.

Nor was Emerson any help. As a rule, after a successful day of excavation he is full of cheerful talk about his accomplishments and his plans for the future. I attributed his silence to resentment-unreasonable and unfair in the extreme, since it was Ramses who introduced the subject in the first place, and I only acted as any mother would have done. My attempts to woo Emerson from his bad humor by questioning him about the temple ruins won no response.

As might have been expected, Ramses was quite ready to talk, and I must say his conversation was a curious blend of his normal Egyptological interests and his new infatuation. He kept inviting Enid to come to his room so he could show her his Egyptian grammar.

At the end of the meal Emerson announced abruptly that he intended to go to Cairo next day. "It is the day of rest for the men, so I won't be losing any more time than I would in any case. I count on you, Mr. Fraser, to watch over Ramses and the ladies-" than I would in any case. I count on you, Mr. Fraser, to watch over Ramses and the ladies-"

"The ladies!" I exclaimed. "I hope you don't include me me in that category, Emerson. Naturally I intend to accompany you." in that category, Emerson. Naturally I intend to accompany you."

"I phrased it badly, Peabody. Pray excuse me. I had hoped you would also remain here, on guard. You are worth a thousand men, you know."

This flagrant attempt at flattery was so unlike Emerson, I could only stare in silent astonishment. Donald said, "As to that, Professor, you may be sure I will do my duty with or without Mrs. Emerson's a.s.sistance. Even a moral coward may be willing to die in defense of the weak and helpless."

This statement infuriated both Enid and Ramses. Enid suggested that they retire, to inspect the grammar, and they went off together. Bastet followed them, but not before she had indicated her loyalty to her young master by biting Donald on the leg.

It was agreed that we should spend the night at the house, in order to be ready to catch the early train. Emerson applied himself to writing up his professional journal, while I labeled and sorted the artifacts that had been found. Sometimes, though, when I looked up from my work, I saw him sitting with idle hands staring at the paper in front of him, as if his mind had wandered far from his work. I went to bed early. Emerson did not come up with me, nor did he rouse me, as he usually did, when he joined me later.

The zenith was still dark when I was awakened by a surrept.i.tious sound below, but the faint pallor of the eastern sky showed that dawn was not far distant. Carefully I crawled to the edge of the roof and looked down.

The sound I had heard was that of the door being softly opened and closed. I expected to see a diminutive form creeping out on some unimaginable errand, but the shadow that stole toward the gate was that of a man. I had no difficulty in realizing it must be Donald.

I did not waken Emerson. When roused suddenly from profound slumber he makes loud noises and strikes people. It took only a moment to slip into the garments I had laid out ready for the morning, and to seize my trusty parasol. I did not take my belt of tools, for I feared their rattling would arouse Emerson and make the surrept.i.tious pursuit I contemplated impossible. As it was, the parasol caught my foot as I was climbing down the wall and caused me to fall rather heavily. Luckily the earthen surface m.u.f.fled the thud. I reminded myself that in future, should such a descent become necessary, I had better drop the parasol down before descending myself.

Donald had left the gate slightly ajar. Slipping through it, I looked in vain for him, and feared he had escaped me. However, I had some idea where he might be going. As I dressed I had remembered a statement of his brother's the day before. That rambling, sentimental speech had not been so pointless as I had believed; for in reminiscing about childhood days, Ronald had suggested an a.s.signation, hoping Donald would overhear. He had obviously known Donald was among us, even as he had been aware of Enid's presence. How he had come by this information was a matter of some concern, but I did not waste time speculating on it. With any luck, I would soon be in a position to ask him point-blank, for I felt sure Donald was going to meet his brother on the reedy bank of the ca.n.a.l, near the place where the latter had been shooting.

The sky lightened and the rim of the rising sun peeped over the hills. I followed the path along the dike that skirted the village, for I a.s.sumed that Donald would want to avoid being seen. Sounds of activity and the acrid smell of woodsmoke from the cooking fires were already to be discerned, for, like all primitive people, the villagers rose with the sun. peeped over the hills. I followed the path along the dike that skirted the village, for I a.s.sumed that Donald would want to avoid being seen. Sounds of activity and the acrid smell of woodsmoke from the cooking fires were already to be discerned, for, like all primitive people, the villagers rose with the sun.

I had not gone far when I saw the young man ahead of me. A few others were abroad by then, and at first glance one might have taken him for an industrious farmer heading for the fields. It was obvious that he thought he had left the house un.o.bserved, for he did not look back. However, I took the precaution of concealing myself behind a small donkey loaded with sugar cane, which was going in the same direction.

Finally Donald left the path and plunged into the lush green growth between the ca.n.a.l and the river. I had to abandon my donkey, but the reeds and coa.r.s.e gra.s.s sheltered me so long as I moved with my back bent over. At last Donald stopped. I crept forward and crouched behind a clump of weeds.

Donald made no attempt to conceal himself. On the contrary, he straightened to his full height and removed his turban. The sun's brazen orb had lifted full above the horizon and its rays edged his form with a rim of gold. His st.u.r.dy shape, the sharp outline of his profile, and above all the red-gold of his hair rendered him a prominent object.

I could not help recalling Emerson's insistence on the red hair of the G.o.d Set. Had I been misled after all by a consummate actor simulating the role of an innocent, wronged young Englishman? Impossible! And yet- what if Sethos were not one brother, but both? His seemingly uncanny ability to accomplish more than an ordinary mortal could achieve would thus be explained.

Yet the other half of the persona (if my latest theory was indeed correct) failed to make an appearance. Donald was as puzzled by his brother's absence as was I. He scratched his head and looked from side to side. was indeed correct) failed to make an appearance. Donald was as puzzled by his brother's absence as was I. He scratched his head and looked from side to side.

A violent agitation in the reeds made him turn. I was not the source of the disturbance; it came from some distance to my rear. However, it had the unhappy effect of turning his eye in my direction, and the screen of weeds proved too frail a barrier for concealment. In two long strides he had reached my hiding place and plucked me out of it. He had not expected to see me. Astonishment contorted his face, and his hand fell from my collar.

"Mrs. Emerson! What the devil are you doing here?"

"I might ask you the same thing," I replied, tucking my waist back into the band of my s.h.i.+rt. "At least I might if I did not know the answer. Your brother's message was heard and understood by me. However, it appears that he has been delayed. What was the hour of the rendezvous?"

"Sunrise," Donald replied. "That was the hour at which we were accustomed to go to the marsh to shoot. Please go back, Mrs. Emerson. If he wants to speak privately with me, he won't make his presence known so long as you are here."

I was about to acquiesce, or appear to-for of course I had no intention of leaving until I had heard what the brothers had to say to one another. Before I could so much as nod, a disconcerting thing happened. Something whizzed through the air a few inches over my head with an angry buzzing sound. A split second later I heard the sound of the explosion. A second and third shot followed.

With a stifled cry Donald clapped his hand to his head and collapsed. So startled was I by this untoward event that I failed to move quickly enough, and I was borne to the ground by the weight of Donald's body. to the ground by the weight of Donald's body.

The ground was soft, but the impact drove the breath from my lungs, and when I attempted to free myself from the dead weight upon me I was unable to move. I hoped the figure of speech was only that, and not a description of fact, but the utter inertness of his limbs aroused the direst forebodings. Nor was my apprehension relieved by the sensation of something wet and sticky trickling down my cheek. I felt no pain, so I knew the blood must be Donald's.

I was trying to turn him over when I heard the rustling of foliage. Someone was approaching! I feared it was the murderer, coming to ascertain whether his foul deed had been accomplished, and I struggled to free myself. Then the weight holding me down was removed, and I heard a voice cry out in extreme agitation.

"Donald! My dearest-my darling-speak to me! Oh G.o.d, he is dead, he is slain!"

I raised myself to a sitting position. Enid sat on the ground, all unaware of the mud that soaked her skirt. With the strength of love and desperation she had lifted the unconscious man so that his head lay on her breast. Her blouse and her little hands were dabbled with his blood, which was flowing copiously from a wound on his forehead.

"Put him down at once, you ninny," I said.

For all the attention she paid me, I might not have been there at all. She went on moaning and showering kisses on his tumbled hair.

I was still short of breath but I forced myself to crawl toward them. "Lower his head, Enid," I ordered. "You ought not to have lifted him."

"He is dead," Enid cried repet.i.tiously. "Dead-and it is all my fault. Now he will never know how I loved him!"

Donald's eyes flew open. "Say it again, Enid!"

Joy and relief, shame and confusion stained her lovely, tear-streaked face with a glory as of sunrise. "I-I-" she began.

"Say no more," Donald exclaimed. With an agility that belied his encrimsoned visage, he freed himself from her embrace, and took her into his. She made but a feeble attempt to resist; his masterful manner overcame her scruples, and when I left them-as I did almost at once-I had no doubt that he would prevail. I also had no doubt but that my lecture on the subject of firmness had had the desired effect, and I congratulated myself on bringing this romantic confusion to a satisfactory end.

I had not gone far before I heard sounds indicative of haste and alarm. The sounds of haste were produced by a heavy body cras.h.i.+ng through the reeds; the sounds of alarm were those of a well-loved voice raised to its fullest extent, which, as I have had occasion to remark, is considerable.

I answered, and Emerson soon stood face to face with me. He had dressed in such haste that his s.h.i.+rt was b.u.t.toned askew and hung out of his trousers. Upon recognizing me, he rushed forward, tripping over his dangling bootlaces, and lifted me in his arms.

"Peabody! Good Gad, it is as I feared-you are wounded! You are covered with blood! Don't try to talk, Peabody. I will carry you home. A doctor-a surgeon-"

"I am not wounded, Emerson. It is not my blood you see, but Donald's."

Emerson set me on my feet with a thud that jarred my teeth painfully together. "In that case," he said, "you can d.a.m.ned well walk. How dare you, Peabody?"

His angry voice and furious scowl touched me no less than his tender concern had done, for I knew they were prompted by the same affection. I took his arm. "We may as well go back to the house," I said. "Donald and Enid will follow at their leisure." than his tender concern had done, for I knew they were prompted by the same affection. I took his arm. "We may as well go back to the house," I said. "Donald and Enid will follow at their leisure."

"Donald? Oh, yes. I a.s.sume he is not seriously wounded, for if he were, you would be dosing him and bandaging him and generally driving him out of his mind."

"I suppose you followed Enid," I said. "And she followed me, and I followed Donald.... How ridiculous we must have appeared!"

"You may call it ridiculous," Emerson growled, holding my hand tightly in his. "I would call it something else, but I cannot find words strong enough to express my opinion of your callous disregard for every basic marital responsibility. How do you suppose I felt when I woke to find you gone, and saw a female form slip out of the gate? I thought it was you. I could not imagine why you should creep from my side unless- unless..."

Emotion overcame him. He began to swear.

"You must have realized that only the sternest necessity could have moved me to such a step, Emerson. I would have written a note, but there was not time."

"There was time to wake me, though."

"No, for then explanations would have been necessary, delaying me even longer."

I proceeded to render the explanations. Emerson's face lightened a trifle as he listened, but he shook his head. "It was extremely foolhardy of you, Peabody. For all you knew, you were walking into a conference of desperate criminals. You did not even take your belt of tools."

"I had my parasol, Emerson."

"A parasol, though an admirable weapon-as I have been privileged to observe-is not much defense against a pistol, Peabody. Those were pistol shots I heard." been privileged to observe-is not much defense against a pistol, Peabody. Those were pistol shots I heard."

"They were, Emerson. As you know, the sound is quite different from the report of a rifle or shotgun. And Donald may thank heaven it was a hand weapon, for at such close range only a very poor shot could have missed with a rifle."

Emerson stopped and looked back. "Here they come-positively intertwined, upon my word. I take it an understanding has been arrived at."

"It was most touching, Emerson. Believing him dead or mortally wounded, Enid confessed the profound attachment she had kept hidden-though not, I hardly need say, from me. It is a great relief to have it all settled."

"I would say it is far from settled," remarked Emerson. "Unless you can clear the young lady of a charge of murder and the young man of embezzlement or fraud or forgery, or whatever it may have been, their hopes of spending a long and happy life together do not appear prosperous."

"But that is precisely why we are going to Cairo today. Do hurry, Emerson, or we will miss the train."

Thanks to my organizational talents we did not miss the train, but it was a near thing, and not until we had settled ourselves in the carriage did we have a chance to discuss the morning's interesting events. To my astonishment I learned that Emerson did not share my belief as to the ident.i.ty of the concealed marksman.

"But there is no other possible explanation," I insisted. "The Master Criminal is still seeking a scapegoat for the murder of Kalenischeff. Furthermore, Donald has on several occasions foiled his attacks on us. Naturally, Sethos would resent his interference. Or-here is another attractive idea, Emerson-perhaps it was not Donald but my humble self at whom the bullet was aimed."

"If that is your notion of an attractive idea, I shudder to think what you would call horrible," Emerson grumbled. "You were not the target of the a.s.sa.s.sin, Amelia. In fact, the whole business is unaccountable. It makes no sense."

"Aha," I exclaimed. "You have a theory, Emerson."

"Naturally, Peabody."

"Excellent. We have one of those amiable little compet.i.tions of ours, to see who can guess-deduce, I meant to say-the solution to this most perplexing mystery. For I feel sure," I added, with an affectionate smile, "that our opinions do not coincide."

"They never have yet, Peabody."

"Would you care to disclose to me your reading of the matter thus far?"

"I would not." Emerson brooded in silence, his rugged profile reminding me of the Byronic heroes so popular in some forms of literature. The dark hair tumbling on his brow, the lowering frown, the grim set of his mouth were extremely affecting. At least they affected me, and had there not been a dour old lady sharing the compartment with us, I might have demonstrated my feelings. As it was, I had to content myself with looking at him.

Emerson went on brooding and finally I decided to break the silence, which was getting monotonous. "I don't understand why you find this morning's events puzzling, Emerson. It is obvious to the meanest intelligence that the-that Sethos used a pistol instead of a rifle because he hoped to make Donald's death look like suicide. Donald would have been found with the weapon in his hand, and a suicide note in the other- for I have no doubt that the genius of crime could reproduce his handwriting." weapon in his hand, and a suicide note in the other- for I have no doubt that the genius of crime could reproduce his handwriting."

"Oh, yes," Emerson said bitterly. "You wouldn't be surprised to see him sprout wings like a bat and flap off across Cairo, spouting lyric poetry as he flies."

"Lyric poetry?" I repeated, genuinely perplexed.

"Merely a flight of fancy, Amelia. Your theory of a false suicide falls apart on one simple fact. You were there."

"Suicide and murder, then," I said promptly. "Sethos would not be balked by a little matter like that, and I am sure he would shed no tears over my demise."

Again Emerson shook his head. "You astonish me, Peabody. Can it be possible that you fail to see ... Well, but if the truth has not dawned on you, I don't want to put ideas into your head."

And he would say no more, question him as I might.

Eleven.

Emerson was more forthcoming when I asked precisely what he intended to do in Cairo. "For it is all very well," I added, "to talk vaguely of getting on the trail of Sethos, but without any notion of where to start, it will be difficult to find a trail, much less follow it."

My tone was somewhat acerbic, for Emerson's refusal to confide in me had wounded me deeply. He appeared not to notice my annoyance, but replied amicably, "I am glad you raised that question, Peabody. I have two approaches in mind. First, we must inquire of official sources what they know of this villain. We have a legitimate reason to demand information, since we have cause to suppose ourselves threatened by him.

"I have greater hopes, however, of my second approach-to wit, my acquaintances in the underworld of Cairene crime. I would not be surprised to discover that even Sethos' chief lieutenants are unaware of his true ident.i.ty; however, by putting together bits and sc.r.a.ps and odds and ends, we may be able to construct a clue." ident.i.ty; however, by putting together bits and sc.r.a.ps and odds and ends, we may be able to construct a clue."

"Good, Emerson. Precisely the approach I was about to suggest."

"Humph," said Emerson. "Have you any other suggestions, Peabody?"

"I could hardly improve on your ideas, Emerson. However, it has occurred to me to start from the other end, so to speak."

"I don't follow you, Peabody."

"I mean that instead of gathering more information, we should pursue the few facts we already have. I am convinced it was Sethos himself who brought the communion vessels to our room. And we know that he or one of his hired a.s.sa.s.sins was in the hotel on the night of Kalenischeff's murder. I propose to question and, if necessary, bribe or threaten, the servants who were on duty upon those occasions."

"Of course you know the police have questioned them already."

"Oh yes, but they won't have told the police anything. There is a reluctance among people of that cla.s.s in all countries to cooperate with the police."

"True. Anything else?"

"Yes, one other thing. Has it occurred to you that if Ronald Fraser is not Sethos himself, he may be involved with the gang?"

"Oddly enough, that had occurred to me," Emerson replied, fingering the dimple in his chin. "Or, if not Ronald, then Donald. Curse these people," he added, "why can't they have distinctive names? I keep mixing them up."

"I am sure we can eliminate Donald, Emerson. He was with me this morning, and it was a miracle he was not killed."

"What better alibi could there be?" Emerson demanded. "If he is Sethos, he could instruct a confederate to fire at him and miss-as indeed he did."

"He couldn't know I would awaken and follow him, Emerson."

"That isn't why you want to eliminate him, Peabody," Emerson grumbled. "You have a pernicious weakness for young lovers."

"Nonsense, Emerson. I eliminate Donald on purely logical grounds. We both heard Ronald Fraser ask his brother to meet him; as Donald explained to me, the reference was to a place where they had been accustomed to meet as children. How did Ronald learn the whereabouts of his brother, and of Enid, unless he is in touch with that mysterious personage who knows all and sees all? And how did Sethos know Donald would be by the river at dawn unless Ronald told him?"

"Curse it, Peabody, you have a positive genius for overlooking the obvious! It is because you are obsessed with this villain. You see him everywhere and credit him with well-nigh supernatural powers!"

"Really, Emerson-"

"The simplest and most obvious explanation," Emerson continued angrily, "is that Ronald tried to kill his brother. An act of purely private villainy, Peabody, with not a Master Criminal in sight! Why Ronald should hate Donald I do not know, but there are several possibilities-an inheritance, or rivalry for the hand of the young lady, for instance. People do kill people for the most ridiculous reasons."