Lion In The Valley Part 2

"I presume you jest, Emerson. You know perfectly well why I want the vessels. They are to replace the ones the Master Criminal stole from the church at Dronkeh last year. The distress of the poor Sheikh El Beled touched my heart; we cannot restore the originals, so I thought I would get him another set. I don't suppose you even looked for one."

"Antique Coptic religious objects are not easily found, even in the bazaars of Cairo," Emerson retorted. "It is all a ridiculous waste of time anyway. Why didn't you just bring along a set of bathroom utensils from the Penny Bazaar?"

I ignored this churlish remark, being accustomed to Emerson's unorthodox religious views. However, when he reached for his trousers I was moved to remonstrate. "Not those trousers, Emerson. I have laid out your evening clothes. A tweed suit is-"

"The only attire appropriate for climbing the Great Pyramid, Peabody. You wouldn't want me to spoil my only set of evening clothes, would you?"

"Climb the pyramid? In the dark?"

"The moon is at the full, as you know. There will be adequate light, I a.s.sure you, and the view from the top of the Cheops Pyramid is an experience not to be missed. I had planned it as a treat for you, my dear, but if you prefer to deck yourself out in a regalia like the one that young woman wore today ... On my word, she resembled nothing so much as a pouter pigeon, and I fully expected her to flap up into the air."

Having recognized the logic of his argument, I prepared to a.s.sume one of my working costumes, a tasteful ensemble of purple tweed trousers and a lavender-and-white-checked jacket, with a matching parasol. I am seldom without a parasol. It is one of the most generally useful objects an individual can possess, and I knew I would be glad of its a.s.sistance in the capacity of a walking stick that evening, for the terrain surrounding the pyramids is quite uneven. However, I felt obliged to protest Emerson's a.s.sessment of Miss Debenham's gown. protest Emerson's a.s.sessment of Miss Debenham's gown.

"Like all men, Emerson, you have no sense of style, I admit the gown was a trifle extreme, but it was lovely, I must ask Miss Debenham-" Emerson interrupted my speech by planting his lips firmly on mine, removing them to murmur, "You require no such artificial adornments, Peabody. You never look lovelier to me than in your working trousers and s.h.i.+rtwaist, with a strip of sunburn across your nose and your hair straggling out of its net. No, allow me to revise that. You are even lovelier when you are not wearing-"

I placed my hand over his mouth to prevent the completion of the sentence, for I felt again the tingling that preceded Ramses' advent. Sure enough, I heard the familiar voice: "May I come in now, Papa?"

'Yes, come in," I replied, stepping away from Emerson.

"I wished to ask, Mama, what I should wear," said Ramses.

'I had intended you should wear your black velvet suit."

Ramses' countenance, which seldom displayed emotion of any kind, darkened visibly. The wearing of the black velvet suit was one of the few things that stirred him to open rebellion. I could not imagine why the boy felt so strongly about it; with its pretty lace collar and ruffled s.h.i.+rt, it was a perfectly appropriate costume for a lad his age. (Though I must admit it did not suit Ramses' swarthy, aquiline face and black curls as it would have done had his coloring been more typically English.) I was forced to give way on this occasion, since the havoc that would have been wreaked on black velvet by an ascent of the pyramid would ruin the suit. A thoughtful expression crossed Ramses' face when I expressed this opinion, but he did not, as I had half-expected, offer to wear the suit after all. by an ascent of the pyramid would ruin the suit. A thoughtful expression crossed Ramses' face when I expressed this opinion, but he did not, as I had half-expected, offer to wear the suit after all.

Two.

Mena House, at the foot of the Giza plateau, had been open only a few years, but its exceptional location had made it one of the most popular hotels in the environs of Cairo. It had been designed to look like an old English manor house on the outside, but the Oriental style prevailed within. A web of soft lights, suspended from the high domed ceiling of the dining salon, created an aura of mystery and magic. Mr. and Mrs. Locke, the owners, had purchased a number of the beautiful antique mashrabiya screens, which added appreciably to the charm of the room.

We were the only guests not in full evening dress, and several people stared rudely as we were escorted to our table by Mr. Locke himself. "Good Gad, how people gape," Emerson remarked. "I don't know what has happened to good old-fas.h.i.+oned manners. One would think there was something peculiar about our appearance." think there was something peculiar about our appearance."

"You and Mrs. Emerson are well known," Mr. Locke said tactfully. "People always stare at celebrities."

"Ha," said Emerson. "No doubt you are right, Locke. But it is still bad manners."

I had hoped we might encounter some of our archaeological friends, but I saw no one we knew. Not until I was studying the menu in order to select a sweet for Ramses did I hear a diffident voice murmur my name. I looked up to see a familiar face smiling down at me. It was young Howard Carter; he was happy to accept my invitation to join us for coffee. After greeting Ramses and paying his respectful homage to Emerson, he explained that he had come to Cairo on business and had taken the opportunity to run out to Giza in order to enjoy the moonlight over the pyramids.

"Don't tell Professor Naville," he added, with his amiable grin. "I am supposed to be working."

"Are you still at Thebes with Naville?" I asked. "I thought the excavations at Hatasu's temple were finished."

"The excavations, yes. But we have a good deal of recording and restoring yet to do."

"I can well believe that," said Emerson. "By the time Naville finishes an excavation, it would require a psychic to make sense of the mess."

"You sound like my old mentor Petrie," said Carter with a smile.

From the chagrin on Emerson's face I could see he had forgotten the feud between Naville and Petrie. Emerson had been in a quandary as to which side to take (it would have been against his nature to remain neutral). He shared Petrie's poor opinion of Naville's qualifications, but he hated to agree with his chief rival. He subsided, scowling, as the young Englishman rattled on cheerfully, "Petrie is a splendid teacher, and I will always be grateful to him, but he is too hard on M. Naville. The latter's methods are sometimes a trifle hasty-" shared Petrie's poor opinion of Naville's qualifications, but he hated to agree with his chief rival. He subsided, scowling, as the young Englishman rattled on cheerfully, "Petrie is a splendid teacher, and I will always be grateful to him, but he is too hard on M. Naville. The latter's methods are sometimes a trifle hasty-"

Emerson could contain himself no longer. "Hasty!" he cried. "Is it true that he has used the old quarry as his dump site? Well, he is a bloo-er-blooming idiot, then, for there are undoubtedly tombs in the quarry which he has buried under tons of dirt."

Mr. Carter thought it advisable to change the subject, a decision with which I heartily concurred. "Congratulations on obtaining the firman for Dahshoor," he said. "It was the talk of the archaeological community when de Morgan gave it up to you. Petrie has speculated endlessly as to how you accomplished it; he tried several times to get Dahshoor, but was not successful."

I carefully avoided looking at Ramses. Emerson stroked his chin and smiled complacently. "All that was required was the application of a little tact, my boy. Petrie is an admirable fellow in some ways, but he lacks tact. He is at Sakkara this year?"

"His a.s.sistant, Quibell, is there, copying tomb inscriptions," Carter said. He smiled at me. "There are several young ladies on his staff this year. You will have to share your laurels with others of your delightful s.e.x, Mrs. Emerson. The ladies are coming into their own at last."

"Bravo," I cried heartily. "Or, to be more precise, brava!"

"Quite so," said Carter. "Petrie himself has gone on to Karnak, where the others will join him later. I saw him before I left; and I am sure he would have sent his regards had he known I would have the pleasure of encountering you." regards had he known I would have the pleasure of encountering you."

This polite statement was so patently false, it failed to convince even the speaker. He hurried on, "And Mr. Cyrus Vandergelt-he is another of our neighbors. He often speaks of you, Professor, and of Mrs. Emerson."

"I am sure he does." Emerson shot me a suspicious glance. Mr. Vandergelt's roughhewn but sincere American gallantry toward members of the opposite s.e.x (opposite to his, I mean) had always annoyed Emerson. He suspects every man who pays me a compliment of having romantic designs upon me. I cannot disabuse him of this notion, which has, I admit, its engaging qualities.

"Perhaps you ought to consider working for Mr. Vandergelt, Howard," I suggested. "He is a generous patron."

"He did approach me," Carter admitted. "But I don't know that I would like to work for a wealthy dilettante, however keen his interest in Egyptology. These fellows only want to find treasure and lost tombs."

Carter refused our invitation to join us in climbing the pyramid, claiming he had work to do before retiring. So we bade him good night, and, leaving the pleasant gardens of Mena House behind, we started up the slope toward the pyramids.

Words fail me when I attempt to describe the grandeur of the scene. The swollen orb of the full moon hung in the sky, resembling the disks of beaten gold that had crowned the queens of this antique land. Her radiance flooded the landscape, silvering the mighty pyramids and casting eerie shadows over the enigmatic features of the Sphinx, so that he seemed to smile cynically at the insignificant human creatures crawling around his base. The sand lay white as fallen snow, broken only by ebon shadows that betokened the presence of a vandalized tomb or sunken shrine. around his base. The sand lay white as fallen snow, broken only by ebon shadows that betokened the presence of a vandalized tomb or sunken shrine.

Unfortunately this magnificent spectacle was marred by the presence of the vociferous insect Man. Flaring torches and crawling human bodies spotted the pale sides of the Great Pyramid, and the night echoed with the shouts of travelers who ought to have remained reverently silent in the presence of such wonders. The voice of one visitor blessed with a mighty set of vocal cords rang out above the rest: "Hey, Mabel, looka me!"

Mabel's response, if any, was lost in the night, but there came a peal of scornful laughter from near at hand. A carriage had drawn up-the same open carriage I had seen leave Shepheard's earlier. Miss Debenham had changed to an evening frock of white satin. Her bare arms and breast glowed like ivory in the moonlight, and as she turned to address her companion, diamonds flashed in the ebony darkness of her hair. Kalenischeff was a study in black and white. The ribbon of some (probably apocryphal) order, cutting across the front of his s.h.i.+rt, had been robbed of its color by the moonlight, and looked like a bar sinister.

Impulsively I started toward them, but before I had taken more than a few steps Kalenischeff whipped up the horses and the carriage continued along the dusty road toward the top of the plateau.

"Imbeciles," said Emerson. "I am sorry we came, Peabody. I might have known every ignorant tourist in Cairo would be here tonight. Shall we make the attempt, or return to the hotel?"

"We may as well go on now we are here," I replied. "Ramses, you are to stay with us. Don't stir so much as a step from my side."

The self-styled guides, antiquities peddlers and miscellaneous beggars were out in full force. They came pelting toward us with offers of a.s.sistance, and of dubious scarabs. The usual ratio of a.s.sistants is three to each tourist-two pull from above and one pushes from below. It is an awkward and quite unnecessary procedure, since few of the steplike blocks are as high as three and a half feet.

The a.s.sault halted as soon as the sheikh in nominal charge of the horde recognized Emerson, whom he greeted with the "Essaldmu 'aleik.u.m" "Essaldmu 'aleik.u.m" generally reserved by Moslems for others of their faith, Emerson replied in kind, but refused Sheikh Abu's offer of men to drag him up the pyramid. He was quite capable of giving me a hand whenever necessary, but we did hire two men to hoist Ramses from step to step, his short legs making such an expedient advisable. generally reserved by Moslems for others of their faith, Emerson replied in kind, but refused Sheikh Abu's offer of men to drag him up the pyramid. He was quite capable of giving me a hand whenever necessary, but we did hire two men to hoist Ramses from step to step, his short legs making such an expedient advisable.

After a lazy summer doing little except riding, gardening, hiking and bicycling, I was a trifle out of condition, and was glad of Emerson's strong hand from time to time. Although it had appeared from below that the slope was crowded with people, it was not really a populous thoroughfare. We pa.s.sed one or two other groups, several of whom had paused to rest along the way. From time to time I heard the voice of Ramses, carrying on an interminable, if breathless, conversation with his guides.

The pyramidion and the upper courses of the monument have been removed, leaving on the summit a flat table some thirty feet square. Upon the blocks scattered here and there, a number of the successful climbers sprawled in various positions of collapse. Instinctively avoiding them, we moved to one side.

I had climbed the pyramid before, but never at night. The view, spectacular at any time, is simply magical under the spell of moonlight. To the east, the Nile glimmered like a ribbon of dark crystal beyond the still meadows, where the silhouettes of the palms stood black against the sky. Far beyond sparkled and flickered the myriad lights of Cairo. But it was southward that our eyes turned, to see beyond the snowy stretch of silent sand the remains of the ancient cemeteries of the once mighty capital of Memphis. There lay our season's destiny-two tiny points of pale stone, marking the pyramids of Dahshoor.

Such emotion filled me that I was incapable of speech, a condition a.s.sisted by a distinct shortness of breath-for Emerson's strong arm clasped me tightly. We stood in silence, ensorcelled by the magic of the night.

I lost all track of time as we gazed. It might have been ten seconds or ten minutes before I let out my pent breath in a long sigh, and turned to address Ramses.

He was gone.

My first reaction was to doubt the evidence of my senses. Ramses excels in losing himself, but it hardly seemed possible that he could have vanished off a small platform four hundred and fifty feet in the air without some sort of commotion. Emerson noted his absence at the same time and was unable-or, what is more likely, disinclined-to repress a bellow of alarm.

"Peabody! Where is Ramses?"

"He must be here somewhere," I began.

"I thought you were watching him. Oh, good Gad!" He threw his head back and shouted at the top of his lungs. "Ramses! Ramses, where are you?"

When p.r.o.nounced in such peremptory tones, Ramses' name never fails to attract attention, particularly in Egypt, where it inevitably suggests the summoning, not of a small disobedient English boy, but of the ghost of the most famous of ancient Egyptian pharaohs. One of the stouter ladies fell off the block on which she was sitting, and several others sprang to their feet with cries of alarm and outrage. Emerson began das.h.i.+ng around the platform, looking behind blocks of stone and ladies' skirts, to the increasing annoyance of the persons concerned. of a small disobedient English boy, but of the ghost of the most famous of ancient Egyptian pharaohs. One of the stouter ladies fell off the block on which she was sitting, and several others sprang to their feet with cries of alarm and outrage. Emerson began das.h.i.+ng around the platform, looking behind blocks of stone and ladies' skirts, to the increasing annoyance of the persons concerned.

One gentleman had the courtesy to approach me and offer a.s.sistance. He was a portly, round-cheeked American with a bristling white mustache and hair of the same shade, as the prompt removal of his hat disclosed.

"I can't quite make out what it is you're after, ma'am," he said politely. "But if Caleb T. Clausheimer can be of any a.s.sistance-"

"What I am after, sir, is a small boy."

"A small boy name of Ramses? Thunder and lightning, ma'am, but that's a curious name for a youngster! Seems to me I did see a boy here a while back...."

I thanked him abstractedly and hastened to Emerson, who was peering over the edge of the platform. "He has fallen off, Peabody. Curse it! Curse it! I will never forgive myself. I should have tied him to me with a rope as I usually do; I should have-"

"Emerson, calm yourself. He can't have fallen off. It is not a straight drop; we would have heard him bounce from step to step, and surely even Ramses would have emitted a cry on finding himself falling. No, he has started down by himself, heaven only knows why. I strictly forbade him to leave us-"

Emerson rushed to the north side of the platform and looked down that face of the pyramid. It was deep in shadow, but Emerson's eyes, keen as an eagle's, were further strengthened by the desperation of paternal affection. He let out a hoa.r.s.e shriek. "There, Peabody-there, do you see? Two thirds of the way down, on the left. Are those not Ramses' guides? And does not one of them appear strangely hump-backed?"

I could only make out the glimmer of the white robes the Egyptians wore. They resembled a patch of moonlight that was gliding down the weathered stones. There was certainly a group of people there-how many, I could not make out-and they were the only climbers on that side of the pyramid, since for obvious reasons the others preferred the lighted sides.

"I can't tell who they are, Emerson, nor can I determine-"

But I addressed empty air. Emerson had flung himself over the edge and was bounding down the giant staircase like a man possessed. I immediately hastened to follow him, though at a more discreet pace.

By the time I reached the bottom and found myself ankle-deep in sand, Emerson was nowhere to be seen. I consoled myself by the fact that his body was nowhere to be seen either, so I could a.s.sume he had reached the bottom unharmed.

It may seem to the reader that I was more concerned for my spouse than for my son and heir. This was indeed the case. I had long since given up worrying about Ramses, not because of lack of affection (my feelings for the boy were those of any mother of an eight-year-old son), but because I had worn out my stock of worry on that subject. By the time he was five, Ramses had been in more sc.r.a.pes than most people encounter over a long lifetime, and I had expended more nervous energy over him than most mothers expend on a family of twelve. I had no more to give. Furthermore-though I would be ashamed to confess such irrational thoughts except in the pages of my private journal-I had developed an almost superst.i.tious confidence in Ramses' ability not only to survive disasters of truly horrendous proportions, but to emerge from them undamaged and undaunted. ability not only to survive disasters of truly horrendous proportions, but to emerge from them undamaged and undaunted.

Not knowing what direction Emerson had taken, I set off toward the northeast corner of the pyramid. There was no one about; tourists and guides alike preferred the lighted areas. I had almost reached the corner when a cry, faint but pervasive, echoed through the night: "Ra-a-a-mses!"

"Curse it," I thought. "He has gone the other way." Instead of turning, I continued on the same path, for we would inevitably meet in the course of time, and in the process we would have circled (if such a word can be used of a structure whose base forms a perfect square) the pyramid.

The Giza pyramids are only the most conspicuous of the ancient tombs that honeycomb the surface of the plateau. The sand around me was dimpled and scarred by traces of the underlying structures. It was necessary to pick one's way carefully for fear of tumbling into an open tomb chamber or tripping over a fallen block of stone, so my progress was somewhat deliberate. As I was running over in my mind the things I would say to Ramses when I found him-and I had no doubt I would eventually-I heard the sounds of an altercation. At first I could not make out whence came the thumps and grunts and m.u.f.fled cries, for such noises carry quite a distance in the clear desert air. Not until I looked back did I see a telltale flutter of draperies. The wearers seemed to be in rapid retreat, and they soon disappeared behind one of the small subsidiary pyramids-appurtenances of the Great Pyramid near which they are situated.

I set out in pursuit, my parasol at the ready, though I feared I had slight chance of catching up with the guides, if indeed that was who they were. Nor was it at all certain that Ramses was with them. However, the most logical theory was that, for reasons known only unto himself, he had persuaded the men to take him back down the pyramid in pursuit of heaven only knew what objective. Ramses always had reasons for his actions, but they were seldom readily perceptible to rational persons. guides, if indeed that was who they were. Nor was it at all certain that Ramses was with them. However, the most logical theory was that, for reasons known only unto himself, he had persuaded the men to take him back down the pyramid in pursuit of heaven only knew what objective. Ramses always had reasons for his actions, but they were seldom readily perceptible to rational persons.

My progress was impeded by frequent falls, for I was still in the shadow and could not make out the outlines of objects scattered about. Picking myself up after one such tumble, I beheld a sight both alarming and astonis.h.i.+ng, and yet one that was not without a degree of rea.s.surance. The white-robed form some little distance ahead looked spectral in that eerie ambiance, but I knew it must be one of the guides. In its arms, held close to its breast, was a small, darker form. The limbs of this latter being were in agitated motion and my ears made out the unmistakable tones of Ramses, demanding, with his usual prolixity of speech, to be put down.

With the instantaneous mental agility on which I pride myself, I revised my earlier theory of the reason for Ramses' failure to obey my orders. It now seemed clear that he was being held against his will. Perhaps that condition had prevailed from the first-though how the guides had whisked him away without causing some comment from Ramses or from the tourists, I could not imagine. However, that was a matter best left for later investigation. Ramses' liberation was the first thing to be attended to, and I proceeded to attend to it, raising myself to my feet and rus.h.i.+ng forward at considerable speed.

The man who held Ramses was, as I a.s.sumed, struck motionless with terror at the sight of me. He made no attempt to flee. I brought my parasol down on his head as hard as I could. attempt to flee. I brought my parasol down on his head as hard as I could.

The kidnapper gave an anguished cry and clapped both hands to his head, dropping Ramses, who fell facedown in the sand. Realizing that the folds of the turban had lessened the effect of the blow I intended, I quickly s.h.i.+fted my grasp on the handle of the parasol and rammed the steel tip into the fellow's midsection. He toppled over onto his back. I was stepping briskly forward to administer the coup de grace when two small hands wrapped round my ankle and sent me staggering. Only the deft reversal of the parasol and its forward thrust against a rock outcropping kept me on my feet.

I turned on Ramses with a reproachful cry. "Curse you, Ramses, what are you doing? This wretch abducted you-at least I hope for your sake he did, for if you went with him of your own free will-"

"I was attempting to prevent you from an action you would most a.s.suredly regret, Mama," said Ramses. He paused to spit out a mouthful of sand before continuing, "Dis man-"

"Watch your diphthongs, Ramses." His adversary appeared to have been rendered unconscious, for he lay quite still. I kept a watchful eye on him, parasol raised, while Ramses went on with his explanation.

"Yes, Mama. This man was not my abductor but my rescuer. It was he who saved me from the persons who carried me off from the top of, and down the side of, the pyramid, with, I might add, some risk to himself, for both my a.s.sailants were armed, one with the long knife that is locally known as a sikkineh, sikkineh, and the other-" and the other-"

"Never mind all that. Hmmm. Are you certain that ... But I suppose you could hardly be mistaken. Why were you struggling then? I would not have been so precipitate had I not feared for your safety, since it certainly appeared you were attempting to free yourself from a captor's grasp." precipitate had I not feared for your safety, since it certainly appeared you were attempting to free yourself from a captor's grasp."

"I wanted him to put me down," said Ramses.

"I see. Well, that makes sense." I stopped to look more closely at the rec.u.mbent man. I could make little of his features in the dark, but my nostrils caught traces of an odd smell, sweet and cloying. I stepped back in instinctive disgust. "Opium! The man is a drug addict!"

"One might reasonably draw that conclusion," said Ramses judiciously. "Is he dead?''

"Certainly not."

"I am glad of that," Ramses remarked. "It would be a poor return for his services to me; and his personal habits are not a matter of concern to us, particularly in view of-"

"Do hush for a moment, Ramses. I hear your father approaching. He certainly sets a rapid pace! Call out to him, if you please, or he will go on circ.u.mnavigating the pyramid indefinitely."

Ramses obeyed. The far-off wails of Emerson, repeating Ramses' name in mournful accents, took on new poignancy. Ramses called again. The two of them exchanged outcries until Emerson burst upon the scene and flung himself at his son. I heard the breath go out of Ramses' lungs in an explosive whoosh as his father seized him, and knowing that Emerson would be incapable of reasoned speech for several moments, I turned my attention back to Ramses' presumed rescuer.

The sickening smell of opium again a.s.sailed my nostrils as I bent over him, but I conquered my repugnance and reached down to remove his turban that I might better ascertain the extent of the damage I had done the fellow's head. As my hand went out, the man started convulsively, flinging his arms over his face.

"Matekhafsh, habib," I said rea.s.suringly. "Do not be afraid. It was in error that I struck; the child has told me of your courage." I said rea.s.suringly. "Do not be afraid. It was in error that I struck; the child has told me of your courage."

At first there was no reply. Then from under the ragged folds of cloth came a m.u.f.fled voice. "Let me go, sitt. I did nothing. I want nothing, only to be left alone."

"Wallahi-el azim, by G.o.d the great, I mean you no harm. Indeed, I wish to reward you. Come out into the moonlight that I may see if you are injured." The man did not move and I went on impatiently, "Come, you are safe with us. This is the great, the famous Emerson Effendi, Father of Curses, and I am his wife, sometimes called the Sitt Hakim." by G.o.d the great, I mean you no harm. Indeed, I wish to reward you. Come out into the moonlight that I may see if you are injured." The man did not move and I went on impatiently, "Come, you are safe with us. This is the great, the famous Emerson Effendi, Father of Curses, and I am his wife, sometimes called the Sitt Hakim."

"I know you, sitt," came the reply.

"Then what are you cowering there for? If you know my name, you know its meaning; I am somewhat skilled in the art of medicine-"

As I might have expected, this statement caught the ear of Emerson, who seldom misses an opportunity of jeering at my medical qualifications. However, on this occasion he refrained from his customary caustic comment; Ramses had evidently explained the situation, and grat.i.tude prevailed over irony. Seizing the fallen man by the arm, he hauled him vigorously to his feet and began wringing his hand. "A father's blessing be upon you," he began in sonorous Arabic, but before he had got any further, the savior distracted him by dropping to his knees, his head bowed.

"You need not kneel, my good fellow," Emerson said graciously.

"I believe, Papa, he is not paying his respects but fainting," said Ramses coolly. "As I informed you, one of the men had a knife, the type that is known as-"

"Bless me," said Emerson in mild surprise. "I believe you are right, Ramses. Yes, this sticky substance on his fingers seems to be blood."