Crocodile On The Sandbank Part 17

As he spoke the last word, a memory popped into my mind. In the hotel in Cairo another imaginative miscreant had penetrated my room, dressed as an ancient Egyptian. I started to speak and then changed my mind; there surely could be no connection between the two events.

"I am off to the village," Emerson said. "I have dealt with these people before; I think I can persuade the mayor. Walter?"

The distance to the village was several miles. I am sure I need not say that I made part of the expedition. Evelyn remained behind, feeling herself unequal to the exertion; with Abdullah and Michael in camp, she was amply protected. Emerson, who had opposed my coming with his customary temper tantrum, was annoyed that I kept up with him easily. Of course I could not have done so if he had been at his normal strength, and I was increasingly concerned for him as he plodded through the sand.

The brooding silence of the village was most disturbing. I thought at first we would not be admitted to the slightly more pretentious hovel that housed the mayor of the village, but Emerson's repeated blows on the rickety door finally produced a response. The door opened a mere crack; the sharply pointed nose and wrinkle-wrapped eyes of the old sheikh peered out. Emerson gave the door a shove. He caught the old gentleman as he staggered back and politely set him on his feet. We were in the house.

I wished immediately that I was out. The stench of the place was indescribable. Chickens, goats, and people crowded the dark little room; their eyes shone like stars in the shadows. We were not invited to sit down, and indeed there was no surface in the place on which I would have cared to sit. Obviously the chickens roosted on the long divan that was the room's most conspicuous piece of furniture.

Emerson, arms folded and chin jutting, carried on the discussion in Arabic. I could not understand what was being said, but it was easy to follow the course of the conversation. The mayor, a wrinkled little old man whose pointed nose almost met his bony chin, mumbled his responses. He was not insolent or defiant; this att.i.tude would have been easier to combat than his obvious terror.

Gradually the other human inhabitants of the place slipped away; only the goats and the chickens remained. One friendly goat was particularly intrigued with the sleeve of my dress. I pushed him away absentmindedly, trying to keep track of what was transpiring between the speakers, and slowly the truth dawned on me. The mayor could hardly bear to be in the same room with us. He kept retreating until his back was up against the wall.

Then someone slipped through the narrow aperture that gave entry into the back room-the only other chamber this mayoral palace contained. I recognized Mohammed. With his appearance the conversation took a new turn. His father turned to him with pathetic pleasure, and Mohammed took over his role in the argument. He was insolent; his very tone was an offense. Emerson's fists clenched and his lips set tightly as he listened. Then Mohammed glanced at me and broke into English.

"The Mummy hate stranger," he said, grinning. "Stranger go. But not women. Mummy like English women- "

Emerson was on him in a single bound. The poor old father squealed in alarm; but it was Walter who plucked his infuriated brother from Mohammed's throat. The man collapsed, moaning, when Emerson's fingers were detached, but even in the bad light I saw the look he gave his a.s.sailant; and a chill ran through me.

"Come away," Walter said in a low voice, holding bis brother's rigid arm. "Come away, there is nothing more we can do here."

We did not linger in the village, but traversed its single narrow street as quickly as we could. When we reached the clean emptiness of the desert, Emerson stopped. His face was s.h.i.+ning with perspiration; under his tan he was a sickly gray in color.

"I think I owe you both an apology," he said thickly.

"That was stupid of me; I have ruined any chance we might have had of convincing the mayor."

"I heard what the fellow said," Walter replied. "I don't blame you, Radcliffe; it was all I could do to control myself. I feel sure Mohammed is out to drive us away; your action was ill advised, but I don't think it mattered."

"I am amazed at his effrontery," I exclaimed. "Doesn't he realize what he risks from the authorities in opposing you?"

Emerson's face darkened.

"Egypt is more unsettled than those complacent fools in Cairo realize. The mad dervish in the Sudan has stirred up the peasants; most Egyptians secretly yearn for his success and gloat at every British defeat. I wouldn't give a s.h.i.+lling for the lives of foreigners here if the Mahdi should approach the First Cataract."

"But surely there is not the slightest danger of that! Gordon is still making a valiant defense at Khartoum, and Wolseley's expedition is about to relieve him. How can untrained native rebels succeed against British troops?"

Emerson's answer was all the more convincing because I secretly believed it myself; but I would not give him the satisfaction of looking as if I agreed.

"Those untrained rebels have already ma.s.sacred half a dozen British armies, including that of Colonel Hicks. I have the gravest fears for Gordon's safety; it will be a miracle if the relief expedition arrives in time. The whole business in the Sudan has been a masterpiece of blunders from start to finish. In the meantime, we seem to be facing a minor rebellion here, and I won't tolerate it." Stumbling a little, he started walking.

"Where are you going?" I asked. "The camp is this way."

"There are two other villages on the plain. If the men of Haggi Qandil will not work, we will try el Till and al Amarnah."

"I fear it will be useless." Walter caught up with his brother and tried to take his arm. Emerson shook it off. "Radcliffe, stop and listen; you aren't fit to walk all over the desert today, and you can be sure that Mohammed's story has reached the other villages as well. They battle among themselves, but they are of the same stock. Your efforts will not avail there any more than they did at Haggi Qandil."

Emerson's feet were dragging, but his chin was set stubbornly. I decided to end the matter before he fell flat on his back.

"Let him go, Walter," I said. "You know he is too stubborn to listen to reason. What we need now is a council of war; we must consult Abdullah, and also Michael, who is an astute man. I can think of several things we might do, but we may as well wait until after your brother has feinted, then he won't be in our way, arguing and shouting. I think we can drag him back to camp from here. If not, Abdullah and Michael can come for him."

Emerson was still on his feet when we reached the camp. Walter took him into their tomb for restorative action; then we met for the suggested council of war.

This was the first time Michael had heard of what was happening. He spent his nights on the dahabeeyah, considering the three-mile walk trivial; as a Christian and a stranger he was not welcome in the village. Squatting on the rug at my side he listened without comment; but his fingers strayed to the gold crucifix around his neck, and he kept touching it throughout the remainder of the discussion. I asked him for his suggestions,

"Leave this place," he said promptly. "I am protected from demons"- and his fingers closed over the crucifix- "but in this place are also evil men. The boat waits; we all go, the gentlemen too."

"Surely you don't believe in demons, Michael," Evelyn said in her gentle voice.

"But, lady, it is in the Holy Book. G.o.d lets demons and afreets exist; how can we say the Holy Book is a lie? I do not fear demons, no, I am a true believer. But this is not a good place."

Abdullah nodded vigorously. His faith was not Michael's, but beneath both Christianity and Islam lie the dark superst.i.tions of the pagan religion.

"Michael has made one of the proposals I intended to make," I said, nodding at Michael, who beamed with gratified pride. "You must face the fact, gentlemen, that you can do no more here at this time. I suggest you withdraw and recruit workers from some other part of Egypt. They will not be subject to the influence Mohammed can bear; and when the local villagers see that the work is proceeding without incident, they will realize that the idea of a curse is nonsense."

Walter was clearly impressed with the argument, and with the additional point I had not made- his brother's health. He looked at Emerson, who said nothing; but his chin jutted out so far that I had to repress an urgent desire to strike it.

"There are other sites in Egypt that need work," Evelyn added. "Many of them, from what you tell me. Why not try another place until the resentment has died down here?"

"An interesting suggestion," Emerson said. His voice was very quiet; it grated like a grinding stone.

"What do you say, Abdullah?"

"Very good, very good. We go. Work at Sakkarah, Luxor. I know tombs in the Valley of the Kings," he added, with a sly glance at Emerson. "Royal tombs, many not found yet. I find you good king's tomb and we go to Thebes, where is my home, where I have friends who work gladly."

"Hmm," said Emerson. "There certainly are undiscovered tombs in the Valley of the Kings. It is a tempting suggestion, Abdullah. You seem to forget, however, that one cannot excavate in Egypt without permission from the Antiquities Department. I had a difficult enough time wringing this concession out of Maspero; he certainly will not allow me to dig in any spot where he hopes to find interesting objects. There is also a minor matter of money to be considered. Walter- what is your opinion?"

Walter had been looking at Evelyn. He started when his brother addressed him, and faint color stained his tanned cheeks.

"Why, Radcliffe, you know I will do whatever you wish. But I urge one thing most strongly. Whether you and I go or stay, the ladies must leave. Not that our situation holds any danger; but it is unpleasant, and the ladies have already given too much time to us. They must depart; today, if possible."

A tear glimmered in my eye as I gazed at the gallant young fellow. He was a true Briton, ordering the girl he loved out of danger and remaining loyal to his billy goat of a brother. Evelyn clasped her hands and gazed at me beseechingly. She felt the same loyalty to me, and would not oppose my decision.

There was no need for her appeal. I had no intention of being removed, like a bundle of laundry, to a safe spot behind the lines of battle.

"The suggestion is well meant, but I cannot accept it," I said briskly. "Either we all go, or all of us remain."

Emerson now turned his full attention to me. He drew a deep breath; the b.u.t.tons of his s.h.i.+rt strained across his broad chest. They were all loose, and I reminded myself to fetch my sewing kit as soon as the argument was over.

"Ah, Miss Peabody," he said, in a low growl. "My dear Miss Peabody. May I take the liberty of inquiring how the devil- " His voice rose to a roar; a gesture from Walter stopped him, and he continued in a moderated voice that shook with the strain of control. "How on earth did you come to be mixed up in my affairs? I am a patient man; I seldom complain. But my life was calm and peaceful until you came into it. Now you behave as if you were the leader of the expedition! I quite agree with Walter; the women must go. Now don't argue with me, Peabody! Do you realize that I could have you bundled up and carried off to your boat? Michael and Abdullah would be delighted to do the job."

I glanced down at Michael, who was listening in open-mouthed interest.

"No, Michael would not obey you. He would prefer to see me out of here, I'm sure, but he would not disregard my wishes. Now, Emerson, don't waste time arguing. I can see that you intend to remain here, and I must admit that I am reluctant to abandon the work- to see the British lion skulk away with its tail between its legs..."

"Oh, G.o.d," said Emerson. He rolled his eyes until the whites showed. I felt that the remark was not intended as a prayer, but decided not to make an issue of it. I continued.

"Having decided to remain, we must consider the next step. You cannot obtain workmen here. Unless my crew..."

I glanced at Michael, who shook his head, and went on, "No, I thought they would not. And I fear any workers you might import might be subject to the same hara.s.sment. I suggest, then, that today we all work at finis.h.i.+ng up the pavement. Evelyn must complete her sketch; I will apply the rest of the tapioca. Tonight we will proceed to the obvious course of action. We must catch the Mummy, and unmask him!"