Lion In The Valley - Part 16
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Part 16

The guilt on the poor man's face was answer enough. Emerson, chuckling, would have pursued the subject had I not intervened. "It would be more to the point, Emerson, were we to ask Father Todorus for a more detailed description of the place in which he was imprisoned. He may have heard or seen something that would give us a hint as to its location." Emerson, were we to ask Father Todorus for a more detailed description of the place in which he was imprisoned. He may have heard or seen something that would give us a hint as to its location."

I spoke in English, and Emerson answered in the same language. "If that swine Sethos is as clever as you seem to think he is, he will have abandoned that place long ago. Oh, very well, it will do no harm to ask."

Father Todorus was visibly relieved when, instead of returning to the awkward subject of his temptations, Emerson asked about his prison. Like so many people, the priest was a poor observer; specific questions brought out facts he had suppressed, not intentionally but because he had never thought about them. He had not been able to see out the windows, but he had heard sounds, though m.u.f.fled and faraway. When added one to another, the noises he mentioned made it evident that he had been, not in a village or isolated villa, but in the heart of a city.

"Cairo, Emerson," I cried.

"I a.s.sumed that from the first," said Emerson repressively. "But where in that teeming hive of humanity?"

Further questioning failed to answer that important question. When we rose to take our leave, we were hardly wiser than when we had come. Father Todorus, who had consumed two cups of brandy, accompanied us to the door, reiterating his thanks and a.s.suring us he would mention us in his prayers-a compliment Emerson received with a grimace and a growl.

As we walked toward the donkeys I said, "Father Todorus is certainly generous with his cognac. I suppose Sethos left in such haste, he could not carry away the comforts with which he had provided himself, but to judge from the rate at which it is being consumed he must have left a considerable quant.i.ty." judge from the rate at which it is being consumed he must have left a considerable quant.i.ty."

Emerson came to a stop. "Ha!" he cried. "I knew some detail was nagging at my mind, but I could not imagine what it was. Good thinking, Peabody."

Whereupon he ran back to the priest's house, with, I hardly need say, me following. When Father Todorus responded to his peremptory knock, he was still holding his cup. Seeing Emerson, he smiled beatifically. "You have returned, O Father of Curses. Come in, with the honored sitt your wife, and have-hic!-more brandy."

"I would not deprive you, Father," said Emerson with a grin. "For surely your supply must be limited."

The little man's face lengthened. One might have thought Emerson had accused him of robbery and worse, and Emerson said aside, in English, "Really, Peabody, it is too easy to confound this fellow; he has no more talent for dissimulation than a child."

"Less," I said meaningfully, "than some children."

"Humph," said Emerson. Returning to Arabic, he addressed the priest. "Your supply has been replenished, Father-is that not true? How often and in what manner?"

The priest groaned. He started to wring his hands; remembering that he still held the cup, he quickly drained it. With a glance at the curious onlookers, he muttered, "It was the devils, O Father of Curses. I beg you will not let these people know; they might appeal to the patriarch for help against the powers of evil, and I a.s.sure you, I swear to you, that I can conquer the devils, I am constantly at prayer-"

Emerson rea.s.sured him and the little man found courage to speak. There had been two deliveries of cognac by the demons since his miraculous return from imprisonment. On both occasions he had found the boxes at his bedside when he woke in the morning. He had not bothered to look for signs of intrusion, since it was well known that devils, being bodiless, do not leave footprints. by the demons since his miraculous return from imprisonment. On both occasions he had found the boxes at his bedside when he woke in the morning. He had not bothered to look for signs of intrusion, since it was well known that devils, being bodiless, do not leave footprints.

With further a.s.surances of our good will, we took our leave. The priest disappeared into his house, no doubt in order to rid himself of the demonic gift in the most appropriate manner.

"What a curious thing," I exclaimed, as we trotted out of the village. "This man, this unknown genius of crime, is a strange mixture of cruelty and compa.s.sion. Cases of fine French cognac would not be my notion of apology and compensation for such rude handling, but-"

"Oh, do use your head, Peabody," Emerson shouted, his face reddening. "Apology and compensation indeed! I never heard such balderdash."

"Why else would he-"

"To complete the corruption of the priest, of course. A bizarre and evil sense of humor, not compa.s.sion, is the motive for these gifts."

"Oh," I said. "I had not thought of that, Emerson. Good Gad, it is no wonder, such consummate depths of depravity are beyond the comprehension of any normal person."

"They are not beyond my comprehension," said Emerson, with a vicious snap of his teeth. "Ordinary a.s.sault, abduction, and attempted murder I can put up with; but this villain has gone too far."

"I quite agree, Emerson. To play such a trick on poor Father Todorus-"

"Grrr," said Emerson. "Peabody, you astonish me."

"I don't know what you mean, Emerson. Do you think there is any hope of waylaying the deliverers of the cognac?"

' 'No, I do not. Sethos may tire of his joke and stop delivery, and if he continues, we have no idea when the next visit will take place. It would be a waste of time to keep the priest's house under observation, if that is what you were about to propose."

"I was not. I had reached the same conclusion."

"I am happy to hear it, Peabody."

We reached the house at teatime, and I at once set about preparing that repast, a.s.sisted by Enid. Ramses and Donald had not returned; I caught myself listening for sounds of riot and furious pursuit, such as often accompanied Ramses' departure from home. Aside from the normal noises of awakening village life, however, the only untoward sounds were those of distant gunshots. Even these were not unusual, for shooting was a favorite amus.e.m.e.nt of the more ignorant tourists, and the swampy areas between the ca.n.a.l and the river harbored great flocks of unfortunate birds whom these "sportsmen" liked to ma.s.sacre.

The shadows lengthened, and still the wanderers had not returned. Emerson was pacing up and down the courtyard glancing alternately at his watch and at the closed gates, when at last a shout announced the long-awaited event. Abdullah opened the gates and they rode into the compound, Donald close behind Ramses.

Ramses immediately slid off his donkey and started for the back of the house, trying, I suppose, to appear as if he were anxious to wash. Donald's hand shot out and caught him by the collar. Holding him by that uncomfortable but convenient handle, he marched the boy toward us.

"Professor and Mrs. Emerson, I deliver to you your son. He has achieved a degree of dirtiness I once thought impossible, even after my own youthful experiments along that line, but he is intact, as I received him. I a.s.sure you that to keep him in that condition was no small feat."

It was evident that they had been near the river, for the substance that covered Ramses was dried mud. Parts of it had flaked off, giving him a peculiarly antique appearance, like a rotted mummy.

"I will wash immediately, Mama," he wheezed. "If you will be so good as to direct this-this person to unhand me."

But by that time I had observed the little detail Ramses was so intent on concealing from me. It was little indeed-a hole a half inch in diameter drilled neatly into the side of his pith helmet. Moving a step to the side, I observed a second hole, slightly larger, opposite the first.

Emerson observed these unusual features at the same time, and, with a shout of consternation, he s.n.a.t.c.hed the hat off Ramses' head. He threw it to the ground and began running his fingers through the boy's hair, completing the total dishevelment of that area.

"It is the mark of a bullet, Peabody," he cried. "A bullet has gone completely through Ramses' hat! Ramses, dear boy, where are you wounded?"

"Oh, do stop it, Emerson," I said. "If Ramses had been wearing the hat when the shot was fired, the bullet would have gone straight through his cranium and you would have no difficulty in noticing the result."

"He was not wearing the hat," Donald said. "He was holding it in his hand. That may relieve your apprehension, Professor, but in my opinion it still calls for punishment. If this young man were my son, I would turn him over my knee and give him a good hiding."

Ramses slowly turned his head and gave Donald a look that would have made a wiser man retract his threat. The boy's raven curls stood up in a bush like that of a Masai warrior, and his expression was no more affable.

Emerson ignored Donald's remark-it was not the first time he had heard suggestions of that nature-but Enid gave an indignant cry. "I am not surprised at hearing so cruel a sentiment from that that source," she exclaimed, putting a protective arm around Ramses. "Poor child! After such a frightening experience, to be manhandled and cursed-" source," she exclaimed, putting a protective arm around Ramses. "Poor child! After such a frightening experience, to be manhandled and cursed-"

"Confound it, Enid, I didn't swear," Donald protested. "I was tempted to, but I didn't."

Enid turned her back on him and pulled Ramses close to her. "Come with Enid, poor lad; she will tidy you and protect you from this bully."

Ramses' face was pressed against her impeccable shirtwaist-impeccable, I mean to say, until that moment-but I could see his cheek and one corner of his mouth. The latter feature was curved in an insufferable smirk. He allowed himself to be led away, with every appearance of enjoying the sort of embrace he would ordinarily have protested.

Displaying hands almost as filthy as those of Ramses, Donald also went to wash. If he hoped to plead his case with Enid, he was given no opportunity, for she came back almost at once, clasping Ramses' hand. His face and hands at least were clean, and realizing that only total immersion would restore him to a semblance of decency, I allowed him to take his tea with us, providing he sat some distance from the table. Owing to the nutrients contained in it, Nile mud has a particularly pungent and pervasive smell.

Nor did Donald linger over his toilette. He had been wearing Arab dress over his shirt and trousers; the removal of the robe removed the worst of the mud and he had taken time to pa.s.s a brush over his waving locks. After he had joined us I invited him to tell us what had happened and to provide us with the name of the person who had attempted to a.s.sa.s.sinate Ramses.

"As you must know, from your calm tone, Mrs. Emerson, it was an accident," he replied. "Brought on in large part by Master Ramses himself. We had gone down to the ca.n.a.l and were talking with the women who were washing clothes-at least Ramses was. By the way, your son has an appalling familiarity with certain Arabic idioms-----While we were there, we heard gunfire some little distance off. Before I could stop him, Ramses had mounted his donkey and was going h.e.l.lbent for leather-I beg your pardon-riding rapidly in the direction from which the shots had come. I caught up with him after a while and explained that it was ill-advised to blunder into a shooting blind. We had a little discussion. He persuaded me-fool that I am!-to go closer, in order to observe the shooting. We-er-we had made quite a lot of noise, and I did not doubt the hunters knew we were there, but in order to be perfectly safe I called out again. A great flock of pigeons were wheeling and preparing to settle; it was clear that the rifles would be aimed in that direction, and since we were approaching from the west, I thought I had taken every possible precaution-"

"It sounds as if you had," I observed, pouring him another cup of tea. "I presume Ramses ran out into the line of fire."

Donald nodded. "Shouting at the top of his lungs and waving his hat. Naturally the birds took alarm and flew off-" waving his hat. Naturally the birds took alarm and flew off-"

"Which was precisely my intention," exclaimed Ramses. "You know my sentiments about blood sports, Mama; killing for food or in self-defense is one thing, but the slaughter of helpless fauna for the sake of simply counting the number of the slain is a process I cannot-''

"Your sentiments on that subject are known to me, Ramses," said Emerson. "But, dear boy-"

"Don't scold him," Enid begged. "The gallant little fellow was not thinking of his own safety. His action was reckless but n.o.ble! I might have done the same thing had I been there, for I share his abhorrence of men who find a perverse pleasure in killing."

This statement was obviously directed at Donald, who flushed painfully. He got no chance to defend himself, for Enid continued to praise and admire Ramses, whose smug expression was really enough to try the patience of a saint. In a typical Ramsesian effort to show appreciation for her spirited defense, he offered to give her a lesson in hieroglyphic-the highest compliment in his power-and they went into the house, hand in hand.

Donald slammed his cup into his saucer with such force that it cracked. "I resign my position, Mrs. Emerson. I have faced armed foes and fierce savages, but Ramses has defeated me."

"Ramses? You mean Enid, don't you? Have more bread and b.u.t.ter, Donald."

"I don't want any cursed ... Forgive me, Mrs. E. I only want to be left alone."

"Alone with your pipe and your opium?" said Emerson. "Give it up, my boy. You won't elude Mrs. Emerson; she has made up her mind to reform you, and reform you she will, whether you like it or not. Excuse me; I believe I will go in and work on my notes." reform you she will, whether you like it or not. Excuse me; I believe I will go in and work on my notes."

"Emerson is so tactful," I said, as my husband's stalwart form vanished into the house. "He knows I wanted a confidential chat with you, Ronald-I beg your pardon, Donald. No, don't go, for if you do, I will have Abdullah bring you back and sit on you until I am finished. Goodness, the stubbornness of the male s.e.x! Enid has told me everything, Donald."

The young man sank back into his chair. "Everything?"

' 'Well, almost everything. She did not say in so many words that she loves you, but it was not difficult for me to see it. I am constantly astonished-"

Donald leaped to his feet. "Loves me?"

"-at the inability of men to see what is right under their noses. And you love her-"

"Love her? Love her!"

"You sound like a parrot. Do sit down and stop shouting, or you will have everyone coming round to see what is wrong."

Slowly Donald subsided into his chair, like a man whose limbs will no longer support him. His eyes, wide as saucers, and blue as the best Egyptian turquoise, were fixed on my face.

I continued, "Why else would she pursue you and attempt to persuade you to defend yourself? Why would she submit to the disgusting attentions of a man like Kalenischeff, if not to aid you? Why is she so furious with you? Mark my words, a woman does not go to such lengths for the sake of old friendship. She loves you! But she despises you too, and with reason. You do your brother no favor to take his punishment on yourself, and if you are foolish enough to submit to shame and disgrace for the sake of some absurd notion of gallantry, you have no right to make those who love you suffer. Proclaim your innocence and your brother's guilt; take the position that is rightly yours, and claim your bride!" shame and disgrace for the sake of some absurd notion of gallantry, you have no right to make those who love you suffer. Proclaim your innocence and your brother's guilt; take the position that is rightly yours, and claim your bride!"

"I can't believe you," Donald muttered. "She despises me. She-"

"Well, of course she does. That has nothing to do with her loving you. Now listen to me, Donald. You cannot desert us. I am unable to explain this to Emerson, for he is becoming so unreasonable about the Master Criminal that the mere mention of the name starts him shouting, but you, I dare hope, will understand. Enid is in grave danger, not from the police, but from that mysterious genius of crime. He meant her to be charged and convicted for the murder of Kalenischeff. Why else would he have selected her room as the scene of slaughter?"

"Possibly," Donald suggested, "because Kalenischeff was on his guard at all other times and was only vulnerable to attack when he believed he had been summoned to a romantic rendezvous."

"My question was rhetorical," I said sharply. "Take my word for it; Enid is not safe. Who knows, she may have seen or heard something on that terrible night that would endanger Sethos, could she but recall it. Let her abuse you and insult you, but do not abandon her when she needs you. And, while I am on the subject of insults and abuses, let me inform you that your abject acceptance of Enid's contumely is not going to improve her opinion of you. I would be happy to give you one or two suggestions-"

Again Donald started up, so impetuously that his chair toppled over. "I beg you, Mrs. Emerson-spare me. Your arguments have won me over; I will never desert Miss Debenham so long as she is in need of protection. But I cannot-I cannot endure-oh, G.o.d!" Whereupon he rushed into the house. me. Your arguments have won me over; I will never desert Miss Debenham so long as she is in need of protection. But I cannot-I cannot endure-oh, G.o.d!" Whereupon he rushed into the house.

Ten.

Abdullah had neglected to close the gates. I sat in rare and pleasurable solitude, listening to the distant voices of Ramses and Enid discussing ancient Egyptian (or rather, the voice of Ramses lecturing Enid about ancient Egyptian) and enjoying the splendor of the sunset. The grand palette of the heavens was streaked with colors no earthly painter could achieve, savage-glowing bronze and gleaming crimson, indigo and rose and soft blue-gray. I knew the lurid beauty of the sky was due to the amount of sand in the atmosphere, and hoped we were not in for a storm.

One of the paths from the village pa.s.sed in front of the gates, and my vigil was further enlivened by the forms of fellahin returning home from the fields, donkeys loaded with wood for the cookfires, women m.u.f.fled in black and carrying heavy water jars on their heads. The procession of eternal Egypt, I thought to myself-for poetic fancies come to me at such times. myself-for poetic fancies come to me at such times.

An alien shape broke into the slow-moving parade, the very speed of its approach an intrusion. The shape was that of a mounted man, who rode straight through the open gates. Seeing me, he dismounted, sweeping off his hat.

"Mrs. Emerson, I am Ronald Fraser. We met the other day-''

"I know," I said. "Are you by chance the person who put a hole in my son's hat this afternoon?"

"No, indeed! At least I hope not." His smile made him look so much like his brother, I glanced involuntarily over my shoulder. Donald was nowhere in sight, but Emerson was. His broad shoulders filled the open doorway and a scowl darkened his face.

"You hope not," he repeated ironically. "I hope not too, young man; for if you were the one who committed that little error, you would have to answer to me."

"It is in order to explain and apologize for the incident that I do myself the honor to call on you and your charming lady," Ronald said smoothly. "May I-"

"You may," I said, indicating the chair Donald had overturned in his hasty departure. "I would offer you a cup of tea, but I am afraid it is cold."

Ronald righted the chair and deposited himself in it. He was a graceful creature, more elegant and less manly than his brother. Knowing them as I now did, I could never have mistaken one for the other. The younger man's countenance betrayed the weakness of his character; his lips were thin, his chin was irresolute, his brow narrow and receding. Even his eyes, of the same sea-blue, were paler in color. They met mine with a clear candor I could not help but find highly suspicious.

In the most charming manner he disclaimed any intention of troubling me, even to the extent of a cup of tea. "I came," he went on, "only to make certain that no harm had been done the lad. He ran out in front of our guns, Professor and Mrs. Emerson-I a.s.sure you he did. I honestly don't know whose bullet it was that struck the hat out of his hand. He had retrieved it and retreated before we could go after him. Though we searched for some time, we found no sign of him, or of anyone else-though I thought I caught a glimpse of another person, an Arab, by his clothing...." tea. "I came," he went on, "only to make certain that no harm had been done the lad. He ran out in front of our guns, Professor and Mrs. Emerson-I a.s.sure you he did. I honestly don't know whose bullet it was that struck the hat out of his hand. He had retrieved it and retreated before we could go after him. Though we searched for some time, we found no sign of him, or of anyone else-though I thought I caught a glimpse of another person, an Arab, by his clothing...."

He ended on a questioning note, but I was not tempted to inform him that the other person present had been his brother. Nor was Emerson; in fact, my husband's response was direct to the point of rudeness. There were references, as I recall, to young idiots who could find nothing better to do with their time than blast away at birds who could not shoot back, and to his (Emerson's) sincere hope that the shooters would end up riddling themselves and each other.

Mr. Ronald's fixed smile remained in place. "I don't blame you, Professor; in your place I would say much the same."

"I doubt that," Emerson replied haughtily. "If you think your powers of invective can equal mine, you are sadly mistaken."

"I will make any amends in my power," the young man insisted. "A gift to the little chap-a profound apology-"

I had been wondering why Ramses had not made an appearance. It was most unlike him to refrain from interrupting. Yet even this conciliatory and tempting offer did not bring him out of the house. The most profound silence filled that edifice; even the murmur of Ramses' lecture had ceased.

"That is not necessary," I said. "But thank you for coming."

I had no intention of allowing him to leave as yet, but it was not easy to introduce the topic I wanted to question him about. "Did you forge your brother's signature?" or "Do you believe Miss Debenham is a murderess?" seemed a trifle abrupt, especially since I was not supposed to be acquainted with the persons in question. However, the young man saved me the trouble by an inquiry almost as direct as the ones I had rejected.

"I had another reason for coming," he said gravely. "May I have a word, please, with Miss Debenham?"

I rallied at once without, I am sure, indicating how surprised I was by the question. "Miss Debenham? I don't believe I know-"

"I cannot believe she has succeeded in deceiving you, Mrs. Emerson, no matter what name she has a.s.sumed. You are too astute to be gulled. Your kind heart and gentle sympathy are well known; everyone talks of it; it is impossible to spend more than a few days in Egypt without knowing your reputation-and, of course, that of your distinguished husband. You took her in, a helpless fugitive, and for that you will always have my grat.i.tude. Do you suppose I would betray her- I, who hold her above all living creatures? Only let me see her, speak to her-a.s.sure myself she is unharmed- learn what I can do to serve her...."

Unwillingly impressed by his eloquence, I listened without either confirming or denying his a.s.sumption. How long he would have gone on I cannot say, but his speech was halted by Enid herself. She had to push Emerson out of the way; he had been listening with an expression of incredulous disgust.

"You see me," she said icily. "I am unharmed. You know what you can do to serve me. That answers all your questions, I believe."

"Enid!" He rushed toward her, overturning the chair for the second time that afternoon. I heard a crack as one of the legs gave way. for the second time that afternoon. I heard a crack as one of the legs gave way.

Enid waited until he was almost upon her, then raised one hand with a solemn dignity that stopped him in his tracks. "Enid," he repeated, in tones of gentle reproach. ' 'How could you do this? If you knew what agonies I have endured, being ignorant of where you were or how you fared-"