Children of the Storm - Elizabeth Peters [193]
“She certainly deceived me,” Nefret admitted.
“It was necessary that she deceive them, so that she might remain at liberty. Upon hearing of Emerson’s capture and Matilda’s vindictive intentions, she realized that she was the only one who could save him. With great courage and at considerable risk to herself, she stole the keys last night, crept into his room, and freed him from his shackles. She tried to persuade him to escape that same night, but he refused. Like the confounded fool he is,” I added.
“I had some hope of preventing the attack on the steamer,” said Emerson, smoking placidly.
“Single-handedly?” I inquired with raised brows.
“I rather expected Matilda to pay me another call,” Emerson explained. “She so enjoyed the first. Then, you see, I would have taken her hostage and forced the others to surrender to me.”
“An excellent plan,” said Sethos, with excessive politeness.
“Well, curse it, I didn’t expect them to shove François in with me. When I heard them at the door I rearranged my shackles so that I appeared to be still confined and put on a show of weakness. I hoped to get more specific information from him, about the timing and method, but all the bas—er—fellow did was sit glowering at me and fingering his knife. I had about decided there was no point in waiting any longer when I heard gunfire. I had just finished dealing with François when Maryam came back to let me out. She is a brave little girl, and risked a great deal for us.”
“More than you know,” Sethos said. He rose stiffly to his feet. “Look after her, will you, Amelia? I must catch the night train to Cairo.”
“Out of the question,” I exclaimed. “You should not be using that leg, and anyhow, your first duty is to your daughter. Tell Mr. Smith to go to blazes.”
“I am perfectly fit,” said Sethos, sounding alarmingly like Emerson. “And this duty takes precedence over all others. You are on the wrong track, Amelia. Evelyn had the right idea after all.”
“She was under duress,” Evelyn exclaimed. “I knew it. What hold did they have over her?”
“The most powerful hold you can possibly imagine.” He smiled at me with something of his old mockery, but there was a light in his eyes. “Some might declare there are enough small children in this adventure already . . .”
“Can never have enough of them,” declared Emerson sentimentally. Then his jaw dropped. “What do you mean? Oh, good Gad! Do you mean—”
“I have just been informed that I am a grandfather,” said Sethos. “The child is a boy. He is a year old, and Matilda has had him in her hands since shortly after he was born.”
“Good heavens,” I cried, leaping to my feet. “In the hands of that vicious, unprincipled . . . We must go at once! Er—where?”
“I know where,” Sethos said. “I had a little chat with Matilda just now. Sit down, Amelia, and have another whiskey. You won’t be needed. I must catch that train, though. I promised I would bring him back to her as soon as is humanly possible.”
“Of course,” I murmured. “How she must have suffered!”
Emerson knocked out his pipe. “I’m going with you. You aren’t fit to travel.”
Neither was he. Ramses looked from him to Nefret, whose hand rested in his. “No, sir, I’ll go.”
“What about me?” Bertie asked.
“You have done enough,” I said affectionately.
“No, ma’am, not really. The rest of you chaps . . .” His kind brown eyes moved from Ramses to David to Emerson to Walter. “The rest of you want to be with your wives. I—er—I’d like to go. If—er—Sethos will have me. Just to—er—lean on now and then, you know.”
They had formed a bond, I believe, during those last desperate minutes, when Bertie, firing as coolly and accurately as Sethos, had eliminated four of the armed men who stood at the rail before