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Crocodile on the Sandbank - Elizabeth Peters [71]

By Root 635 0

“That is the most ridiculous remark you have made as yet,” I said. “And many of your remarks have been extremely silly.”

8

WHEN we came out of the tomb, wearing fresh garments and rather red eyes, we found the men assembled. Lucas had brought enough articles to stock a shop; there were flowers on the table, and a glittering array of silverware and crystal. The look on Emerson’s face as he contemplated the elegantly set table was almost enough to compensate for the absurdity of the business.

Lucas was attired in a fresh suit, spotless and expensively tailored. He sprang to his feet when we appeared and held a chair for Evelyn. Walter held one for me. Lucas offered us sherry. He behaved as if he were the host. Emerson, who was now staring at the toes of his deplorable boots, said nothing. His arm was still strapped to his side, and I concluded that he felt too ill to be as objectionable as he usually was.

“Such elegance,” I commented, as Lucas handed me a delicate goblet. “We are not accustomed to luxury here, your lordship.”

“I see no reason for depriving oneself of the amenities,” Lucas replied, smiling. “If ascetisism is necessary, I venture to say that you will find me ready to accept the most stringent measures; but while Amontillado and crystal are available, I will make use of them.”

He lifted his own glass in a mock salute. It did not contain Amontillado, although the liquid was almost as dark a shade of amber. My father never drank spirits, but my brothers were not so abstemious. I looked critically at the glass, and remarked, “Do you think it wise to imbibe? We must be on the qui vive tonight. Or have you abandoned your intention of lying in wait for our visitor?”

“Not at all! I have a strong head, Miss Amelia, and a little whiskey only makes my senses more acute.”

“That is the common delusion of the drinker,” said Walter. His tone was offensive. Lucas smiled at him.

“We are appreciative of your luxuries, Lucas,” Evelyn said. “But they really are not necessary. How heavily laden your dahabeeyah must be!”

“It would have been more heavily laden if I had had my way,” Lucas replied. “Your boxes have arrived in Cairo, Evelyn. I intended to bring them along; but that old curmudgeon, Baring, refused to hand them over.”

“Indeed?” I said. “He was an acquaintance of my father’s.”

“I am well aware of that. You should be complimented, Miss Amelia, that the new master of Egypt has taken the trouble to look after your affairs personally. The boxes were sent to you, since it was your address the Roman consul had for Evelyn. Baring took charge of them in Cairo and guards them like the dictator he is. I explained my relationship to Evelyn, but he was an adamant.”

“Perhaps your reputation has preceded you,” I said mildly.

It was impossible to offend Lucas. He laughed heartily.

“Oh, it has. I went to university with a young relative of Baring’s. I am afraid certain—er—escapades reached the distinguished gentleman’s ears.”

“It does not matter,” Evelyn said. “I am grateful for your efforts, Lucas, but I need nothing more than I have.”

“You need nothing except yourself,” Lucas said warmly. “That is treasure enough. But your needs and your desserts are two different things. One day, Evelyn, you will be persuaded to accept what you deserve; although all the treasure houses of the pharaohs could not hold its real value.”

Evelyn flushed and was silent; she was too gentle to reproach him for his remarks, which were, to say the least, out of place at that time and in that company. I felt quite exasperated with the girl; could she not see that her response to Lucas’s florid compliments only inflamed poor Walter’s jealousy? With a lover’s excessive sensibility he misinterpreted every blush, every glance.

Emerson removed his gaze from the toes of his boots and glowered at me. “Are we to sit here all evening exchanging compliments? No doubt you have planned the evening’s entertainment, Peabody; enlighten us as to what we must do.”

“I had not given the matter much thought.”

“Really? And why not?”

I had found that the

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