Crocodile on the Sandbank - Elizabeth Peters [96]
“Ah,” said Emerson, giving me a long, thoughtful look. “I assure you, Peabody, that point has not escaped me.”
We finished the trip in silence. Walter was too worried, and I was too furious, to speak. I understood Emerson’s implication. Could he really suspect me of being behind the diabolical plot? Surely not even Emerson was capable…. But, I told myself—he was! Such a cynic, who has never had an altruistic thought in his life, is always projecting his own failings onto other people.
Evelyn and Lucas were waiting for us, and we sat down for a discussion which at first proved fruitless. The fault was mine; ordinarily I have no difficulty in making up my mind, nor in convincing others of the correctness of my decision. On this occasion I could not come to a decision.
The safest course would have been for all of us to pack up and abandon the site. This I knew Emerson would never consider, and I had a certain sympathy for his point of view. Equally impossible to me was the idea of abandoning the Emersons and sailing away. Neither of them was in perfect health; they would be helpless if the villagers should turn from passive resistance to active hostility. They had no means of summoning help. Even in busy years the remote ruins of Amarna attract relatively few visitors, and the unsettled condition in the Sudan had frightened away many travelers.
An alternative was for me to remain with my dahabeeyah, in case of emergency, while Lucas and Evelyn returned to Cairo for assistance. It would be improper for them to travel unchaperoned; but by that time I was ready to consign the proprieties to perdition, where they belonged. However, the plan had a number of difficulties. Evelyn would refuse to leave me, and Emerson would howl like a jackal at the idea of my remaining to protect him. He had the lowest possible opinion of Maspero and the Antiquities Department; the notion of appealing to them for help would offend his masculine pride.
Nevertheless, I thought it my duty to propose the scheme. It was received with the unanimous, negative outcry I had expected. Did I say unanimous? I am incorrect. The only one who did not object was the one I had expected to be most vehement. Emerson sat with his lips pressed tightly together.
Lucas was the most outspoken.
“Abandon our friends?” he exclaimed. “And you, Miss Amelia? It is not to be thought of! Furthermore, I cannot possibly agree to allowing Evelyn to risk her reputation traveling alone with me. There is only one circumstance under which such a scheme would be feasible….”
And he looked significantly at Evelyn, who flushed and turned her head away.
His meaning was clear. If Evelyn traveled as his affianced bride, the ceremony to be performed immediately upon their arrival in Cairo…. In our conventional times the proprieties might be shaken by such an arrangement, but they would not be unalterably shattered.
Walter caught the meaning as soon as I did. His ingenuous young countenance fell. Emerson had produced his pipe and was puffing away with every appearance of enjoyment; his eyes gleamed maliciously as he looked from one of us to the other.
“Oh, this is absurd,” I said, jumping to my feet. “We must make some decision. The day is passing, and I am worn out.”
“Of course you are,” Evelyn exclaimed, immediately concerned. “You must have rest, that is more important than anything else. Go and lie down, Amelia.”
“We have not yet made a decision,” I began.
Emerson took his pipe from his mouth.
“Really, Peabody, this strange indecisiveness is not like you. Indeed, I am surprised at all of you. You are acting like impulsive children, ready to run from a shadow.”
“A shadow!” I exclaimed indignantly. “It was a shadow, I suppose, that struck you down with a rock; a shadow that wounded Walter!”
“To be precise, it was an avalanche that injured me,” Emerson replied coolly. “An equally unfortunate accident” —he stressed the word, glancing at Lucas as he did so—”an accident caused Walter’s wound. Come, come, Peabody,