Guardian of the Horizon - Elizabeth Peters [122]
“Arrogant,” said Moroney, summing it up. “I wasn’t accustomed to such behavior from natives. He demanded I return his property. I discovered the property consisted of rings of pure gold and several unusual weapons, and then I realized, with an astonishment which I can hardly find words to convey, that Forthright’s story was true; that the boy had come from the Lost Oasis, where gold was as common as dirt.”
“An honest man,” I said, “would have reported this immediately to his superiors.”
“I might point out,” said Moroney, with some bitterness, “that I had served my country for twenty years with nothing to show for it except the prospect of a paltry pension, and that the lure of gold has seduced wealthier men than I. But I will not make excuses. I fell; and I found young Merasen a willing collaborator. He had been sent to bring you back to the Lost Oasis, and he candidly admitted that he had little hope of getting back there himself without you. I pointed out that he had no hope of getting anywhere without my help, so we entered into an agreement. I kept the gold; the young fool hadn’t realized it was of no use to him, since an attempt to exchange it for currency would have got him scragged by a dishonest dealer or reported by an honest one. I was able to keep track of him through you; as soon as I learned you were on your way to the Sudan, I knew the first part of the scheme had succeeded. I resigned my commission and went to Aswan, where I found Merasen enjoying the dubious amenities of that place. He blandly informed me he hadn’t yet succeeded in getting hold of a copy of Forth’s map, but that he was sure he could after he met you in Wadi Halfa. So I shoved him onto the next steamer and waited for you. I had already instructed an old acquaintance in Kareima to begin getting a caravan together; I know the area well, having been stationed there for so many years.”
“That is how you were able to get away two days before us,” said Emerson, fingering the cleft in his chin.
Moroney nodded. “I didn’t believe you meant to go on to Meroe, so I was ready when the train stopped at Abu Hamed. A robe and headcloth was sufficient disguise, so long as I was careful to keep my back turned.”
He had enjoyed boasting of his cleverness, but a sound from without wiped the smile from his face. It took on a hunted look. “I don’t know how you got past Merasen’s guards, but it won’t be long before he learns of your presence,” he said in mounting agitation. “They don’t intend to let us leave, you know. I haven’t been allowed out of this house since I arrived, and I don’t know what has become of my drivers. Merasen won’t tell me. He lied to me. We are not the only—”
“Control yourself,” I said sharply. “And do not attempt to deceive us. You have left this house at least once. You lost a button outside my chamber door.”
I took it from my pocket and displayed it. Moroney gaped. “That isn’t one of mine. I never—”
“It does not belong to my husband or my son,” I interrupted. “You are the only other person here whose clothing is equipped with buttons.”
“But—but that’s what I started to tell you!” Moroney sputtered. “There is another white man here!”
Our skeptical expressions provoked him into frantic exposition. “It’s true, you must believe me; he and Merasen are thick as thieves, he comes and goes undeterred. Merasen sends me away when he is here, but I have managed to catch glimpses of him—tallish, stoop-shouldered, long chin and large nose, ears that stick out like a bat’s wings…”
He ran out of breath, since the entire speech had been unpunctuated. Emerson and I turned to stare at each other.
“It cannot be,” I exclaimed.
“It must be.” Emerson slammed his fist into his palm. “The description is too accurate. Curse it, I told you there was something