Lion in the Valley - Elizabeth Peters [103]
As might have been expected, Ramses was quite ready to talk, and I must say his conversation was a curious blend of his normal Egyptological interests and his new infatuation. He kept inviting Enid to come to his room so he could show her his Egyptian grammar.
At the end of the meal Emerson announced abruptly that he intended to go to Cairo next day. “It is the day of rest for the men, so I won’t be losing any more time than I would in any case. I count on you, Mr. Fraser, to watch over Ramses and the ladies—”
“The ladies!” I exclaimed. “I hope you don’t include me in that category, Emerson. Naturally I intend to accompany you.”
“I phrased it badly, Peabody. Pray excuse me. I had hoped you would also remain here, on guard. You are worth a thousand men, you know.”
This flagrant attempt at flattery was so unlike Emerson, I could only stare in silent astonishment. Donald said, “As to that, Professor, you may be sure I will do my duty with or without Mrs. Emerson’s assistance. Even a moral coward may be willing to die in defense of the weak and helpless.”
This statement infuriated both Enid and Ramses. Enid suggested that they retire, to inspect the grammar, and they went off together. Bastet followed them, but not before she had indicated her loyalty to her young master by biting Donald on the leg.
It was agreed that we should spend the night at the house, in order to be ready to catch the early train. Emerson applied himself to writing up his professional journal, while I labeled and sorted the artifacts that had been found. Sometimes, though, when I looked up from my work, I saw him sitting with idle hands staring at the paper in front of him, as if his mind had wandered far from his work. I went to bed early. Emerson did not come up with me, nor did he rouse me, as he usually did, when he joined me later.
The zenith was still dark when I was awakened by a surreptitious sound below, but the faint pallor of the eastern sky showed that dawn was not far distant. Carefully I crawled to the edge of the roof and looked down. The sound I had heard was that of the door being softly opened and closed. I expected to see a diminutive form creeping out on some unimaginable errand, but the shadow that stole toward the gate was that of a man. I had no difficulty in realizing it must be Donald.
I did not waken Emerson. When roused suddenly from profound slumber he makes loud noises and strikes people. It took only a moment to slip into the garments I had laid out ready for the morning, and to seize my trusty parasol. I did not take my belt of tools, for I feared their rattling would arouse Emerson and make the surreptitious pursuit I contemplated impossible. As it was, the parasol caught my foot as I was climbing down the wall and caused me to fall rather heavily. Luckily the earthen surface muffled the thud. I reminded myself that in future, should such a descent become necessary, I had better drop the parasol down before descending myself.
Donald had left the gate slightly ajar. Slipping through it, I looked in vain for him, and feared he had escaped me. However, I had some idea where he might be going. As I dressed I had remembered a statement of his brother’s the day before. That rambling, sentimental speech had not been so pointless as I had believed; for in reminiscing about childhood days, Ronald had suggested an assignation, hoping Donald would overhear. He had obviously known Donald was among us, even as he had been aware of Enid’s presence. How he had come by this information was a matter of some concern, but I did not waste time speculating on it. With any luck, I would soon be in a position to ask him pointblank, for I felt sure Donald was going to meet his brother on the reedy bank of the canal, near the place where the latter had been shooting.
The sky lightened and the rim of the rising sun peeped over the hills. I followed the path along the dike that skirted the village, for I assumed that