The Ape Who Guards the Balance - Elizabeth Peters [104]
“Not such an easy task,” Ramses murmured.
Nor was it. I labored for some time over my note, rubbing words out and changing them. When at last I was satisfied I had done the best I could, I put down my pencil. His pen poised, David was frowning over the paper on the table before him. The others, including Emerson, were reading.
“I thought you were going to write Walter, Emerson,” I said.
“I have.”
I picked up the paper he indicated. It read: “Catch the next boat home. Sincere regards, R.E.”
“Really, Emerson,” I exclaimed.
“Well, why repeat information you have probably given in excruciating detail? You’ve been at it for hours, Peabody.”
“Hardly so long, my dear. I have given them all the necessary information, however. Nefret, do you want to add anything?”
“That depends on how detailed that information of yours is,” Nefret replied. “What did you say about Ramses and David? You know how Aunt Evelyn worries.”
“You may read the letter if you like.”
Ramses leaned over her shoulder and read with her. “Hmmm. You have vivid powers of description, Mother. Perhaps I had better add a few lines of reassurance.”
“With your left hand?” Nefret shook her head. “My dear boy, a scrawl like that would only worry Aunt Evelyn more. I know; I will append a medical report. The facts will be less alarming than the fancies a loving imagination can invent.”
She was still writing when Selim and Daoud came in. They were to catch the morning train, so Emerson gave them money for expenses and warned them again to be on the alert.
“Stay until you have seen them board the boat,” he instructed. “No matter how long it takes. Curse it,” he added gloomily, contemplating the reduction of his work force by two of its most valuable members.
“What if Mr. Walter Emerson will not go?” Selim inquired.
“Knock him on the head and—”
“Now, Emerson, don’t confuse the lad,” I said, for Selim’s eyes and mouth had gone wide with consternation. “You must just . . . Well. What should he do?”
“It is high time someone asked that question,” said Ramses. “We’ve been talking about them as if they were parcels to be dispatched at our convenience. I’ve seen Aunt Evelyn in action, and I assure you she will not take kindly to being ordered about.”
“Walter won’t want to go either,” I agreed. “But there is the child. They cannot send her home unaccompanied, and they surely won’t expose her to danger. No loving parent would.”
The silence that ensued was not precisely uncomfortable. Not precisely. Ramses, who was standing behind Nefret with his hands resting on the back of her chair, stared off into space with a particularly blank expression.
“Hmph,” said Emerson loudly. “Selim was quite right to raise the point. There is a possiblity, I suppose, that Walter will pack Evelyn and the child onto the boat and come on here himself. Evelyn might not like it, but she would accept it. Not even she would expect him to let her come alone, or bring Lia.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” I said. “If one or all of them insists on coming here, Selim, he—or she!—must do as she likes. They are free agents, after all. We can only advise and warn, we cannot command them.”
We gave the letters to Selim and wished him and Daoud a good journey. Daoud embraced David and wrung Ramses’s and Emerson’s hands. He was a very silent man, but he had followed every word with extreme interest, and he was obviously pleased and proud to have been selected for such an important mission.
We dispersed shortly thereafter. Emerson went off arm in arm with Nefret; I knew he would find some transparent excuse to search her room before he let her enter it. I followed Ramses, and caught him up at the door of his room.
“Yes, Mother?” He raised an inquiring eyebrow.
“How is your hand? Would you like me to have