The Curse of the Pharaohs - Elizabeth Peters [82]
I was in no mood for sleep either. I arranged a pillow behind me and sat up.
“You have done all you could for Arthur,” I reminded him. “The doctor has agreed to spend the night, and I fancy Mary will not leave him either. Her concern was very touching. It would be quite a romantic situation if it were not so sad. I am more sanguine than Dr. Dubois, though. The young fellow has a strong constitution. I believe he has a chance of recovery.”
“But he will not be able to speak for days, if ever,” Emerson replied, in a tone that told me romance and tragedy alike were wasted on him. “This is getting out of hand, Peabody. How can I concentrate on my tomb with all this nonsense going on? I see I must settle the matter or I will have no peace.”
“Ah.” I sat up alertly. “So you agree with the suggestion I made some time ago—that we must find Armadale and force him to confess.”
“We must certainly do something,” Emerson said gloomily. “And I admit that with Milverton-Baskerville out of the picture, Mr. Armadale is the leading suspect. Curse the fellow! I was prepared to let him escape justice if he would leave me alone, but if he persists in interfering with my work, he will force me to take action.”
“What do you propose?” I asked. Of course I knew quite well what ought to be done, but I had decided it would be more tactful to let Emerson work it out for himself, assisted by occasional questions and comments from me.
“We will have to look for the rascal, I suppose. It will be necessary to enlist some of the Gurneh men for that job. Our people are not familiar with the terrain. I know some of these sly devils quite well; in fact, there are a few old debts owing me which I now intend to call in. I had been saving them for an emergency. Now, I believe, the emergency has come.”
“Splendid,” I said sincerely. Emerson is always surprising me. I had no idea he was so unscrupulous, or that his acquaintance with the criminal element of Luxor was so extensive—for his reference to old debts, I felt sure, must refer to the trade in forgeries and stolen antiquities which is always going on in this region. What he was proposing, in short, was a form of blackmail. I approved heartily
“It will take me all morning to arrange it,” Emerson went on, continuing to pace. “These people are so cursed leisurely. You will have to take charge of the dig, Amelia.”
“Of course.”
“Don’t sound so blasé. You will have to proceed with extreme caution, for fear of rockfalls and traps; and if you do find the burial chamber and enter it without me, I will divorce you.”
“Naturally.”
Emerson caught my eye. His frown turned to a sheepish smile, and then to a hearty laugh. “We don’t make such a bad team, do we, Peabody? By the way, that costume you are wearing is singularly becoming; I am surprised that ladies haven’t adopted it for daytime wear.”
“A pair of drawers and a camisole, lace-trimmed though they are, would hardly constitute fitting daytime wear,” I retorted. “Now don’t try to change the subject, Emerson; we still have a great deal to talk about.”
“True.” Emerson sat down on the foot of the bed. Taking my bare feet in his hands, he pressed his lips to them in turn. My attempts to free myself were in vain; and, to be honest, I did not try very hard.
CHAPTER
Eleven
THE following morning Arthur’s condition was unchanged. He lay in a deep coma, barely breathing. But the mere fact that he had lived through the night was a hopeful sign. I finally forced the physician to admit this. He was a fussy little Frenchman with ridiculous waxed mustaches and a large stomach, but he had quite a reputation among the European colony of Luxor, and after I had questioned him I was forced to admit that he seemed to know the rudiments of his trade. We agreed, he and I, that a surgical operation was not called for at that time; the bone of the skull, though cracked, did not appear to be pressing on the brain. I was,