The Deeds of the Disturber - Elizabeth Peters [31]
He greeted us with an air of reserve which I attributed to youthful modesty; but Emerson soon put him at his ease, wringing his hand and making a little pleasantry about our last meeting. The young man blushed becomingly.
‘I apologize again, Professor. It was a most unfortunate –’
‘Why should you apologize? You are not responsible for Miss Minton’s actions. But perhaps you would like to be, eh? A handsome young lady, and very – er – high-spirited.’
The blush spread from Wilson’s cheeks up to his hairline and down to his chin. He adjusted his eyeglasses. ‘You misunderstand, Professor. I admire, I respect . . . But I would never presume . . .’
‘Well, well,’ said Emerson, becoming bored with the subject. ‘So Budge is playing truant, eh? Good. I won’t have to waste time with him. I will be returning to London in a week’s time, Wilbur – oh yes, Wilson. Make certain my study is ready for me, will you? It is the one on the north side, at the far end.’
‘But that room has been assigned to . . .’ The young man swallowed convulsively. ‘Yes, Professor. Certainly. I will attend to it.’
Emerson and Walter went off to examine the papyrus, and I took Ramses – over his vehement protests – to visit the book and manuscript collection. ‘I know you are only interested in Egyptian antiquities,’ I told him. ‘But your general education has been sadly neglected. It is time you improved your understanding of literature and history.’
Ramses, who was small for his age, could hardly get his nose (or, more pertinently, his eyes) above the top of the cases. After we had inspected the Shakespeare folio and the Gutenberg Bible, the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and the autographs of the kings and queens of England, and I had lectured briefly on them, we examined the logbook of H.M.S. Victory, the flagship of the gallant Nelson. I was distressed, though not surprised, to find that Ramses had never heard of the gallant Nelson. He complained he had a crick in his neck; so, after describing the battle of Trafalgar, I conceded he had probably absorbed enough for one day and graciously permitted him to lead me to the Egyptian Galleries.
How Ramses had learned about the malevolent mummy I do not know. I had certainly taken care not to mention the subject in his hearing. However, his means of acquiring information, particularly on matters that were none of his concern, verged on the uncanny. His hearing and eyesight were preternaturally acute, and although he had reluctantly agreed to abandon the practice of eavesdropping (‘except, Mama, in cases when other, stronger moral considerations prevail’), Emerson was not always careful about watching his tongue.
At any rate, he had heard of the matter and frankly admitted as much when I asked him why he passed by other exhibits that would ordinarily have been of interest to him and headed straight for the room where the mummies were displayed. I must give him credit in this case for candour; instead of pretending, as he might reasonably have done, that he was anxious to see the mummies because he was presently investigating that aspect of Egyptology, he replied, ‘According to the newspapers, it is at this time of day that the individual disguised as a sem priest often appears.’
‘I cannot imagine why you are interested in the aberrations of some poor lunatic, Ramses.’
‘If he is a lunatic,’ Ramses said portentously.
The same doubt had occurred to me, so I could not reproach him for suggesting it. However, I did not feel like discussing it – at least not with Ramses – so I remained silent.
The so-called Mummy Room was always