The Deeds of the Disturber - Elizabeth Peters [8]
I realized I was still standing, with water dripping off me and the big sponge I held. I burst out laughing. ‘Emerson, you are too absurd. If you will hand me that towel –’
In a single bound Emerson crossed the room and clasped me to his breast.
I attempted to expostulate, pointing out the open window, the time of day, the slippery condition of my person (and his), the possibility of interruption by the safragi, Ramses, and/or the cat. Emerson’s only intelligible reply was a reference to a certain volume of Arabic verse which recommends a number of notions which would never ordinarily occur even to the most devoted of married persons. I soon realized he was beyond appeals of a rational nature and abandoned the argument; and indeed, at a somewhat later time, I readily agreed with his suggestion that the volume in question might open up a number of new and interesting possibilities.
It was with heavy hearts that we bade farewell to our faithful friend Abdullah and his extremely extended family at the railway station in Cairo. Abdullah had wanted to escort us to Port Said (at our expense), but I had persuaded him otherwise. Though the beard which had been grizzled when we first met was now snowy white, Abdullah was as fit as a fellow half his age, but in moments of depression or high drama he was inclined to make mournful references to his increasing years and the possibility that we might never meet again. The more prolonged the parting, the more painful it would be – for me, not for Abdullah, who relished drama of all sorts.
Hence our departure was less painful than it might have been. The men, including Emerson and Ramses, squatted on the platform laughing and joking and recalling the events of the past season. When the time for the departure of the train was imminent, our devoted fellows cleared a path through the crowd and carried us on their shoulders to the door of our compartment. So great is the affectionate respect felt by all Egyptians for my famous husband that few of the people who were accidentally toppled over voiced complaints; and as the train chugged away, a hundred voices blended in the cries of farewell. ‘Allah preserve thee, Father of Curses! The blessings of God be upon thee and thy honoured chief wife, the Sitt Hakim! Ma’es-salâmeh – peace be with thee!’ It was an affecting moment; and tears blurred my vision as I watched young Selim, Ramses’ particular friend, running along the platform to keep us in sight as long as possible.
I had felt some degree of apprehension with regard to the voyage, since we had been unable to provide an attendant for Ramses. The young man who had performed that function had left the position through no fault of his own; he had been placed under arrest for murder in the first degree, a charge from which we were happily instrumental in freeing him. He had returned to England with his bride – another of the romantic successes for which I understand I am becoming known – and although I am always pleased to assist young persons in affairs of the heart, Mr Fraser’s departure had left us in a difficult position, past experience having proven that Ramses, un-attended and on board a ship, constituted a serious threat to shipping and navigation, not to mention the nerves of his parents. Emerson flatly refused to allow him to share our cabin. He was utterly devoted to the lad, mistake me not; but, as he expressed it, ‘not between the hours of midnight and eight A.M.’
For once Ramses caused no trouble. He was fully occupied with some nasty experiments having to do with his study of mummification, and, I am sorry to say, with the book of Arabic poetry which Emerson, in the fatigue following the application of one of the suggested procedures, had neglected to conceal under the mattress, as was his usual custom. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on one’s viewpoint, we did not discover this latter interest until we had almost reached London, since Ramses