The Golden One - Elizabeth Peters [183]
“How did you get into the camp?” Ramses asked curiously.
“Walked up to the gate and announced myself,” said his father, holding out his cup for me to refill it. “El-Gharbi was not surprised to see me—he had heard of our return. He seems to hear everything. He wanted me to pay him for the damage to the motorcar.”
“Did you?” Nefret asked, torn between amusement and disgust.
“No. His people had stolen the thing, hadn’t they? I assured him,” said Emerson, with another wary glance at me, “that I would speak on his behalf. Exile, to his village in Upper Egypt, would satisfy him and settle my debt.”
“Oh, dear,” I murmured. “Well, Emerson, you acted according to your lights, I suppose. Go and clean up, it is past time for luncheon.”
I followed him into our room, for I knew that if I did not assist his ablutions he would get the cast wet.
“I trust el-Gharbi was properly appreciative,” I said, assisting him to remove his shirt.
“In his fashion. He said something rather strange.”
“What? Let me do that, Emerson.”
I took the dripping washcloth from his hand.
“ ‘The young serpent also has poisoned fangs.’ ”
“I beg your pardon, Emerson?”
“Those were his precise words, Peabody. I haven’t the vaguest idea what they mean, but it has the ring of a warning, doesn’t it?”
“Hmm. Perhaps he was referring to Jamil.” I put the washcloth down and picked up a towel.
“The warning comes a bit late,” said Emerson. “But that is how soothsayers and fortune-tellers and such individuals make their reputations, by predicting what has already happened. The devil with it, and el-Gharbi. I stopped by the railroad station and made reservations. We will take the train tonight.”
I did not wire ahead. We would probably arrive before the telegram was delivered, and Fatima always kept the house in perfect order. The happy surprise I had planned for her and the others was spoiled, however, by the network of gossip that encompasses Luxor. By the time we reached the house, the whole family was on the veranda waiting for us. Sennia darted at Ramses, shouting, “See how much taller and stronger I am?”
Before any of us could stop her, she had thrown her arms round him in one of her gigantic hugs. We always pretended to be left breathless by her strength, but she knew at once that his gasp of pain was not feigned, and began fussing and apologizing. She made him sit down and lifted both his feet onto a stool.
“You’ve been and got yourselves into trouble again,” said Gargery sternly. “Was it that Master Criminal chap? I trust, sir and madam, that he isn’t going to turn up here. We’ve got enough problems without that.”
“What sort of problems?” I asked.
“There is no trouble, Sitt,” said Fatima, with a reproachful glance at Gargery. “Rest and I will bring tea.”
Gargery would not be silenced. “It’s mostly these young women, madam. That girl that was working for Miss Nefret has been round saying you promised to find her a husband. She’s got a chap in mind and wants you to pin him down before he can get away.”
We all laughed except Sennia, who was still fussing over Ramses. “She didn’t put it that way, surely,” Nefret said.
“She keeps coming round,” said Gargery gloomily. “And then there’s Jumana. Won’t eat, won’t talk, won’t work. It puts a person off, madam, just seeing that gloomy face. And Mrs. Vandergelt—”
“Enough, Gargery,” Emerson snarled. “Can’t we have a single day of peace and quiet? No one is desperately ill, no one is dead, no one is missing? Good. Mrs. Emerson will deal with these minor difficulties in due time.”
“Thank you, my dear,” I said.
The sarcasm was wasted on Emerson. “Good to be back,” he declared with great satisfaction. “No use asking Gargery how things are going at Deir el Medina, but I expect Vandergelt will be here before long, with his own list of complaints. Never a dull moment, eh? Sennia, you haven’t given me a kiss. My arm is bothering me quite a lot.”
Cyrus was courteous enough not to disturb us for the greater part of the day. We were sitting