The Hippopotamus Pool - Elizabeth Peters [3]
I have often been asked to account for the frequency of our encounters with criminals of various varieties, but in my considered opinion it resulted inevitably from two causes: first, the uncontrolled state of excavation during the period in question, and second, the character of my husband. From the first, and at first almost single-handedly, Emerson fought tomb robbers, inept inspectors of antiquities and unprincipled collectors in his crusade to preserve the historic treasures of Egypt. Needless to say, I was ever at his side in the pursuit of knowledge and of villains.
I
The Trouble with Unknown Enemies Is That They Are So Difficult to Identify
THROUGH the open windows of the ballroom the soft night breeze of Egypt cooled the flushed faces of the dancers. Silk and satin glowed; jewels sparkled; gold braid glittered; the strains of sweet music filled the air. The New Year’s Eve Ball at Shepheard’s Hotel was always an outstanding event in Cairo’s social season, but the dying of this December day marked an ending of greater than usual import. In little more than an hour the chimes would herald the start of a new century: January the first, nineteen hundred.
Having just completed a vigorous schottische in the company of Captain Carter, I sought a quiet corner behind a potted palm and gave myself up to speculation of the sort in which any serious-minded individual would engage on such an occasion. What would the next one hundred years bring to a world that yet suffered all the ancient ills of mankind – poverty, ignorance, war, the oppression of the female sex? Optimist though I am, and blessed with an excellent imagination (excessively blessed, according to my husband), I could not suppose a single century would see those problems solved. I was confident, however, that my gender would finally achieve the justice so long denied it, and that I myself would live to see that glorious day. Careers for women! Votes for women! Women solicitors and women surgeons! Women judges, legislators, leaders of enlightened nations in which females stood shoulder-to-shoulder and back-to-back with men!
I felt I could claim some small credit for the advances I confidently expected to see. I myself had broken one barrier: as the first of my sex to work as a field archaeologist in Egypt, I had proved that a ‘mere’ woman could endure the same dangers and discomforts, and meet the same professional standards, as a man. Candour as well as affection compels me to admit that I could never have done it without the wholehearted support of a remarkable individual – Radcliffe Emerson, the most preeminent Egyptologist of this or any century, and my devoted spouse.
Though the room was filled with people, my eyes were drawn to him as by a magnet. Emerson would stand out in any group. His splendid height and athletic form, his chiselled features and bright blue eyes, the dark hair that frames his intellectual brow – but I could go on for several pages describing Emerson’s exceptional physical and mental characteristics. Humbly I acknowledged the blessings of heaven. What had I done to deserve the affection of such a man?
Quite a lot, in fact. I would be the first to admit that my physical characteristics are not particularly prepossessing (though Emerson has, in private, remarked favourably on certain of them). Coarse black hair and steely grey eyes, a bearing more noted for dignity than grace, a stature of indeterminate size – these are not the characteristics that win a man’s heart. Yet I had won the heart of Radcliffe Emerson, not once but twice; I had stood at his side, yes, and fought at his side, during the remarkable adventures that had so often interrupted our professional activities. I had rescued him from danger, nursed him through illness and injury, given him a son .