The Hippopotamus Pool - Elizabeth Peters [77]
He was unable to monopolize Nefret, however, because several of the other gentlemen (and Ramses) surrounded her. M. Legrain, who was in charge of the work at the Karnak temple, found her particularly fascinating. He was French, of course.
In such a group and on such an occasion, idle social chit-chat soon gave way to professional conversation. We were besieged with questions about the tomb, but Emerson, usually decided to the point of dogmatism, was uncharacteristically cagey.
‘At this stage I prefer not to commit myself. You know my views on excavation. The corridor is filled with debris; it will take some time to clear it and examine the material.’
‘But the burial chamber,’ Howard exclaimed. ‘Did the thieves enter it? Is the mummy intact? Surely you will investigate that before –’
‘Surely not,’ said Emerson, giving him a frosty stare. ‘Mrs Emerson and I are motivated by scientific principle, not idle curiosity.’
‘So Mrs Emerson will be working with you?’ The speaker was Sir Edward. Raising one eyebrow, he looked from me to Emerson and back to me. ‘Doing what, if I may ask?’
‘Excavating,’ I said. ‘Examining the debris, noting any artefacts we may find and their precise location.’
‘In the tomb itself?’
‘It would be difficult to carry out those activities anywhere else.’
The eyebrow rose even higher. Then he laughed and raised his glass of wine. ‘My respectful salutations, Mrs Emerson. I begin to see that a lady may be . . . in short, a lady, with all the grace, beauty and charm of her admirable sex, and still be as daring and capable as any man. My prejudices have been shaken; dare I venture to hope that continued association with you will shatter them entirely?’
‘Speaking of that,’ said Emerson, and drew the young man aside.
This rather abrupt ending of the general discussion caused the others to break up into smaller groups. Ramses was deep in conversation with M. Legrain; as I approached I realized the latter was describing, with exuberant Gallic gestures, an event that had occurred at Karnak a few months earlier. Several of the monolithic columns of the Hypostyle Hall had collapsed, with a crash that shook the entire town of Luxor.
‘It was an event formidable,’ Legrain exclaimed.
‘It must have been,’ said Ramses politely. He added in a meditative voice, ‘Lucky for me I was not there at the time.’
‘Pardon?’ said M. Legrain.
I came to a dead stop and stared at the back of my son’s head. I was not tempted to ask him to repeat the statement – I had heard it quite clearly – but I could not believe what I had heard. I did have a tendency (an understandable tendency, considering his history) to blame Ramses for anything untowards that might occur in his immediate vicinity, but surely he did not suppose that I would suspect him of blowing up the temple of Karnak!
Could it be that Ramses was developing a sense of humour?
Ramses turned and saw me. There was certainly a gleam in his eye. In anyone but Ramses I would have called it a twinkle.
By the end of the evening even I had begun to flag a trifle, after a sleepless night and a day full of exertion, but as I sat before the mirror giving my hair its usual hundred strokes I mentally reviewed the activities of the day and felt satisfied that all was in order. Another cot had been moved into Ramses’ room. M. Legrain had offered his assistance and that of his men. (Emerson, who had no intention of letting another archaeologist in on our discovery, had declined the offer.) Messages had begun to pour in – from M. Maspero, offering congratulations; from Cyrus Vandergelt, just arrived in Cairo, expressing his intention of proceeding as quickly as