The Hippopotamus Pool - Elizabeth Peters [86]
All the same, I decided I had better get Nefret out of Ramses’ room, for he would never rest if she ordered him to. My premonitions were accurate and my advent fortuitous; Ramses, lips set and eyes furious, was resisting Nefret’s efforts to ‘tuck him in.’ I tucked him in and removed Nefret. Seeing that Gertrude had obeyed my orders and was on the upper deck, a book in her hand and her eyes fixed unseeingly on the horizon, we retreated to the saloon.
I had expected Nefret would complain of Ramses’ stubbornness and lack of appreciation, but she had something more serious on her mind. ‘I did not want to ask in front of Ramses, Aunt Amelia, it might upset him; but will you tell me what occurred this morning at the house of David’s cruel employer?’
‘How do you know that was where we went?’
A disturbing little smile played round her lips. ‘I know the Professor well, Aunt Amelia, and I have seen that same look in the eyes of other men. As you said, I have had more experience in such matters than English girls of my age.’
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Well, Nefret, the Professor is not like other men, he is far superior to them, and he would not . . . He did not . . . Oh dear. Suppose I tell you exactly what happened. There is no reason why Ramses should not know of it; he is not easily upset.’
When I had finished, she nodded thoughtfully. ‘It may be so. The man was standing by the bed when I first saw him, and it may have been some slight sound – a stumble or misstep – that woke me. He did not touch me until I called out. May I see the statuette of Tetisheri you found?’
The abrupt change of subject left me wordless for a moment. ‘Yes, certainly. But don’t you want to talk about the – the other business any longer?’
‘What would be the point? The facts we know are few and they can be interpreted in several different ways. If you and the Professor believe the old man was telling the truth . . .’
‘About that, at any rate,’ I murmured. ‘His terror appeared to be genuine – and, I assure you, well founded. I am not sure about the rest of it.’
So I went off to fetch Tetisheri, whom Emerson had left in our room. The conversation had convinced me that Nefret was not hiding fears of which she was reluctant to speak. I am a keen observer, and I had watched her closely as she spoke of that unpleasant adventure; there had not been a tremor, a change in colour or in the tone of her voice. I believe in the subconscious, but only up to a point.
Since I had not had an opportunity to look closely at the statue, we examined it together and compared it with the photographs of the one in the British Museum. They appeared to be identical. It was Nefret who pointed out that even the break in the hieroglyphic inscription on the base had been copied exactly.
I left her studying – with my permission – my translation of ‘The Hippopotamus Pool,’ and went about my duties. Domestic arrangements – ordering meals, checking supplies, washing the horses – filled several hours; it was almost teatime when I returned to Ramses’ room, to find, as I had expected, that Nefret had returned to what she considered her duty. The atmosphere was surprisingly cordial, however. Selim was curled up on the mat, sound asleep. The cat Bastet lay across the foot of the bed, and Ramses, propped up with pillows like a young sultan, held the Tetisheri statue. The photographs of the original lay beside him; he and the other two had obviously been comparing them.
‘I have told Ramses and David,’ Nefret was quick to remark. ‘You said I might.’
I had not said she could tell David. However, there was no sensible reason why I should object. At a gesture from Ramses the lad fetched a chair for me and I seated myself.
‘Did you make this, David?’ I asked.
‘No, ma’am.’
Ramses and/or Nefret must have been teaching him manners as well as English – and heaven knows what else. On this occasion his English vocabulary was inadequate for the purpose; after a few attempts