The Hippopotamus Pool - Elizabeth Peters [97]
‘That is undeniable. What are you trying to say, Gertrude?’
Her eyes fell and a deep blush suffused her face; but she spoke out stoutly. ‘My first impression, that terrible night, was that the man had entered her room in order to . . . to . . .’
‘Ravish her?’ I inquired. ‘I hardly think so. That particular crime is almost unknown in Egypt, and only a madman would attack a foreign female – much less a female under the protection of the Father of Curses.’
‘Perhaps you are right,’ Gertrude murmured. ‘But you cannot blame me for fearing the worst. The sight of the poor child, her garment torn, her terror so great that she flew at me when I attempted to reassure her . . .’
A shudder ran through her. I said impatiently, ‘Yes, Gertrude, I have heard your explanation. Enough; I don’t want to spoil this joyful reunion with depressing conversation. Suppose we . . . Ah, but there are the men, returning. Walter is safe and sound, you see.’
Safe he was, but not entirely sound; his hands were scraped, his face brightly flushed, his garments ripped and soaked with perspiration. However, when I proposed that we return at once to the dahabeeyah he looked at me in astonishment.
‘Now? Out of the question. The men have found decorated fragments! They are lowering the basket now. Inscriptions, my dear Amelia, inscriptions! I distinctly saw hieroglyphic writing!’
He pulled away from Evelyn and went limping off towards Emerson, who was supervising the descent of the precious basket. I looked at Sir Edward, who had followed Walter at a discreet distance. Smoothing his damp hair, he said with his engaging smile, ‘I have been privileged to witness a professional discussion between two of the greatest experts in the field. There is certainly writing on one of the pieces. The Professor will want photographs, I expect; please excuse me.’
‘There is no use trying to get Walter away now,’ I said to Evelyn, who was murmuring distressfully. ‘Let us go to the dahabeeyah, you and I. The others can follow.’ Lowering my voice, I added, ‘I must talk to you in private.’
I announced our departure to Emerson, who replied with an abstracted grunt. Ramses was in the thick of the crowd as usual, trying to get a look at the fragments before his uncle could do so. Drawing him aside I told him to find Nefret and stay with her.
‘She is with David,’ Ramses said. ‘I trust you are not implying he –’
‘I am not implying anything, I am giving you an order. Don’t let her out of your sight. And don’t ask me why. And try not to annoy her any more than you can help.’
Ramses folded his arms and raised his eyebrows. ‘Is there anything else, Mother?’
‘Probably. But I can’t think what at this moment.’
He escorted us to the donkeys. Nefret and David were sitting on the ground a short distance away. Her bright head and David’s black were close together, bent over something David was holding. It appeared to be a notebook resembling the ones Ramses used.
‘What are they doing?’ I asked, as Ramses helped his aunt to mount.
‘We are teaching him to read,’ Ramses said.
‘English? He can’t even speak the language!’
‘He is learning it,’ said Ramses. ‘Do you object, Mother?’
‘No, I suppose not. Tell Nefret . . . I had better tell her myself. Put on your hat, Nefret!’
‘She does not like taking orders from Ramses,’ Evelyn said with a smile, as the donkeys trotted off.
‘You noticed that; did you?’
‘I was glad to see it, Amelia. When she first came to us she was so meek and obedient I feared she would allow Ramses to bully her – with the best of intentions, naturally. She has gained more confidence now and her natural strength of character has emerged.’
‘I hadn’t thought of it quite that way,’ I admitted. ‘You reassure me, Evelyn, as you always do. Their constant quarrelling tries my nerves, but that state of affairs is certainly preferable to Ramses’ initial infatuation. He was so bedazzled he could hardly pronounce her name.’
‘He was only a little boy,’ Evelyn replied tolerantly. ‘I felt