The Last Camel Died at Noon - Elizabeth Peters [59]
“I see,” Reggie said—though it was evident he did not. “Well, then… You are right, Professor. An expedition must be mounted, and certainly not by you—not while you bear the responsibility for these precious lives. And not by the military authorities, who will never be convinced to act in time, if they act at all.” Rising to his feet, he stood straight and tall, his hair blazing in the sunlight. “You will assist me with advice, I hope—help me acquire the necessary camels, servants, supplies?”
“Sit down, you young idiot,” Emerson growled. “What melodrama! You are incapable of leading such an expedition, and in any case you could not set forth this instant.”
I added my entreaties to Emerson’s. “My husband is right, Reggie. We have a great deal to discuss before any action is taken. As Emerson has said, this broken arrow is of paramount importance. Was it snapped off during the struggle between you and your assailant last night? Could you have mistaken some other man of the same height and build for Kemit? I cannot believe it was he, and yet his disappearance does cast doubt upon his—”
A high-pitched cry from Reggie stopped me. He leapt to his feet, eyes popping, and fumbled for the revolver at his belt.
Without stirring from his chair, Emerson stretched out a long arm and clamped his fingers over Reggie’s wrist. Reggie let out an oath. I turned. Behind me stood our missing servant.
Kemit folded his arms. “Why does the white man scream like a woman?”
I could not blame Reggie for being startled by Kemit’s sudden reappearance, and my reply was a trifle acerbic. “The day you hear ME utter a sound like that, Kemit, you will be justified in making such an insulting comparison. Mr. Forthright was surprised, and so are we all. We believed you had left us.”
“You see it is not so, Lady.”
“Where are your friends?”
“It is the day of rest,” said Kemit. The corners of his thin lips compressed, as they did when he had said all he intended to say, so I did not ask where and how his friends spent their free time. Besides, as Emerson would have pointed out, it was none of my business.
“Very well,” I said. “I apologize for my unjust suspicion, Kemit. Go and enjoy your day of rest.”
Kemit bowed and walked away. Ramses rose to his feet and was following when I called him back. “From now on, young man,” I said sternly, “you are not to be out of my sight or that of your papa. We have no reason to think that Kemit is involved in our difficulties, but until we know who is, you must not go off alone with anyone.”
“Quite right, Peabody,” said Emerson. “And that prohibition includes you, Mr. Forthright. Devil take it, you are far too quick to attack people. If I let loose of your arm will you sit down and behave yourself?”
“Certainly, Professor,” Reggie said. He passed his free hand across his perspiring brow. “I apologize. The way he appeared, like a genie from a bottle… You think me rash, but I swear to you, that man knows more than he is saying. I cannot imagine why you trust him as you do.”
“I don’t trust anyone,” said Emerson with a snap of his teeth. “Now let us stop wasting time and get back to business. I hope you were not serious when you announced your intention of going off to look for your uncle.”
He released Reggie’s arm. The young man rubbed it, wincing. “Quite serious, Professor. I am only ashamed that it took me so long to decide. I intend to leave immediately for the military camp, to ask the advice of Slatin Pasha and begin gathering the necessary supplies.”
Emerson took out his pipe and tobacco pouch. “It might be wise to ascertain first where you intend to go. You don’t even have the purported map your grandfather received; he left it with me, and I never returned it.”
A smile spread across the young man’s face. “My grandfather took a copy of it, Professor—and I in turn took a copy of his. I have it with me. And I rather suspect you have the original here. Am I right?”
Emerson concentrated on filling his pipe. Not until he had completed the exercise and lit the thing did he speak.