The Mummy Case - Elizabeth Peters [109]
“‘Unfortunate’ is not the word. A man murdered, a fire at the mission—it seems, Father, that there have been too many ‘unfortunate’ happenings.”
Even in the shadows where he sat I saw the flash of the priest’s eyes. “Since the coming of the men of God. We had no trouble before they came.”
“They did not set the fire,” Emerson said. “They did not break into my house.”
“You think my people did these things? I tell you, it is the men of God who are responsible. They must go. They cannot stay here.”
“I know there has been provocation, Father,” Emerson said. “I beg you—I warn you—do not let yourself be provoked.”
“Do you take me for a fool?” the priest asked bitterly. “We are no more than slaves in this country, tolerated only so long as we do nothing. If I lifted my hand against the men of God, I and all my people would die.”
“That is true,” I said.
The priest rose. “You come here and accuse me of violence and crime. I tell you again—look to the men of God for answers to your questions. Find out for yourself what kind of men they are. They must leave this place. Tell them.”
We could not have been more firmly dismissed. Emerson bowed in silence, and I felt a certain…well, perhaps embarrassment is the proper word. For the first time I could see the priest’s point of view. The strangers had moved into his town, told his people they were wrong, threatened his spiritual authority, and he had no recourse, for the strangers were protected by the government. A way of life centuries old was passing; and he was helpless to prevent it.
We walked away from the priest’s house. Emerson said, “Perhaps we can persuade Brother Ezekiel to set up headquarters elsewhere.”
“It will require superhuman tact to persuade him, Emerson. The slightest hint that he may be in danger will only make him more determined to stay.”
“Tact, or a direct order from the Almighty.” Emerson’s face brightened. “I wonder…”
“Put it out of your head, Emerson. Your simple parlor magic may work with our people, but I do not believe you can deceive Brother Ezekiel into taking your voice for that of Another.”
The mission was a scene of utter tranquillity. School was in session. The drone of voices came through the open windows like the buzz of bees on a lazy summer afternoon. The shadows of palm and tamarisk lay cool upon the ground; and in a shady corner a sewing class was in progress. The little girls sat with their bare feet modestly tucked under their somber robes and their shining black heads bent over their work. Perched on the block that had served Emerson as a seat, Charity was reading aloud from the Arabic translation of the New Testament. Her gown was of the same dark print she always wore, and perspiration sparkled on her face, but for once she was without the hideous bonnet. Her pronunciation was poor; but her voice was soft and sweet, and the beautiful old story took on added charm because she read it with such feeling. “‘And Jesus said “Let the little children come to me; for the Kingdom of Heaven is theirs.” ’”
I felt as if I were seeing the other side of the argument the priest had presented so eloquently. Brother Ezekiel was the most irritating man in the world and, in my opinion, wholly unfit for the profession he had embraced; but the missionaries were performing a worthwhile task, particularly with the ignorant and ignored little girls. Coptic women were no better off than their Muslim sisters. If the missionaries did nothing else, they might be the salvation of the women of Egypt.
I think even Emerson was moved, though one would not have known it from his expression. Few people see Emerson’s softer side; in fact, some people deny that he has one.
It was not the time for sentiment, however. I repressed my emotions and Emerson said in a low voice, “We are in luck. Here’s our chance to talk to the girl alone.”
I cleared my throat loudly. There was a serpent in the little Paradise after all; the harmless sound made Charity start violently and look around with fear writ large upon her face. I stepped out from the shadow of