The Mummy Case - Elizabeth Peters [114]
“A man brought this, Sitt,” he said, handing me a folded paper.
“What man?”
Abdullah shrugged. “One of the infidels.”
“Thank you, my friend.”
Abdullah bowed and withdrew.
“Well, Peabody, what is it?” Emerson asked, adding a finished page to the stack of pay sheets.
“It appears to be a note. It is addressed to me. I don’t recognize the writing, but I think I can guess—”
“Stop guessing and open it,” Emerson said impatiently.
I shook off the strange apprehension that had seized me. Never before had I had so strong a sensation of evil—of some monstrous shadow waiting in the darkness with fangs bared. And all from a folded sheet of paper!
Something in my expression as I read alerted the others. Emerson threw down his pen and rose. John sat staring, mute and expectant.
“It is from Charity,” I said. “Your warning was not in vain after all, Emerson. She asks for our help.”
“When?”
“Now. This very night.”
John leaped to his feet. “Wot ’as ’appened?” he cried, wringing his hands. “Where is she? Is she in danger?”
“Now, John, calm yourself. She is in no immediate danger. She asks us to meet her…” I checked myself. John’s staring eyes and pallid cheeks testified to the depth of his concern. I did not want him running to the mission to rescue his lady; he had already displayed an unfortunate propensity for unnecessary rescues. I said, “Go to your room, John.”
“You can’t talk to him as if he were Ramses,” said Emerson. “Speaking of Ramses—”
“Yes, quite. I follow you, Emerson. John, I assure you there is no need for alarm. We will meet the young lady and listen to her story. If in our opinion there is the slightest cause for concern as to her safety, we will fetch her here.”
“You’ll come at once and tell me what ’as ’appened, madam,” John implored.
“Of course. Run along now.”
John departed, with dragging steps and backward looks. I handed Emerson the note.
“Midnight,” Emerson muttered. “Why do all persons in distress pick on midnight? It is a damned inconvenient hour, too early to get some sleep beforehand and too late to—”
“Sssh. I don’t want anyone to overhear. Especially Ramses.”
“She does not appear to have any sense of imminent peril,” Emerson said, reading on. “But she is obviously distressed. What do you suppose, is this ‘terrible thing’ she has discovered?”
“I have an idea, I think.”
“Oh yes, so do I. I only wondered whether she had discovered what I already know.”
It lacked an hour till the time of the assignation. We employed it in putting Ramses to bed. He was in an aggravating mood, inventing one distraction after another in order to detain us. “I have deciphered de Coptic, Mama,” was his final effort. “Do you want to know what it says?”
“Not now, Ramses. Tomorrow.”
“It is very interesting, Mama. Dere is a mention on de smaller fragment of de son of—”
“‘The Son of God’ is one of the appellations of Jesus,” I explained. “Your religious training has been sadly neglected, Ramses. It is an omission I mean to remedy for, whatever are your dear papa’s opinions on the subject, an English gentleman should be familiar with the rudiments, at least, of Anglican doctrine. Hop into bed, now.”
“Yes, Mama. De gospel according to Saint Thomas—”
“That is just what I mean, Ramses. There is no gospel of Saint Thomas. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John…. There is a pretty little prayer that begins with the names of the Evangelists; I will teach it to you. But not now. Good night, my son.”
“Good night, Mama,” Ramses said resignedly.
The remaining time passed very slowly. I was intensely curious to hear what Charity would say. Finally Emerson decided we should leave. Abdullah had fallen asleep, but he woke instantly when we opened the door. Emerson explained we were going for a stroll and would be back before long.
“I wonder why she chose such a remote spot,” he said, as we set out across the moonlit sands.
“She could hardly arrange to meet us in the village, Emerson. And she knows we have been working at the pyramid.”
My heart beat fast as we approached the sunken area. The trenches of our excavations