The Snake, the Crocodile, and the Dog - Elizabeth Peters [141]
My own poor powers of reasoning are so inferior to yours, dear Amelia, that I hesitate even to express thoughts that must long ago have been apparent to your clear, decisive mind. Yet I will venture to do so, in the hope that by sheer chance I may have stumbled on some notion that has not occurred to you.
I began as I believe you might have done, by asking how these terrible people could have learned the secret you were so careful to conceal. The story you gave out was plausible, so our enemies must have had sources of information not known to the public. Several possibilities have occurred to me; I list them in the neat order you would approve.
1. One of us might unwittingly have betrayed information that could only have come from a visit to the place mentioned by Mr. Forth. You would never be indiscreet enough to do this, dear Amelia; search my conscience as I might, I can think of no occasion on which I might have done so. I do not wish to ask Walter, for the very idea that he might be responsible, however innocently, for the troubles that have befallen us would break his noble heart. Yet I wonder: Did he or Radcliffe speak, in the articles they have written since your return, or to colleagues in archaeology, of things an expert might recognize as firsthand knowledge? The articles have not yet been published, but surely they have been read by the editors of the journals at least?
2. One of the officers at the military camp may have had more information about the matter than you realize. Had Mr. Forthright befriended any of them? Had they been shown the map? You mentioned that there were compass readings on it. I know little of such matters, but it would seem to me that such precise details would arouse interest and intelligent speculation, particularly after you came back to Gebel Barkal with Nefret.
3. I hesitate to mention this, for it seems even more foolish than my other silly ideas; but I cannot help recalling the young man Nefret met at Miss Mcintosh’s school. An individual whose curiosity had already been aroused might seek her out with the intention of questioning her about her experiences. As we all know, it is very difficult to avoid slips of the tongue, and an innocent child is particularly unwary. I wonder— I can put it no more strongly than that— I wonder if that fleeting acquaintance might not have been renewed, or an attempt made to do so, if she had not already given him what he hoped to get? At my request she performed the Invocation to I sis for us one evening. (Do not fear, dear Amelia, I made certain she thought it was only for our amusement.) Walter could not contain his excitement. He recognized some of the phrases of the song, which he said were from an ancient ritual. And certainly no one could suppose that she learned that dance, or would have been permitted to perform it, at a Christian mission!
So I questioned her, with equal tact, I assure you, about the young man she called Sir Henry. He had thick waving black hair, parted down the middle; a cavalry-style mustache; gray or pale-blue eyes and long lashes. He was of medium height and slender build, with a fair complexion and a rather pointed chin and narrow nose.
I know this description is too vague to be of much use (especially since, if my silly idea is right, a disguise might have been employed). However, I pass it on to you because another and very alarming thought has occurred to me. This person’s failure to pursue the acquaintance with Nefret might stem from the fact that he is no longer in England. Your recent communications have attempted to reassure us, dear Amelia, but I know you very well, and I sense a formality and stiffness that suggests you are concealing something from us. I would not urge you to greater candor; I appreciate the tender affection that makes you reluctant to add to our concern. (Though I might add, my dear friend and sister, that speculation often conjures up fears far worse than the truth.) Logic also forces upon me the conclusion that if the children have been threatened,