The Snake, the Crocodile, and the Dog - Elizabeth Peters [154]
“It is a pity he didn’t think of examining the dog earlier,” said Cyrus critically. “He might have spared you all that agony, my dear.”
“It was my idea to examine the dog,” Emerson said. “Locating at short notice an animal in the appropriate stage of rabies is not as easy as you might suppose, and few men, however hardened, would care to risk handling it. However, the idea did not occur to me immediately, and the cauterization could not have been delayed. Every second counts with such injuries. Once the disease enters the bloodstream… Well, there is no need to think of that. The dog was deliberately tortured and shut up in the house to await our arrival. Who knew we would be coming that way?”
“Everyone, I should think,” Charlie said. “This is the day of rest; we assumed—”
“Quite right,” I said. “That line of investigation won’t lead anywhere, Emerson. The villain must have thought it was worth a try. All he stood to lose was one wretched dog. Thank God we came when we did! Its suffering is over now, at any rate.”
“It is so like you to think of that,” Cyrus murmured, taking my hand.
“Hmph,” said Emerson. “You might better be thinking of what would have ensued if Abdullah had not examined the dog.”
“We would have endured days, weeks of suspense,” Kevin said soberly. “Even cauterization does not ensure—”
“No, no,” Emerson said impatiently. “Your sympathetic suffering, O’Connell, would not have interested our attacker. What did he hope to gain by this?”
“The pleasure of picturing you picturing yourself in the ghastly throes of hydrophobia,” I suggested. “Violent paroxysms of choking, tetanic convulsions, extreme depression, excitability …”
Emerson gave me a very old-fashioned look. “You are as bad as O’Connell. You were the one the dog attacked, not I.”
“But you were the intended victim,” I insisted. “You always forge ahead of the rest of us; you would have been the first to hear the poor animal’s cries, and anyone who knows your character would realize how you would, inevitably, respond to such—”
“As you did.” Emerson’s eyes were fixed on my face. “You ran like the very devil, Peabody. How did you know the dog constituted a danger?”
I had hoped he would not wonder about that. “Don’t be ridiculous,” I said, with a good show of irritability. “I was not concerned about the dog; I feared it might have been employed as a means of luring you into a trap of some kind, that is all. You are always rushing in where angels fear—”
“Unlike you,” said Emerson. “I suppose you tripped and fell against me without intending to?”
“Quite,” I said, in my most dignified tones.
“Hmph,” said Emerson. “Well. It does not matter which of us was the intended victim. What would we have done, had we believed the dog was rabid?”
Cyrus clasped my hand tighter. “I would have ordered a train and taken her straight to Cairo, of course. The Pasteur treatment must be available in the hospitals there.”
“Very good, Vandergelt,” said Emerson. “And somewhere along the way, I suspect, a group of kindly strangers would have relieved you of your charge. Unless … oh, curse it!” He leapt to his feet, eyes bulging. “What a fool I am!” And without further ado he rushed out of the room, leaving the door swinging on its hinges.
“Oh, curse it!” I echoed with equal vehemence. “Go after him, Cyrus! Confound my skirts and my foot and my knees… Hurry, I say!”
When I speak in that tone I am seldom disobeyed (and when I am, it is always by Ramses). Cyrus gave me a startled glance before following after Emerson. Charles looked at René. René looked at Charles. Charles shrugged. As one man they rose and left the room.
Kevin stood irresolutely in the doorway, one foot in and one foot out. “Where is he going?”
“I have not the least idea. I can only assume