The Snake, the Crocodile, and the Dog - Elizabeth Peters [74]
“I have kept a weapon close at hand ever since the Professor’s telegram arrived,” she explained coolly. “He is not a man to start at shadows, and although I am deeply grateful for the loyal protection of our friends, it is not in my nature to cower in a corner while others risk their lives in my defense. The Professor made it clear that Ramses and I were the ones in danger, not of assassination but of abduction. We know what the abductors want. Who could give them that information? Only your mother and father, Ramses; they alone know the way to the place the villains seek.”
“I could retrace my steps—“ I began with some indignation.
She raised a finger to her lips. “I know that, dear brother. But in this world children are treated like pet animals, without sense or memory, and you are one of the few who could do what you claim. I could not. If they want you, it can only be as a hostage, to wring information from those who love you.”
“And you,” I hastened to assure her.
“Those who threaten us may reason so. Fear not, I will defend myself; I carry a knife as well as a bow and will use either if I must.” Her face grew grave. “It is not for us I fear, but for the Professor and Aunt Amelia. They have not our strong protectors. They are in the greatest danger.”
Her wise words made me realize, dear Mama and Papa, that in my concern for her I had not given enough attention to your predicament. I should be at your side. I proposed this to Uncle Walter, but he absolutely refused to buy a steamship ticket for me, and since I only possess one pound eleven shillings sixpence I cannot carry out the transaction without his financial assistance. Please telegraph at once and tell him to let me come. I am reluctant to leave Nefret, but the duty (and of course affection) of a son supersedes all other responsibilities. Besides, she has Gargery and the others. Besides, she does very well without me. Please telegraph immediately. Please be careful.
Your loving (and at this point in time extremely anxious) son,
Ramses.
P.S. Gargery was very disappointed that he could not rescue Nefret like Sir Galahad.
P. P.S. If you telegraph immediately I can be with you in ten days’ time.
P.P.P.S. Or thirteen at the most.
P.P.P.P.S. Please be careful.
It would have required a great deal to turn my attention from Emerson at that moment, but this astonishing epistle almost succeeded. I recalled having mentioned to Ramses, on one occasion, that literary flourishes were best restricted to the written form. Obviously he had taken the suggestion to heart; but his questionable literary devices (swooning, indeed! What had the child been reading?) did not conceal his genuine emotion. Poor Ramses! To be rescued instead of rescuer—to fall off a horse, to be dragged out of a ditch and held up like a sack of dirty laundry, dripping with muddy water, before the eyes of the girl he yearned to impress… His humiliation had been complete.
And he had taken it like a man and an Emerson! He had only praise for her whose achievements had cast his into the shade. And how touching to a maternal heart was that piteous admission: “She does very well without me.” Poor Ramses indeed.
As for Nefret, her behavior confirmed my initial impression of her character and convinced me that she would be a worthy addition to our little family. She had acted with the same vigor and independence I would have displayed, and as effectively. I am not accustomed to cower in corners either.
The very idea of Ramses at my side trying to protect me chilled the blood in my veins, and I only hoped Walter could prevent him from robbing a bank or playing highwayman in order to get the money.