Part 16 (1/2)

Emerson removed his arm and leaned forward, reaching for his pipe. ”The incident at Meidum had certain interesting features.”

At first I could not think what he meant. Then I laughed ”That foolish young German shooting at a gazelle? I told you, Emerson, the bullet came nowhere near me. Consider, as well, that only a madman would try to murder me in broad daylight with witnesses all around Success would have been tantamount to suicide for the killer, that hasty temper of yours would have moved you to exact retribution on the spot. Oh, it is too absurd.”

”I am rather inclined to regard the young man as a guardian angel,” Emerson said slowly. ”What became of the workman who promised you an unknown tomb, Peabody? We never saw him again.”

”He was frightened.”

”Bah. It seems to be you, my dear, these unknown individuals are after.”

”The three men who attacked you in the garden- ”

”I told you, they were uncommonly gentle,” Emerson said impatiently ”That attack may have been designed to make sure I was out of the way when my double made off with you. There must be some underlying motive for all these events, and I can't think of anything we have done recently to inspire the interest of the criminal element- except find w.i.l.l.y Forth's lost city of gold.”

”Surely you are jumping to unwarranted conclusions, Emerson. You or I might be able to weave together vague hints and scattered clues, and arrive at the correct conclusion: that Willoughby Forth's fantasies were true, and that we had located his treasure h.o.a.rd. But who else is capable of such brilliant reasoning?”

Slowly Emerson's head turned, exactly as Bastet's head turns when she is planning to jump on some unconscious victim. He looked straight into my eyes.

”No, Emerson,” I exclaimed. ”It cannot be. We have not seen or heard from him for years.”

”Only a man,” said Emerson, ”who has far-flung sources of information covering the world- like a spider's web, I believe you once said, who is familiar with the world of archaeology, its pract.i.tioners, its history and its legends, who has good cause to hate one of us and even better cause to- ”

”My abductor was not the Master Criminal, Emerson. I could hardly be mistaken, after all, I was in intimate if unwilling proximity to the fellow for quite some time.”*

It was not, I admit, the most tactful thing I could have said. Emerson's response consisted of a string of expletives, including several that were unfamiliar to me. It took me considerable time and effort to calm him. My efforts succeeded so well that I was forced to remind him, after an interval, that the windows were uncurtained and that the servants had not gone to bed.

”Let us set them an example, then,” said Emerson, drawing me to my feet. As we proceeded up the stairs he said thoughtfully, ”Perhaps you are right, Peabody. I am still inclined to see the dread hand- another of your literary phrases, is it not?- the dread hand of Sethos everywhere. I may be mistaken as to the ident.i.ty of our opponent, but my theory as to the motive behind these attentions is unshaken. It would take an archaeologist or a keen student of archaeology to put those clues together.”

”I am sure it was not Mr. Budge who tried carry me off, Emerson.”

My little joke had the desired effect. With a smile, Emerson led me into our room and closed the door.

For the next three days we worked in the West Valley. They were halcyon days, nothing disturbed the peaceful productivity of our work except an occasional archaeological visitor who had heard of our presence and- as Emerson put it- came to find out what we were up to, and the cat Anubis, who seemed intent on driving Abullah to felinocide. I endeavored to comfort our afflicted foreman.

”He likes you, Abdullah. It is quite a compliment. The cat Bastet .never paid you such attentions.”

Rubbing his head- which had come into painful contact with a rock when the cat had suddenly jumped onto his shoulder- Abdullah remained unconvinced. ”She is not an ordinary cat, as we all know, does not she speak with the young master, and heed his commands? This one is a servant of evil, as the cat Bastet is a servant of good. Its very name is a bad omen, was not Anubis the G.o.d of cemeteries?”

Emerson's vigilance gradually relaxed as the days pa.s.sed without any alarming incident. For all its isolation, the West Valley was safer than any city. No one could approach without being observed long before he came close to us.

At the end of the third day Emerson announced that we had almost completed the task for which we had come. We had corrected numerous errors in the existing plan of the Valley and located several promising sites that warranted further investigation- including one that offered a suitable hiding place for the scepters Abdullah was pleased to learn we were nearly finished. Mapmaking was not a favorite activity of Abdullah's. Like his master, he preferred to dig.

”How much longer?” he asked, as we started back.

”A week at the outside,” Emerson replied. Glancing at me, he added provocatively, ”Vandergelt Effendi is coming soon. I want to be out of his house before he arrives.”

We had received a telegram from Cyrus the day before, announcing his imminent arrival in Cairo and saying that he looked forward to seeing us shortly.

”Perhaps,” said Abdullah hopefully, ”the cat will stay here with the Effendi.”