Crocodile On The Sandbank

12

IT IS vain to attempt to describe my sensations at that moment. I had recognized the sound as that of a bullet. I dropped the lamp; I forgot my injured servant; for an instant I even forgot Evelyn and her deadly peril. I started toward the spot where I had seen Emerson fall.

My heart had not missed more than a few beats, however, when a hand caught my ankle and brought me crashing to the ground. I fell on top of Emerson, and heard his grunt with pain. My hands, fumbling at his face, encountered a wet, sticky flow.

"You are wounded," I exclaimed. "My God, Emerson- "

Emerson sneezed.

"I beg that you will leave off tickling me," he said irritably. "The region around the chin and jaw is particularly sensitive. For God's sake, Peabody, stop sniveling; it is only a cut from a bit of flying rock."

"Oh," I said. "But the shot was aimed at you! In heaven's name, what are you doing now? Don't go out there- "

He was crawling toward the entrance.

"The shot was meant as a warning," he said over his shoulder. "We are safe enough- for the moment- unless we try to leave the tomb. Hand me that shut of Walter's, if you please- it is lying across his bed- and my walking stick. Thank you. Now let us see- "

A second shot rewarded his demonstration when he draped the shirt over the stick and extended it out the doorway. Emerson withdrew it. "He is there, among the rocks," he said calmly.

"He? Who?"

"You sound like one of the villagers' donkeys," said Emerson. "Who else could it be? You must have deduced his identity by now. I have known it for some time; but his motive still eludes me. What the devil ails the fellow, to seek to win a wife by such means? I would not have thought him capable of the insane passion that prompts such acts."

Once- even a few hours earlier- his calm, drawling voice would have driven me wild. Now I was seized by the same icy calm. We had already delayed too long; even if we could escape from this ambush uninjured, Evelyn and her abductor would be out of sight. It was up to Walter now. At least he had only one enemy to face. The other was below, with rifle in his hands.

"There is motive," I said. "I am only now beginning to see… No, no, it is impossible. From the first I too suspected Lucas. But he was not here. He did not arrive until long after we did, long after the Mummy made its first appearance. He did not know we would stop here-"

"I think it is high time we compared notes," said Emerson, recumbent before the entrance. "You might give Michael a little water, Peabody; I fear that is all we can do for the poor fellow now, since we dare not strike a light, and your medical supplies are in your sleeping chamber. Then come here and join me."

I did what I could for Michael. It was little enough. He was still breathing, but that was about all I could say. I then crawled to the entrance and lay down flat, next to Emerson, who was peering out across the moonlit plain, his chin propped on his folded arms. "You and I have been at cross purposes since we met,

Peabody," he said. "It is a pity; for we might have prevented this unfortunate business if we had taken the trouble to be civil to one another. You see, I have known for some days that his lordship has been lying. Reis Hassan talked to the reis of the Cleopatra, and passed some of the gossip on to me. His lordship's payments to his crew have been princely. By means of exorbitant bribes, he got underway the very day after you left. He was moored downriver, at Minieh, the day you landed here.

"But that is not the important thing. His lordship has a confederate- not a hired native, but a man as dedicated to evil as he is. That confederate is the man who is playing the role of the Mummy. This man's whereabouts, prior to his public appearance here, are unknown. I believe he came here some time ago and set the scene for the drama- bribing Mohammed, introducing the mummy Walter found into an empty tomb. His costume, his role were planned well in advance- probably in Cairo, where, I imagine, young Lord Ellesmere arrived earlier than he led you to believe. Do you have an idea who this confederate might be?"

"No. Lucas must have bribed him well. Of course it could be a friend of Lucas's- one of his companions in vice. I do not know them. But, Emerson, there is one great flaw in your argument. How could they know where to set the scene? We did not plan to stop here – "

"Then Reis Hassan is a liar. He informs me that you laid out your itinerary while still in Cairo, and that he tried several times to dissuade you from it."

"Oh, that. I did mention the possibility of visiting Amarna- along with a number of other sites. But how could Lucas know?"

"From Michael, I imagine. Did he have an opportunity to speak with him before you left Cairo?"

"He did indeed," I said grimly. "And to think that we introduced them, so that Michael might assist Lucas in the selection of a dragoman -- Good God, what a fool I was!"

"You had no reason to suspect any danger. Nor did Michael. His lordship was your friend, Evelyn's relation. It was not until developments here became serious that Michael began to wonder about his harmless indiscretion. He is an intelligent man, and devoted to you body and soul; on the day of his disappearance he asked to speak to you alone – "

"And Lucas heard him! He struck him down and spirited him away."

"Not Lucas, but one of his men. He kept the poor fellow prisoner in one of the caves that are so common in these cliffs, and when we obstinately refused to succumb to the laudanum he had placed in our wine, he carried Michael here to distract us while his confederate reached Evelyn.

"I must admit that the fellow has imagination; he acts brilliantly and unhesitatingly in emergencies, and makes good use of any fortuitous circumstances that can be turned to account. My illness was one such lucky accident- lucky for him- but I feel sure he and his confederate had planned some means of detaining you here- damage to the dahabeeyah, or to one of us. At that point in time, his lordship had not determined to commit murder. He hoped to attain his ends by less drastic means, although it seems clear he prepared for the worst, in case it should become necessary. And I was misled. Not until you were attacked this afternoon did I fully realize that Evelyn was the real object of the attentions we have been receiving, and even then I was fool enough to suppose that once she had accepted Walter, his lordship would give up his idiotic and dangerous games."

Emerson extended his stick once again out the entrance. Another shot rang out, followed by the splintering of rock.

"Still there," he said. "I wonder how long he means to keep us here. We are safe so long as we do not confront him. He will have some specious excuse to explain why he failed to rescue Evelyn; I think the fellow is actually vain enough to suppose he can get away with it. Shall we save our skins, Peabody, and sit still?"

"While Evelyn is in the clutches of that monster?" I demanded. "Don't bait me, Emerson; you have no more intention of accepting this than I do. Do you think Walter- "

"I am extremely concerned about Walter," said Emerson; I knew him well enough now to hear the controlled agony under his calm tones. "But at the moment we can do nothing to help him or Evelyn until we understand what is behind this affair. There is some more desperate motive behind his lordship's acts than frustrated love. Think, Peabody; if you have ever used your brain, now is the time."

"I have a faint inkling of the truth," I said, in a stifled voice. "I hate to contemplate it; for if I am right -- Emerson, you and I have behaved like fools. If I had known what you knew about Lucas's movements; and if you had known what I am about to tell you – "

"Speak, then. That is the trouble with women, even the best of them," Emerson added. "They will indulge in vain cries of 'if only' and 'had I but known.'"

"The criticism is justified," I said; my pride was thoroughly leveled by the magnitude of the disaster. "Listen, men, while I narrate Evelyn's story."

He listened. Only his eyes moved, so intent was he on what I had to say.

"Yes," he said, when I finished. "The clue is there, somewhere. A vast amount of money may be an inducement to violence. But how? I cannot see it, even now. Is it possible that his lordship lied to you about the old man's death? If he still lives, and contemplates restoring Evelyn as his heiress – "

"No, he is dead; one of my acquaintances in Cairo knew of it."

Emerson struck his fist against the floor.

"The conclusion is inescapable, Peabody; in some way we do not comprehend, Evelyn must have control of the fortune his lordship so ardently desires. He has done everything a man could do to induce her to become bis wife. I believed his sole motive was passionate love of his cousin. But in this day and age an English girl cannot be forced into marriage, and a forced marriage is the only kind that could come out of this night's work. Nothing the wretch could do now would induce Evelyn to marry him of her own free will. No; it is the lady's money that is being sought, not the lady's person. If we only knew how – "

"I believe I do know," I interrupted. "I told you that before the late Lord Ellesmere died he gathered all Evelyn's belongings and sent them to her. Lucas told me- good heavens, he actually boasted of it- that he was in full control at Ellesmere Castle while the old gentleman lay ill. If Ellesmere had softened toward Evelyn and wished to restore her to favor, Lucas would make certain he did not reach his lawyers in order to make a new will. But he might write a new will- a holograph will, I believe it is called. Knowing Lucas as he did, the poor old man saw only one way to ensure that such a document would survive. He could send it to Evelyn- packed in with her other Possessions. He hoped to escape arousing Lucas's suspicions that way."

"By Gad, Peabody, I think you've got it!" Emerson exclaimed.

"I think so too. Lucas has tried every possible means of getting to those boxes of Evelyn's, or of having them destroyed unopened. He must have missed them in Rome; and when they arrived in Egypt they went into the safekeeping of Baring, who is the most powerful man in the government. He was a friend of Father's, and he knows of Lucas's unsavory reputation; from such a man Lucas had no chance of extracting the precious boxes. Alas; for if he had- "

"Evelyn would not now be in danger," Emerson's quick wits supplied the conclusion. "He may not be certain that such a will exists, but he must have reason to suspect that it does. If he could destroy it he would be safe. Failing that, he pursued Evelyn. As her husband he would have control of her fortune in any case, and he would have a good excuse to take charge of her baggage. But the marriage plan failed as well; thanks to our strenuous efforts, his lordship has now only one means left of gaining his ends… Peabody, you must not blame yourself. How could you possibly have suspected this?"

"I don't blame myself," I said,wiping away the tears that were stealing down my face. "As you say, I could not have suspected. It is the most farfetched scheme I have ever encountered; only a frivolous, amoral man, who had been reading too many wild romances, would think of such a thing. And vain regret is useless. I will not indulge in it. I will get out of here and go after Evelyn, and I will kill his lordship if he has harmed her."

I rose to my knees. Emerson put his hand in the center of my back and pushed me down again.

"I am in complete agreement with your program. But let us try to think of some safer way to do it."

"Can we expect no help from anyone? What of Abdullah? And the crewmen on the boat- surely they heard the shots."

"I have grave suspicions of Abdullah," Emerson said grimly. "You forget, Peabody, that these people are desperately poor."

"And Reis Hassan too? I thought he looked strange the other day when you were questioning him."

"Hassan is one of the few honest men I know. Unfortunately he is also superstitious. He was ashamed to admit to me that he had been terrorized by Mohammed's tales of ghosts and curses. No; he will come, I believe, if he can overcome his fears and persuade his crew. But we cannot count on that. Then there is the crew of his lordship's dahabeeyah to be considered. What if they have been paid to prevent a rescue attempt? No, Peabody, if we are to get out of here in time, it must be by ourselves. And I think we had better set about it."

"But how…?"

"There are pebbles and rocks on the threshold. When I give the signal, begin rolling them down. Meanwhile, I will creep along the path in the other direction and try to get behind him."

"It is a foolhardy scheme," I said. "He will surely see or hear you."

"From below he has a poor chance of hitting me if I keep low. You must cover any sounds I make by the exuberance of your performance and, if possible, induce him to empty the magazine of his repeater. Come, come, Peabody; if you have any more practical suggestion, I will be happy to hear it. I have never had the inclination to be a hero. But we must do something, and soon."

I had nothing to say- nothing practical, that is. There were many things I wanted to say. I wanted to say them so badly that I had to bury my teeth in my lower lip to keep it from forming the words. I turned my head away.

Emerson took me by the shoulders and rolled me over. He had lifted himself upon his elbows; I lay between them, like an unfortunate mouse under a cat's paws. His face was so close I could see the bristles of bis whiskers.

"It seems possible that we shall not live through the night," he remarked. "I would hate to die without having -- Damnation! I will do it, even at the risk of surviving to face the consequences!"

Whereupon he bent his head and kissed me full on the mouth.

At first I was too stupefied by surprise to do anything. Afterward, I was simply too stupefied to do anything. It was not the first time I had been kissed. Several of the suitors who appeared after I inherited Papa's money had presumed -- Well, let us be honest. I had encouraged them to kiss me. I was immensely curious about the process. In all cases it proved to be a deadly bore. It occurred to me, very soon after Emerson began kissing me, that previous experience in this field is not always a dependable guide.

At some point I must have closed my eyes, although I was not aware of doing so. I kept them closed after he raised his head. Thus I did not see him go. He was, I think, somewhat stupefied himself, or he would have waited for me to begin the divertissement he had suggested. The first intimation of his departure I received was a shot that struck the entrance above my head and sprayed my upturned face with little stinging pellets of stone.

I rolled over, snatched up a handful of pebbles, and pitched them down the path. They made considerable racket, but to my straining ears, Emerson's progress along the path made even more noise. I began throwing out everything I could lay my hands on. Boxes, books, bottles and Emerson's boots went tumbling down, followed by tins of peas and peaches, the mirror, and someone's shaving mug. What Lucas thought of this performance I cannot imagine; he must have concluded that we had lost our wits. Such a cacophony of different sounds was never heard. The mirror made a particularly effective crash.

The action accomplished what we had hoped. Lucas was nervous; he let off a perfect fusillade of shots. None of them came anywhere near the mouth of the tomb, so I concluded he was shooting at the mirror, the tins, and the boots. A period of silence ensued. I had meant to count the shots, and had forgotten to do so. It would not have been much use in any case, since I had not the slightest idea of how many bullets the gun held. I could only hope that the cessation of shooting meant that he had emptied the weapon and was now reloading, or refilling, or whatever the term is; and that Emerson had succeeded in descending the cliff unharmed.

He had! Shouts, thuds, the sounds of a furious struggle told me that so far our plan had miraculously succeeded. I leaped to my feet and ran to join the fray, hoping to get in a blow or two on my own account. I had an urge to pound something, preferably Lucas, with my clenched fists.

As I neared the scene of battle I found Emerson engaged, or so it appeared, with two adversaries. The agitation of long white skirts identified one of them as the missing Abdullah.

In the struggle Emerson was flung to the ground. Stepping back, Lucas lifted the rifle to his shoulder and aimed at Emerson's defenseless breast.

I was several yards away, too far to do anything except shout, which of course I did. The sensation was nightmarish; I felt as if I were on a treadmill that ran backward as fast as I ran forward, so that I made no progress at all. I screamed again and ran faster, knowing I would be too late --

And then Abdullah sprang forward and wrenched the weapon from Lucas's hands. The villain's finger had been on the trigger; the bullet exploded harmlessly into the air.

I did not pause to speculate on Abdullah's change of heart; I drew straight at Lucas. I shudder to think what damage I might have inflicted if Emerson had not anticipated me. Rising, he seized the wretch by the throat and shook him till he hung limp.

"Calm yourself," he gasped, fending me off with his elbow. "We can't murder the rascal until he has told us what we want to know." Then, turning to his erstwhile foreman, he said, "You will have to decide whose side you are on, Abdullah; vacillation is bad for the character. I am willing to forget your recent indescretions in return for cooperation."

"But I did not know," Abdullah muttered, holding the rifle as if it were burning his fingers. "He say, he want only his woman; she is his. What is a woman, to make such trouble for us?"

"A true Moslem philosophy," said Emerson drily. "As you see, Abdullah, he lied. He was ready to kill- and you, I think, would have been among the victims. He could not leave witnesses against him. Now…"

He was still holding Lucas, whose face had turned an unbecoming shade of lavender. He gave him an extra shake for good measure.

"Now, your lordship, speak up. Where have they gone? I beg, don't tell me you don't know; for the expectation of that information is the only thing that keeps me from throttling you here and now."

His tone was almost genial; his lips were curved in a slight smile. But Lucas was not deceived.

"Very well," he muttered. "The royal tomb. I told him to take her there- "

"If you are lying…" Emerson squeezed.

Lucas gurgled horribly. When he had gotten his breath back, he gasped,

"No, no, it is the truth! And now you will let me go? I can do you no more harm -- "

"You insult my intelligence," Emerson said, and flung him down on the ground. With one foot planted in the middle of Lucas's back, he turned to me. "You must sacrifice another petticoat, Peabody. Only be quick; we have lost too much time already."

We left Lucas bound hand and foot where he had fallen- not with my petticoat, for of course I was not wearing one. Using Abdullah's knife, which he politely offered me, I ripped up the full skirts of my dressing gown, slit them fore and aft, and bound them to my nether limbs. It was wonderful what a feeling of freedom this brought! I swore I would have trousers made as soon as possible.

Abdullah remained to guard Lucas. Emerson seemed to have regained all his former confidence in his foreman; he explained that Abdullah had not been fighting him, but had been trying to separate the two Englishmen. I suppose the Egyptian's attitude was understandable, considering his sex and his nationality.

If it had not been for the gnawing anxiety that drove us, I would have found the moonlight hike a thrilling experience. With what ease did I glide across the sand in my makeshift trousers! How lovely the contrast of shadow and silver light among the tumbled rocks of the wadi! There was food for meditation, too, in the events of the evening; our brilliant triumph just when disaster seemed imminent was a subject for modest congratulation. Hope began to raise a cautious head. Surely, if the mummified villain had carried Evelyn so far, her immediate demise was not meditated. We might yet be in time to save her.

The pace Emerson set left me no breath for conversation; and I do not mink I would have spoken if it had. Let my reader not suppose that I had forgotten the effrontery- the bold action- in short, the kiss. I could not decide whether to bury the subject forever in icy silence, or to annihilate Emerson- at a more appropriate time, naturally- with a well-chosen, scathing comment. I occupied myself, when I was not picturing Evelyn in a variety of unpleasant positions, by composing scathing comments.

With such thoughts to distract me, the journey was accomplished in less time than I had expected, but it was a tiring, uncomfortable walk- or run- and I was breathless by the time we reached that part of the narrow canyon in which the royal tomb was located.

Emerson spoke then for the first time. It was only a curt order for silence and caution. We crept up to the entrance on all fours. The precaution was not necessary. Expecting Lucas's triumph, the foolish Mummy had not kept guard at the entrance. When I peered into the opening I saw a tiny pinprick of light, far down in the black depths.

Now that we were almost at our goal, feverish impatience replaced the exhilaration that had carried me to the spot. I was on fire to rush in. I feared, not only for Evelyn, but for Walter, either he had lost himself in the desert, or he had met some disastrous fate, for if he had succeeded in wresting Evelyn from her necromantic admirer we would have met him returning. Emerson's anxiety was as great as mine, but he held me back with an arm of iron when I would have rushed impetuously into the tomb. He did not speak; he merely shook his head and pantomimed a slow, exaggeratedly careful stride. So, like stage conspirators, we edged around the fallen rocks still remaining from the avalanche, and set off down the long, steep corridor.

It was impossible to move in utter silence, the path was too encumbered underfoot. Fortunately mere were other dungs in the tomb that made noise. I say 'fortunately,' but I am a liar; I would rather have taken the chance of being overheard than walk through a curtain of bats. The tomb was full of them, and night had roused them to then- nocturnal life.

The light grew stronger as we advanced, and before long I could hear a voice rambling on in a soliloquy or monologue, which was a great help in covering the small sounds we inadvertently made. The voice was a man's, and the tones were oddly familiar; but it was not Walter's voice. As we advanced I began to distinguish words; the words, and the smug, self-satisfied tones filled me with amazement. Who could it be who was chatting so unconcernedly in a tomb in the Egyptian desert?

Emerson was in the lead; he stopped me, at the entrance to the side chamber from which the light proceeded. We crouched there, listening; and gradually realization dawned. What a fool I had been. The plot now seemed so obvious I felt a child ought to have detected it.

"… and so you see, my heart, that cousin Luigi and I are a pair of clever fellows, eh? You say 'luck,' that I won your heart; but no, it was no luck, it was my charm, my handsome face- and that the fool old grandfather not let you see men, any men. When we run away, then Luigi comes to the old grandfather. If grandfather not be good fellow and make Luigi rich, then Luigi make new will himself! Luigi can write like anyone; he writes many fine checks at the university before they catch him and tell him, go home. Luigi is smart fellow, almost as smart as me. When the old grandfather make new will, hide it in box and send away, then Luigi come to me with new plan. I search your room in Cairo, dressed up like old Egyptian fellow; but the box is not there. We must make another plan. Was I not fine mummy? I am fine actor; I make you all much afraid. And it is I who tell Luigi of this young fool- I was Arab in museum that day, when you meet Master Walter; you look at him as you look once at me, and I know…"

An indignant exclamation from Evelyn interrupted this long-drawn-out piece of braggadocio. The relief of hearing her voice, weak as it was, almost made me collapse.

"If he had not been wounded, and drugged as well, you would never have overcome him," she cried. "What have you done to him? He lies so still… Please let me see how he is injured. Unless- oh, heaven!- he is not- he cannot be- "

Emerson's shoulder, pressed against mine, jerked convulsively, but he did not move.

"No, no," Evelyn's tormentor replied, in a horrid parody of sympathy. "The brave young hero is not dead. But why you sorry? Soon you both be dead. You die together, like Aida and Radames in the beautiful opera of Signer Verdi. I thank my genius compatriot for this idea- so romantic. Together, in the tomb, in the arms of each other." His voice changed; he sounded like a sulky boy as he added, "Luigi say, kill you. Me, to kill? Always the bad job for me; Luigi too much gentleman to make hands dirty. So, I leave you here. I am gentleman too; I do not kill woman. At least I not do it often. Not woman who once I held in my- "

This was too much for Emerson, who was quivering like a boiler about to blow up. With a roar, he erupted into the lighted chamber. I need not say that I was close on his heels.

The first thing I saw was Evelyn's pallid face, streaked with dust and tears, her eyes fairly bulging out of her head as she saw me. The first sound I heard was her cry of "Amelia!" as she collapsed in a swoon of relief and joy.

The poor child was huddled on the littered floor, her hands bound behind her, her pretty hair all tangled and dusty. I lifted her up, and watched complacently as Emerson finished choking Alberto. Yes; the Mummy, the confederate of Lucas-Luigi, the abductor of Evelyn, was none other than her erstwhile lover, whose relationship to her scheming cousin had been made plain by his own boasts. I think that of the two he was the worst; I didn't feel the slightest inclination to interfere as his face turned purple and his flailing hands dropped limply.

Emerson dropped him with a thud and turned to his brother. Walter was lying in the opposite corner, bound hand and foot; he was unconscious, and a darkening bruise on his brow showed how the villain had struck him down. Evelyn came back to consciousness in time to hear Emerson proclaim, in ringing tones, "He is alive! He is not seriously injured!" Whereupon she fainted again, and I had quite a time bringing her around.

The journey back was long and arduous, but it did not seem so to us; our hearts were overflowing with happiness increased by the knowledge that we had left Alberto bound and gagged in the tomb where he had intended to entomb Evelyn and Walter. The last thing I remember seeing as we left was the mummy costume lying limp and harmless on the floor. It seemed absurd when I looked at it closely that it could have frightened anyone. The head mask was made in a separate piece, the joint being covered by strips of bandaging. And the suit itself buttoned neatly up the front.

Two years have passed since the events of which I have written- two years full of thrilling events,both personal and historic. Emerson's fears for the gallant Gordon were, alas, justified; he was horribly murdered in January, before the expeditionary force arrived. But the cause for which he died was not lost; the mad Mahdi himself died the same year, and our forces are beating back the insurgents. Myfriend Maspero has left the Antiquities Department, which is now under the charge of M. Grebaut, whom Emerson detests even more than he did Maspero. As for Emerson himself…

I sit, writing this, on the ledge above the familiar and beloved plain of Amarna; and when I lift my eyes from the page I see the busy groups of workmen scattered about like black ants on the pale sand, as they bring the ruins of Khuenaten's city back to the light of day. My self-appointed Critic has left me in order to supervise the clearing of what appears to have been a sculptor's workshop; several splendid busts have already been found. Emerson pushes himself unnecessarily, for Abdullah is an excellent foreman, reliable and skilled. As Emerson says, there is nothing like a spot of blackmail to make a man perform to the best of his ability. Abdullah never refers to the events of that winter two years ago.

They are surprisingly clear and present to my mind, as if they had happened only yesterday. I never had such a good time in all my life. Oh, certainly, at the time there were moments of extreme discomfort; but the adventure, the danger, the exhilaration of doubt and peril are in retrospect something I rather regret having lost.

We had to interrupt the excavations for a few weeks. To Emerson's deep disgust, it was necessary to carry our captives to Cairo and explain to the authorities there what had happened. I had suggested leaving Alberto in the tomb; it seemed a fitting punishment. But I was dissuaded by Evelyn's horrified protests.

So, at sunrise, we returned to the dahabeeyah, and Emerson made a fine speech to the assembled crew, who squatted on the deck staring at him with round black eyes while he explained that the Mummy had been a hoax, the curse imaginary, and that an ordinary human being had been behind the whole thing. He produced his downcast, shivering captive at the appropriate moment, and I think the sight of an Englishman, one of the Master Race, in bonds and held up to scorn as a common criminal did as much as anything to win their wholehearted allegiance. Lucas's crew gave us no difficulty; their loyalty had been won with money, and as soon as the source of funds dried up, their devotion withered. An expedition set out immediately for the camp and brought back a very thirsty Alberto, together with our luggage and equipment. I myself supervised the removal of poor Michael, on a litter. We set sail at once for Cairo.

It was an enjoyable trip. With the great sail furled and lowered onto blocks on the deck, we let the current bear us downstream. There were occasional misadventures- grounding on sandbars, an encounter with another dahabeeyah that lost the latter its bowsprit and won us the collective curses of the exuberant American passengers; but these are only the normal accidents of Nile travel. In every other way matters could not have been more satisfactory. Michael began to make a good recovery, which relieved my worst fears. The crew outdid itself to please us. The cook produced magnificent meals, we were waited upon like princes, and Reis Hassan obeyed my slightest command. The full moon shone down upon us, the river rolled sweetly by… And Emerson said not a word.

I had waited for him to make some reference, if not an apology, for his outrageous behavior in- for his daring to- for, in short, the kiss. Not only did he remain silent, but he avoided me with a consistency that was little short of marvelous. In such close quarters we ought to have been much together, but whenever I entered the saloon it seemed that Emerson was just leaving, and when I strolled on the deck, admiring the silvery ripples of moonlight on the water, Emerson vanished below. Walter was of no use. He spent all his time with Evelyn. They did not talk, they just sat holding hands and staring stupidly into one another's eyes. Walter was a sensible chap. Evelyn's fortune would not keep him from happiness. Was it possible that Emerson…?

After two days I decided I could wait no longer. I hope I number patience among my virtues, but shilly-shallying, when nothing is to be gained by delay, is not a virtue. So I cornered Emerson on deck one night, literally backing him into a corner. He stood pressed up against the rail that enclosed the upper deck as I advanced upon him, and from the look on his face you would have thought I were a crocodile intent on devouring him, boots, bones, and all.

We had dined formally; I was wearing my crimson gown and I had taken some pains with my hair. I thought, when I looked at myself in the mirror that evening, that I did look well; perhaps Evelyn's flattery had not all been false. As I approached Emerson I was pleasantly aware of the rustle of my full skirts and the movement of the ruffles at my throat.

"No," I said, as Emerson made a sideways movement, like a crab."Don't try to run away, Emerson, it won't do you a particle of good, for I mean to have my say if I have to shout it after you as we run about the boat. Sit or stand, don't mind me. I shall stand. I think better on my feet."

Emerson squared his shoulders.

"I shall stand. I feel safer on my feet. Proceed, then, Peabody; I know better than to interfere with you when you are in this mood."

"I mean to make you a business proposition," I said. "It is simply this. I have some means; I am not rich, like Evelyn, but I have more than I need, and no dependents. I had meant to leave my money to the British Museum. Now it seems to me that I may as well employ it for an equally useful purpose while I live, and enjoy myself in the bargain, thus killing two birds with one stone. Miss Amelia B. Edwards has formed a society for the exploration of Egyptian antiquities; I shall do the same. I wish to hire you as my archaeological expert. There is only one condition -- "

I had to stop for breath. This was more difficult than I had anticipated.

"Yes?" said Emerson in a strange voice. "What condition?"

I drew a deep breath.

"I insist upon being allowed to participate in the excavations. After all, why should men have all the fun?"

"Fun?" Emerson repeated. "To be burned by the sun, rubbed raw by sand, live on rations no self-respecting beggar would eat; to be bitten by snakes and mashed by falling rocks? Your definition of pleasure, Peabody, is extremely peculiar."

"Peculiar or not, it is my idea of pleasure. Why, why else do you lead this life if you don't enjoy it? Don't talk of duty to me; you men always have some high-sounding excuse for indulging yourselves. You go gallivanting over the earth, climbing mountains, looking for the sources of the Nile; and expect women to sit dully at home embroidering. I embroider very badly. I think I would excavate rather well. If you like, I will list my qualifications – "

"No," said Emerson, in a strangled voice. "I am only too well aware of your qualifications."

And he caught me in an embrace that bruised my ribs.

"Stop it," I said, pushing at him. "That was not at all what I had in mind. Stop it, Emerson, you are confusing me. I don't want – "

"Don't you?" said Emerson, taking my chin in his hand and turning my face toward his.

"Yes!" I cried, and flung my arms around his neck.

A good while later, Emerson remarked,

"You realize, Peabody, that I accept your offer of marriage because it is the only practical way of getting at your money? You couldn't join me in an excavation unless we were married; every European in Egypt, from Baring to Maspero, would be outraged, and Mme. Maspero would force her husband to cancel my concession."

"I fully understand that," I said. "Now if you will stop squeezing me quite so hard -- I cannot breathe."

"Breathing is unnecessary," said Emerson.

After another interval, it was my turn to comment.

"And you," I said, "understand that I accept your proposal of marriage because it is the only way in which I can gain my ends. It is so unfair – another example of how women are discriminated against. What a pity I was not born a hundred years from now! Then I would not have to marry a loud, arrogant, rude man in order to be allowed to excavate."

Emerson squeezed my ribs again and I had to stop for lack of breath.

"I have found the perfect way of silencing you," he said.

But then the laughter fled from his face and his eyes took on an expression that made me feel very odd- as if my interior organs had dissolved into a shapeless, sticky mass.

" Peabody, you may as well hear the truth. I am mad about you! Since the day you walked into my tomb and started ordering us all about, I have known you were the only woman for me. Why do you suppose I have sulked and avoided you since we left Amarna? I was contemplating a life without you- a bleak, gray existence, without your voice scolding me and your big bright eyes scowling at me, and your magnificent figure- has no one told you about your figure, Peabody?- striding up and down prying into all sorts of places where you had no business to be -- I knew I couldn't endure it! If you hadn't spoken tonight, I should have borrowed Alberto's mummy costume and carried you off into the desert! There, I have said it. You have stripped away my defenses. Are you satisfied with your victory?"

I did not reply in words, but I think my answer was satisfactory. When Emerson had regained his breath he let out a great hearty laugh.

"Archaeology is a fascinating pursuit, but, after all, one cannot work day and night -- Peabody, my darling Peabody – what a perfectly splendid time we are going to have!"

Emerson was right – as he usually is. We have had a splendid time. We mean to work at Gizeh next year. There is a good deal to be done here yet, but for certain practical reasons we prefer to be nearer Cairo. I understand that Petrie wants to work here, and he is one of the few excavators to whom Emerson would consider yielding. Not that the two of them get along; when we met Mr. Petrie in London last year, he and Emerson started out mutually abusing the Antiquities Department and ended up abusing one another over pottery fragments. Petrie is a nice-looking young fellow, but he really has no idea of what to do with pottery.

The practical reasons that demand we work near Cairo are the same reasons that keep me here, in my chair, instead of being down below supervising the workers as I usually do. Emerson is being overly cautious; I feel perfectly well.

They say that for a woman of my age to have her first child is not always easy, and Emerson is in a perfect jitter of apprehension about the whole thing, but I have no qualms whatever. I do not intend that anything shall go amiss. I planned it carefully, not wanting to interrupt the winter excavation season. I can fit the child in quite nicely between seasons, and be back in Cairo ready for work in November.

We are now awaiting news from Evelyn of the birth of her second child, which is due at any moment. She is already the mother of a fair-baked male child, quite a charming infant, with a propensity for rooting in mud puddles which I am sure he inherited from his archaeological relatives. I am his godmother, so perhaps I am biased about his beauty, intelligence, and charm. But I think I am not.

Walter is not with us this season; he is studying hieroglyphics in England, and promises to be one of the finest scholars of our time. His library at Ellesmere Castle is filled with books and manuscripts, and when we join the younger Emersons there for the summer and early fall each year, he and Emerson spend hours arguing over translations.

Lucas? His present whereabouts are unknown to us. Without the money to support his title he could not live respectably in England. I wanted to prosecute the rascal as he deserved; but Baring dissuaded me. He was very helpful to us when we reached Cairo with our boatload of criminals; and he was present on the momentous occasion when Evelyn opened her boxes and found, among the diaries and books, an envelope containing her grandfather's last, holograph will. This was the final proof of Lucas's villainy; but, as Baring pointed out, a trial would bring unwished for notoriety on all of us, particularly Evelyn, and Lucas was no longer a danger. He lives precariously, I believe, somewhere on the Continent, and if he does not soon drink himself to death, some outraged husband or father will certainly shoot him.

I see Alberto whenever we pass through Cairo. I make a point of doing so. As I warned him once, Egyptian prisons are particularly uncomfortable, and the life does not seem to agree with him at all.

Michael has just rung the bell for lunch, and I see Emerson coming toward me. I have a bone to pick with him; I do not believe he is correct in his identification of one of the sculptured busts as the head of the heretic pharaoh. It seems to me to be a representation of young Tutankhamen, Khuenaten's son-in-law.

I must add one more thing. Often I find myself remembering that blustery day in Rome, when I went to the rescue of a young English girl who had fainted in the Forum. Little did I realize how strangely our destinies would be intertwined; that that act of simple charity would reward me beyond my wildest dreams, winning for me a friend and sister, a life of busy, fascinating work, and…

Evelyn was right. With the right person, under the right circumstances – it is perfectly splendid!