Part 56 (2/2)
Michael laughed. ”Trust the native mind to find a way to circ.u.mvent all these fine restrictions!”
His thoughts had flown to Millicent. If she had, as Abdul believed, discovered the jewels and the gold, where were they now? It was very odd that, even with this d.a.m.ning evidence that she had antic.i.p.ated his find before his eyes--for she and she alone could have known of it--his finer senses refused to believe that she had cheated and tricked him.
He had no argument to put forward to justify his belief; it was one of those beliefs which are rooted in something finer and truer than circ.u.mstantial evidence. His only argument in her favour was that he had never found her mercenary, but, as Abdul had answered him, a woman will sell her soul for jewels.
He felt woefully sick and dejected, far too physically exhausted to run the risk of exposing himself to the scorn and laughter of the excavator, who was speaking to him in a manner which unconsciously betrayed to the hypersensitive Michael that he considered the traveller rather too odd to waste much valuable time over. Michael wondered, in a slow, broken sort of way, what the cold eyes would look like if he suddenly produced the uncut crimson amethyst from the purse in his waistbelt. He would probably have said that it was a clever part of the native fable; he would probably say that the ancient stone might have come from any royal tomb in Egypt, that it proved nothing.
As a lengthy silence had elapsed, Michael felt that it was inc.u.mbent on him to be getting on his way. He must pretend to the excavator that he was now well enough to resume his journey. As he rose, rather inertly, from his low seat, he said:
”You say the native who brought the information of the find said nothing at all about the jewels and the gold?”
”Not a word! We have heard all that since. As you know, news travels in the desert in the most amazing fas.h.i.+on, once the natives get ear of it.”
”Won't you try and follow up the track of the story--find out how it originated? Are you content to take it for granted that it is all moons.h.i.+ne?”
”We are doing something about it--but it's very difficult.” The stranger spoke guardedly. ”The only way is to set a thief to catch a thief. Gold can be melted, ancient stones can be cut, a hundred dealers will be eager to run any risk to get them.”
A flood of anger coloured Michael's face; it brought out beads of perspiration on his forehead. He could scarcely contain himself; his rage tore at his bowels. His long journey, all that he had gone through--was this the end of it? Could anything be more fiat, more stale, more unprofitable? What a sudden tumble from the blue to brown earth! Above all, how maddening to have to hold his tongue, because no man would believe the story he could tell them, to have meekly to submit to the conventional etiquette of the moment! He felt anything but conventional. His anger had driven all finer feelings from his mind. If he could only find the native who had desecrated the treasure-trove, he would hang and quarter him without mercy!
”I'm afraid I must be getting back to my work,” the excavator said.
”But you needn't hurry. Rest here for as long as you like, only don't think me inhospitable if I leave you. Time's too precious to waste one moment.”
”Thanks very much,” Michael said. ”But I'm quite fit. You've been awfully kind. It's time I was on my way.”
”Where are you going to?”
”Back to my camp.”
”Back to your camp? where did you leave it?”
Michael told him.
”Then did you come on here on purpose to visit this dig? Had you heard of it before you saw the _Omdeh_ in the underground village?”
”I'd rather not answer your question at present, if you don't mind.
All that I know about it, Lampton also knows. . . . Some day, I hope, if we meet again, I will tell you the whole thing. It's an odd story, even for Egypt.”
The man looked annoyed. ”You can't tell me anything more? Have you any information that could help us? We have our suspicions that things aren't straight. If the natives weren't wading knee-deep in jewels, there was probably, as you say, some truth in the report that there were valuable antiques.”
”I've nothing reliable to go upon,” Michael said. ”Nothing that a man in his normal senses would pay any attention to--that was Lampton's verdict.”
Again the stranger looked at Michael with calm, searching eyes.
”Yet you believe in what you heard? You believed enough to bring you across the desert to find it?”
”If you ask Lampton, he'll tell you that I'm not quite in my normal senses--that I frequently walk on my head.”
”Lampton's a sound man.”
”Well, that's his opinion.”
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