Part 63 (2/2)

”Yes, it would appear so,” she said coldly. ”But we know very little--we have only had the official news of the discovery. His letters will tell us more. Does the news surprise you?”

Millicent looked at Margaret keenly. Their eyes met as bitter antagonists. Millicent supposed that Margaret thought that Michael would have written to her and told her the news; she answered accordingly.

”His breathless letters--you know how he writes--are probably resting in some desert village. They'll come along all right. But I'm awfully glad the dear man hasn't found a mare's nest, aren't you?” She spoke again quickly, before Margaret had time to answer. ”What does your brother say about it? Isn't he surprised? He thought it was all tommy-rot, didn't he? How different they are!”

”It is always difficult to tell what Freddy thinks,” Margaret said.

”He is a very reserved person. If the whole thing turns out as Michael expected, he will be delighted and interested.”

”If there is anything there at all,” Millicent said, ”that ought to be sufficient proof of the seer's powers--I mean, things of Akhnaton's period. The portable treasure might have been stolen--it probably was.

If the saint had discovered it, why not others?”

”I have had no particulars,” Meg said coldly. She felt certain that Millicent was pumping her for her own pleasure.

”Your brother never mentioned the King Solomon's mine of gold and the jewels,” Millicent said laughingly; ”yet even my men were talking about it quite openly on my homeward journey. Mike and I were so careful--we never mentioned a word about it. To all outward appearances we were merely journeying in the desert for pleasure; our objective was to be the tomb where Akhnaton's body was buried. They must have learned all about it from the holy man--tents have ears. You have heard all about our meeting with the 'child of G.o.d,' of course?” She searched Margaret's eyes as she spoke and then added lightly: ”I should like to have seen Mike in his strange counting-house, counting out his money, shouldn't you?”

Margaret very nearly said, ”You little liar, get out of my sight!” The sudden temptation to shake her was almost past enduring; it was all she could do to keep her hands off her and remain silent. She had heard from the woman's own lips what she had told Freddy she never would hear; her promise to him flashed through her mind. Her doom was sealed. The psychological and archaeological interest of what Millicent had told her did not penetrate her brain; even her reference to their meeting with a ”child of G.o.d” fell on deaf ears. Millicent had asked her if she had shared Michael's beliefs in the occult and mystic interpretation of the discovery, in tones which implied that she did not expect Margaret to understand or sympathize with that side of Michael Amory's character.

Margaret managed to keep her wits about her. The agony which she was enduring must at all costs be hidden from her enemy.

With a calm that surprised her own ears, she said. ”Did you enjoy your time in the desert? Why did you return before the eventful discovery?

If you had waited, you would have seen Mr. Amory wading in the historic jewels.”

Millicent was very quick. She had arranged in her own mind how much and how little she was going to tell Margaret. It was to be enough to ruin her happiness and trust in her lover, enough to rob Michael of the woman who had robbed her of him; but not enough to let her know why she, Millicent, had flown from the camp.

”Oh, we both loved it!” she said. ”We had some unique and strange experiences, things we shall never forget. But I had to come back, my time was up. I am leaving for England on the twenty-eighth--I have so much to pack and collect.”

”It is getting very warm,” Margaret said. ”The tourists are all going back.”

”Oh, I never mind the heat--I like it--but unfortunately I have to go home--money matters. I've been rather lucky, in a manner--a rich relation in Australia died a few months ago and I have just heard that he has left me a nice little bit.”

Millicent's words instantly confirmed Margaret's suspicions. The unscrupulous woman had secured at least a part of the buried gold.

Margaret wondered if it would be wise to attack her on the subject.

She refrained; instinct cautioned her. With Margaret it was always a case of--When in doubt, hold your tongue.

”What a fortunate coincidence!” she said coldly. ”How very odd!”

Millicent looked at her sharply. What did her words mean? What was she driving at? Margaret never spoke unthinkingly.

”I don't understand what coincidence you refer to, but certainly I've been lucky as regards legacies and money. I've always been fortunate about money, but there is a saying that money goes where money is, and that if you get one legacy you will get three. I really could have done without the last windfall. I have enough of this world's goods for a lone woman--if I had some babies it would be different.”

There was a note of sadness in Millicent's words which would have appealed to Margaret if she had not known what a perfect actress the woman was. How was she to believe anything she said after what she had done?

”You needn't let it be a burden to you.” Margaret pretended to laugh.

”There are other people's babies who have none. There are plenty of ways of disposing of super-wealth. Why not pay for the costs of some of the Egyptian exploration work next autumn? It would interest you and . . .” Margaret paused. ”. . . it would be a suitable way of spending the gold. It would repay Mr. Amory.”

In saying these words, Margaret felt that she was going as near to the point as she dared. As she said them, Millicent's eyes hardened. She had spoken with sincerity when she said that she could have done without her uncle's fortune, for there were moments when she deceived herself into believing that if her grand pa.s.sion for Michael had been returned, that if she had ever been loved as greatly as she felt that she herself could love, or if she had had any children, she would have been a good and n.o.ble woman. No chance of goodness had ever come her way, and she had never stepped aside to look for it.

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