Part 41 (1/2)

”He was good to her,” Sethos said. ”She was fond of him. Not until sometime after his death, when she had returned to Matilda, did she begin to suspect foul play.”

”What I don't understand,” Cyrus said, ”is how they intended to get the artifacts unloaded. They couldn't have gone on to Cairo with them.”

All eyes-even those of Emerson-turned to none other than Walter. A modest but pleased smile illumined his scholarly countenance. ”I have been thinking about that, Cyrus,” he said. ”I believe-and this can easily be confirmed-that they planned to tie up somewhere between Qena and Hammadi-they might have had to wait at Hammadi for the bridge to be raised, which would have placed them under close scrutiny-and unload under cover of darkness. The heavier objects could be temporarily concealed in an empty tomb or cave, to be retrieved later, when the-I believe the expression is, 'when the heat was off.' A few of them would have taken the steamer on downstream next day and abandoned or destroyed her.”

”I am sure you have the right of it, Walter,” I said. ”But if you will forgive me, we are getting off the track here.”

”My fault,” said Cyrus, grinning. ”Sorry, Amelia. Go on.”

The story of our visit to el-Gharbi was new to some of them, and if I may say so, I told it well. (I saw Daoud, lips moving and eyes abstracted, and knew he was memorizing everything I said, to be repeated, with embellishments.) ”It came as a complete shock to me,” I admitted handsomely. ”I went to el-Gharbi because I had deduced that Maryam's misadventures were, so to speak, the pieces that did not fit into the puzzle, but all I expected to learn was more about her past history. She overheard me talking to Ramses; she had got in the habit of walking in the garden at night. Her reasons do not concern us,” I added, with a little cough.

Nefret glanced at Ramses, who was studiously not looking at anyone, and moved closer to him. She looked weary but very beautiful, her face s.h.i.+ning with a new contentment. She had learned one important lesson: that the marriage of true hearts does not alter when it alteration finds, and that love is not time's fool-as Shakespeare so nicely puts it. I nodded affectionately at her and went on.

”Maryam realized when she heard me mention el-Gharbi's village that he would tell me about Justin-and that that information would put the entire party on the dahabeeyah under suspicion. I believe I may confidently a.s.sert that my explanation of the true facts surrounding her mother's death, as well as the kindly reception she received, had altered her feelings for us. At first light she went to Luxor and attempted to dissuade Justin and Matilda from carrying out their plans-at least the part of those plans that depended on the abduction of Nefret. She swore she would not betray them, but apparently her agitation was so great that they decided they could not trust her, so they locked her in her room and sent Khattab to the railroad station to see whether Ramses and I actually took the train. Exposure was imminent; however, they knew we could not return before evening, so they had only to move up the time of their departure by a few hours. When Maryam was forced to attend that incredible dinner party at which Nefret was also an unwilling guest, she put on a show of submission and acquiescence.”

”She certainly deceived me,” Nefret admitted.

”It was necessary that she deceive them, so that she might remain at liberty. Upon hearing of Emerson's capture and Matilda's vindictive intentions, she realized that she was the only one who could save him. With great courage and at considerable risk to herself, she stole the keys last night, crept into his room, and freed him from his shackles. She tried to persuade him to escape that same night, but he refused. Like the confounded fool he is,” I added.

”I had some hope of preventing the attack on the steamer,” said Emerson, smoking placidly.

”Single-handedly?” I inquired with raised brows.

”I rather expected Matilda to pay me another call,” Emerson explained. ”She so enjoyed the first. Then, you see, I would have taken her hostage and forced the others to surrender to me.”

”An excellent plan,” said Sethos, with excessive politeness.

”Well, curse it, I didn't expect them to shove Francois in with me. When I heard them at the door I rearranged my shackles so that I appeared to be still confined and put on a show of weakness. I hoped to get more specific information from him, about the timing and method, but all the bas-er-fellow did was sit glowering at me and fingering his knife. I had about decided there was no point in waiting any longer when I heard gunfire. I had just finished dealing with Francois when Maryam came back to let me out. She is a brave little girl, and risked a great deal for us.”

”More than you know,” Sethos said. He rose stiffly to his feet. ”Look after her, will you, Amelia? I must catch the night train to Cairo.”

”Out of the question,” I exclaimed. ”You should not be using that leg, and anyhow, your first duty is to your daughter. Tell Mr. Smith to go to blazes.”

”I am perfectly fit,” said Sethos, sounding alarmingly like Emerson. ”And this duty takes precedence over all others. You are on the wrong track, Amelia. Evelyn had the right idea after all.”

”She was under duress,” Evelyn exclaimed. ”I knew it. What hold did they have over her?”

”The most powerful hold you can possibly imagine.” He smiled at me with something of his old mockery, but there was a light in his eyes. ”Some might declare there are enough small children in this adventure already . . .”

”Can never have enough of them,” declared Emerson sentimentally. Then his jaw dropped. ”What do you mean? Oh, good Gad! Do you mean-”

”I have just been informed that I am a grandfather,” said Sethos. ”The child is a boy. He is a year old, and Matilda has had him in her hands since shortly after he was born.”

”Good heavens,” I cried, leaping to my feet. ”In the hands of that vicious, unprincipled . . . We must go at once! Er-where?”

”I know where,” Sethos said. ”I had a little chat with Matilda just now. Sit down, Amelia, and have another whiskey. You won't be needed. I must catch that train, though. I promised I would bring him back to her as soon as is humanly possible.”

”Of course,” I murmured. ”How she must have suffered!”

Emerson knocked out his pipe. ”I'm going with you. You aren't fit to travel.”

Neither was he. Ramses looked from him to Nefret, whose hand rested in his. ”No, sir, I'll go.”

”What about me?” Bertie asked.

”You have done enough,” I said affectionately.

”No, ma'am, not really. The rest of you chaps . . .” His kind brown eyes moved from Ramses to David to Emerson to Walter. ”The rest of you want to be with your wives. I-er-I'd like to go. If-er-Sethos will have me. Just to-er-lean on now and then, you know.”

They had formed a bond, I believe, during those last desperate minutes, when Bertie, firing as coolly and accurately as Sethos, had eliminated four of the armed men who stood at the rail before they realized what was happening. While he and Sethos fought their way onto the deck I paused only long enough to tie the rope to our little boat before joining them. The struggle did not last long. As I always say, hired thugs are not reliable.