Part 15 (2/2)

”I had heard of it,” I said. ”I cannot believe any young lady would do such a thing.”

A gust of wind blew Mrs. Axhammer's veil askew, just as she bared a set of large white teeth whose very perfection betrayed their falsity. ”There's no doubt in my mind,” she snapped. ”Women are dangerous, ma'am, much more dangerous than the male. I see you've got one out here with you. Don't approve of women taking work away from men. Ought to stay home and tend to the house.”

Realizing I would get no more out of the malicious old creature except ignorant maledictions about her own s.e.x, I determined to finish my duties and get rid of her. She paid no attention to my lecture, which, if I may say so, was of admirable quality, and resisted my efforts to lead her away from the excavations.

”There's a white man down there with all them natives,” she exclaimed indignantly. ”Is that your husband? Ain't he got no sense of dignity? Hi, there, you-” And she made as if to jab Emerson, whose back was turned, with her parasol.

Like lightning I brought my own parasol into play, striking up the shaft of Mrs. Axhammer's with a skill worthy of a master swordsman. The ring of steel on steel made Emerson jump, but he did not turn round.

The old lady burst out laughing and feinted playfully at me with her parasol. ”Useful instruments, ain't they? Never travel without one. Hey, there-” at me with her parasol. ”Useful instruments, ain't they? Never travel without one. Hey, there-”

She spun round; and as her flailing draperies settled, I saw to my consternation that they had concealed a small kneeling form.

”Ramses!” I exclaimed. ”What are you doing?”

”Looking up my skirts,” the old lady howled. ”Let me at him, ma'am, let me at the little rascal. You've been too soft on him, ma'am; he needs a good thras.h.i.+ng, and Mrs. Axhammer of Des Moines, Iowa, is the one to give it to him.”

While I engaged the agitated old person in a spirited exchange of thrusts and parries, Ramses skipped hastily away. ”I was merely examining your feet, madam,” he said indignantly. ”They are very large, you know.”

This remark may have been intended to soften Mrs. Axhammer's anger, but as might have been predicted, it had precisely the opposite effect. She set off after Ramses, and, seeing he was having no difficulty in keeping a safe distance from her, I followed at a more leisurely pace. At least Ramses' dreadful lapse of manners had succeeded in drawing Mrs. Axhammer away from Emerson, and I fondly hoped that once away, she would not return.

Such proved to be the case. Shaking with indignation, Mrs. Axhammer mounted her donkey and the caravan trotted off.

When we returned to the house that afternoon, Emerson expressed himself as satisfied with the morning's work. ”I think I have it clear in my mind now, Peabody. There are traces of at least three occupation levels, the latest addition having probably been made in Ptolemaic times. The plan is complex, however, and I would appreciate your a.s.sistance, if you are finished messing about with your pyramid.” your a.s.sistance, if you are finished messing about with your pyramid.”

Overlooking the derogatory tone, I a.s.sured him that I was at his disposal. ”There is nothing inside, Emerson. I doubt that it was ever used for a burial.”

”That is what I said, Mama,” remarked Ramses.

After luncheon, Enid retired to her room with her book of detective stories. She had not spoken a word to Donald, and his gloomy look testified to his depressed spirits. I was about to suggest we have a little talk when Emerson said, ”What would you think about a ride to Mazghunah this afternoon, Peabody? The communion vessels ought to be returned to the church.”

”An excellent idea, Emerson,” I replied, wondering what was behind this suggestion.

”Shall we take Ramses?”

”I would rather not,” I said truthfully.

”And I,” said Ramses, ”would prefer to take a little mild exercise, in the form of a stroll around the village and its environs.”

”Mild exercise indeed,” I exclaimed. ”You have had a great deal of exercise already, being chased by infuriated old ladies. Stay here and work on your grammar.”

”Never mind, Peabody,” Emerson said with a smile. ”We cannot keep an active lad like Ramses shut up in the house all the time. There is no harm in his taking a stroll so long as Mr. Fraser accompanies him.”

Neither Ramses nor Donald appeared to care for that idea. ”Such an arrangement would leave the young lady unprotected,” Ramses protested. Donald nodded vigorous agreement.

”She has stout walls and strong men to protect her,” Emerson replied. ”It is broad daylight, and we won't be long. Mazghunah is only ten kilometers from here, and our business will be easily concluded.” and our business will be easily concluded.”

So it was arranged. Taking two of the donkeys, Emerson and I rode southward. We saw no one, for at that time of day tourists and natives alike retire into the shade. I hardly need say that Emerson and I are never deterred from the path of duty by climatic conditions, and I, for one, enjoyed the ride.

The path, scarcely discernible to any but a trained eye, led across the rocky waste of the plateau, past the tumbled remains of the three brick pyramids of Dahshoor. They had been built a thousand years after their great stone neighbors, but the shorter pa.s.sage of time had not dealt kindly with them. Once faced with stone, in imitation of the older and larger tombs, they had crumbled into shapeless ma.s.ses of brick as soon as the facing stones were removed.

Dominating the other ruins was the great bulk of the Black Pyramid, the tomb of Amenemhat of the Twelfth Dynasty. Because of its location on the highest part of the plateau, it appears from some vantage points to be even taller than its stone neighbors to the north, and its ominous reputation is justified by its appearance. I knew the interior of that monstrous structure only too well, for it was in its sunken and flooded burial chamber that Emerson and I had been flung by the villain who a.s.sumed we would never emerge alive. Only the most heroic exploits on both our parts (with a little a.s.sistance from Ramses) had enabled us to escape from perils which would have destroyed lesser beings.

Although I would have liked to explore the Black Pyramid again, and visit the ruined monastery we had occupied the year before, we had no time for nostalgia that day. We went directly to the village.

By comparison to Mazghunah, Menyat Dahshoor is a veritable metropolis. The former village is primarily inhabited by Copts (Egyptian Christians), but except for the characteristic indigo turbans, the inhabitants are indistinguishable in appearance from other Egyptians, and the wretched little houses are like those of any Moslem village. Ancient Coptic, the last remnant of the tongue of the pharaohs, is no longer spoken except in a few remote hamlets to the south, but it survives in the ritual of the Coptic Church. inhabited by Copts (Egyptian Christians), but except for the characteristic indigo turbans, the inhabitants are indistinguishable in appearance from other Egyptians, and the wretched little houses are like those of any Moslem village. Ancient Coptic, the last remnant of the tongue of the pharaohs, is no longer spoken except in a few remote hamlets to the south, but it survives in the ritual of the Coptic Church.

The village looked deserted. Even the dogs had sought shelter from the sun, and nothing moved except a few chickens pecking at bugs. Strangers are such a rarity in these primitive places, however, that our advent was soon acknowledged, and people began trickling out of their houses. We drew up near the well, which is the center of communal activity. Facing us was the church, with the house of the priest next to it.

The men gathered around Emerson, calling out greetings and inquiries. The women approached me, many carrying sickly babies. I had expected this and had come prepared; opening my medical kit, I began dispensing ipecacuanha and eyewash.

The Sheikh El Beled (mayor of the village) had of course noted our arrival as soon as the others, but dignity demanded that he delay awhile before presenting himself. Eventually, he made his appearance; when Emerson informed him that the lost communion vessels were about to be restored to him, tears filled the little man's eyes, and he dropped to his knees, kissing Emerson's feet and babbling thanks.

”Humph,” said Emerson, not looking at me. Honesty demanded that we decline to take credit for something we had not achieved; but on the other hand, there was no need to explain a situation that was inexplicable even to us.

As the news spread through the crowd, a scene of utter pandemonium broke out. People wept, shouted, sang, and embraced one another. They also embraced Emerson, a favor he endured without enthusiasm. ”Ridiculous,” he grunted at me over the head of a very fat lady, whose veiled face was pressed against his chest. She was, I believe, raining kisses on that region, while holding him in a grip he could not escape. utter pandemonium broke out. People wept, shouted, sang, and embraced one another. They also embraced Emerson, a favor he endured without enthusiasm. ”Ridiculous,” he grunted at me over the head of a very fat lady, whose veiled face was pressed against his chest. She was, I believe, raining kisses on that region, while holding him in a grip he could not escape.

”You see, Peabody,” he went on, ”the degrading effect of superst.i.tion. These people are carrying on as if we had conferred health and immortality upon them instead of fetching back a few tarnished pots. I will never understand-er-awk-” He broke off, sputtering, as the lady raised herself on tiptoe and planted a fervent kiss upon his chin.

Eventually we quieted the crowd and, escorted by the mayor, proceeded to the church. On the step, hands raised in thanksgiving, was the priest, and very odd it seemed to behold his stout figure and genial face in the place of the great (in all but the moral sense) Father Girgis. Everybody trooped into the church, including the donkeys, and when the precious vessels had been restored to the altar, such a shout broke out that the very rafters shook-which was not surprising, since they were extremely old and brittle. Tears of joy streaming down his face, the priest announced there would be a service of thanks the following day. He then invited us and the mayor to join him in his house.

So again we entered the edifice where once we had been welcomed by the Master Criminal himself. So pervasive were the presence and the memory of that great and evil man that I half-expected to see him in the shadows, stroking his enormous black beard and smiling his enigmatic smile. It is a strange and disquieting fact that evil can sometimes appear more impressive than virtue. Certainly the Master Criminal had made a more imposing man of G.o.d than his successor. Father Todorus was a foot shorter and several feet wider round the middle; his beard was scanty, and streaked with gray.

He was a pleasant host, however. We settled ourselves on the divan with its faded chintz cus.h.i.+ons, and the priest offered us refreshment, which of course we accepted, for to refuse would have been rude in the extreme. I was expecting the thick, sweet coffee which is the common drink; imagine my surprise when the priest returned from an inner room with a tray on which rested a gla.s.s bottle and several clay cups. After Emerson had taken a cautious sip of the liquid his eyebrows soared.

I followed suit. ”It is French cognac,” I exclaimed.

”The best French cognac,” Emerson said. ”Father, where did you get this?”

The priest had already emptied his cup. He poured another generous measure and replied innocently, ”It was here in my house when I returned.”

”We have been anxious to hear of your adventure, Father,” Emerson said. ”How well I recall the anger of my distinguished chief wife, the Sitt Hakim here, upon learning that the priest of Dronkeh was not who he pretended to be. 'What have you done with the real priest, you son of a camel?' she cried. 'If you have injured that good, that excellent man, I will cut out your heart!' ”

Emerson's version was not a very accurate rendering of what I had said, but I had indeed inquired about the missing priest, and well I remembered the M.C.'s cynical reply: ”He is enjoying the worldly pleasures he has eschewed, and the only danger is to his soul.”

After thanking me for my concern, Father Todorus launched into his story. It was clear that he had only been waiting for us to ask, and that constant repet.i.tion had shaped his account into a well-rehea.r.s.ed narrative of the sort to which Egyptians can listen over and over again. Unfortunately, there was less information than stylistic elegance in the long, rambling tale; stripped of unnecessary verbiage, it could have been told in a few sentences. again. Unfortunately, there was less information than stylistic elegance in the long, rambling tale; stripped of unnecessary verbiage, it could have been told in a few sentences.

Father Todorus had gone to bed one night as usual, and had awakened in a strange place, with no notion of how he had arrived there. The room was elegantly, indeed luxuriously furnished (the description of its silken curtains and soft couch, its tinkling fountain and marble floors occupied the bulk of the speech). But he saw no one save the attendants who brought him rich food and rare liquors at frequent intervals, and since the windows were barred and shuttered, he could see nothing that would give him the slightest clue as to his whereabouts.

His return was accomplished in the same eerie fas.h.i.+on; he awoke one morning in the same narrow cot from which he had been spirited away, and at first he could hardly believe the entire episode had not been a long and vivid dream. The astonished cries of his paris.h.i.+oners upon his reappearance, and the accounts they gave him of what had transpired during his absence, proved that his experience had been real. But the innocent man frankly admitted he was inclined to attribute the whole thing to evil spirits, who were known to torture holy men by tempting them with the goods of this world.

”So you were tempted, were you?” Emerson asked. ”With rich food and fine wines and liquors-”

”They are not forbidden by our faith,” Father Todorus hastened to remark.

”No, but other temptations are forbidden, at least to the clergy. Were the attendants who waited upon your reverence men or women?”

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