Part 44 (1/2)
It might have been the sunset glow that softened the young journalist's features, but his voice was equally subdued as he said, ”That must be the unkindest cut of all, ma'am. How he could forget a woman like yourself- ”
”I do not want your sympathy, Kevin. I want- I insist upon- your cooperation.”
”You have it, Mrs. . . . Miss Peabody. I suppose you have no objection to my chatting with the others- Abdullah, for instance? After all,” he added winsomely, ”if I am supposed to be a detective I ought to question people.”
The point was well taken. Now that it was too late, I wished I had thought of a different persona for Kevin- that of an illiterate deaf-mute, for instance. ”Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive!” Taking my baffled silence for consent, Kevin wandered off, hands in his pockets, a cheerful whistle issuing from his lips, and I considered this latest tangle and whither it might lead.
Kevin already knew the one fact I had been most anxious to keep from him. He seemed still to be in ignorance of other equally important facts, and these I was determined to keep from him at all costs. Kevin would fall on the story of the Lost Oasis like a dog on a ripe, smelly bone, for it was just the sort of fantastic tale in which he specialized. The slightest hint would be enough to set him off, he would not bother to substantiate it, for fiction was as good as truth by the standards of his profession. Rapidly I ran through the list of persons present to rea.s.sure myself there was no danger of exposure from any of them
Emerson knew only what I had told him of the matter and he was not inclined to believe that. In any case, Kevin was the last person with whom he would have discussed the subject. Cyrus's discretion I did not doubt. Rene and Charles were unwitting, as was Abdullah. Bertha maintained her ”master” had told her nothing. If she lied . . . well, then she had every reason to remain reticent on the subject. An admission of knowledge she claimed not to have would prove her false, and would betray the secret her master was no more anxious than we to have spread abroad.
My reasoning was irrefutable. Relieved of that anxiety (and would the others were so easily disposed of!) I went to have a look at my latest patient.
One of Cyrus's men stood on guard outside the shelter that had been set up for Mohammed. There was no need, the wretch was so full of laudanum he would not have roused if someone had set fire to his bed. I hated to waste my medical supplies on such a vile specimen, but he had been in acute pain and even if mercy had not tempered my wrath I could not have set his broken nose while he was writhing and screaming. His jaw, I thought, was only bruised, but since I could not be absolutely certain I had wound it round with bandages too.
He was a dreadful sight as he lay there on the pile of rugs. Not even Christian charity and the ethics of the profession of which I count myself a formally unqualified but able pract.i.tioner could have forced me to touch the ragged, flea-infested robe or bathe the filthy body. The cast I had applied to his nose jutted out like the grotesque beak of some mythical monster, coa.r.s.e black hairs bristled at odd angles from above and below the bandages covering most of the lower half of his face. A slit of white glistened under each eyelid. His mouth gaped open, displaying brown, rotting teeth. The light from my lantern cast shadows that intensified every ugly feature and made the open cavern of his mouth look like a black hole.
I took his pulse and listened to his breathing. There was nothing more I could do, only time, and a good deal of luck, would complete the cure. I prayed most sincerely for his recovery, but I am sorry to say that Christian charity had very little to do with that prayer.
When I emerged, dusk was far advanced, but the light of the lantern I carried showed a retreating form. The flutter of draperies betrayed her ident.i.ty, none of the men walked as she did. I had not heard her address the guard, so she must have turned away as soon as she realized I was within.
I hurried after her. ”Bertha! Wait, I wish to speak with you. What were you doing there?”
Her posture was submissive- hands clasped, head bowed. In a low voice she said, ”I would help you nurse the man, Sitt. There is not much I can do to show my grat.i.tude, but I am skilled at women's work.”
It was as if she had deliberately cast off her European heritage. Voice, manner, speech were more and more Egyptian with every pa.s.sing day. Naturally I found this extremely irritating.
”There is no work a woman cannot do,” I said. ”We must have a little chat about that one day, Bertha. Just now you can help me best by continuing to search your memory. Anything you recall may be of importance, even if it seems meaningless to you.”
”I am trying, Sitt,” she murmured.
”And don't call me Sitt! Miss Peabody will do, if you cannot twist your tongue around my given name. Come away now. The injured man is in no need of services you can provide.”
A little gasp of what sounded like amus.e.m.e.nt issued from her lips. It must have been a stifled cough, I concluded, for nothing I had said could have provoked laughter
By the time we a.s.sembled for the evening meal, Kevin had already ingratiated himself with Rene and Charlie. I did not know how he had managed it with Rene, but he had won Charlie's heart by professing a pa.s.sion for motor cars.
”They are the wave of the future,” Kevin exclaimed enthusiastically. ”Daimler's internal-combustion engine- ”
”But have you seen the Panhard?” Charlie interrupted. ”The sliding-gear transmission-”
They went on talking unintelligibly about things like clutches and gears, while Bertha hovered at Rene's shoulder and Emerson glowered impartially on all of us and I ... I looked at Emerson. It seemed to make him rather nervous, but I saw no reason why that should deter me.
He had hardly spoken to me since that thrilling encounter in the tomb, except when the loss of his temper over the advent of Kevin overcame his reticence. At first I had been a trifle discouraged by his apology and ensuing silence, I am something of a romantic myself, and I had hoped that that pa.s.sionate embrace would burst the bonds that held his memory in thrall. Schadenfreude had said it would not in fact, he had warned me, most vehemently, against applying any such procedure. Apparently the doctor had been correct.
However, as I thought back over the incident, I felt it offered some encouragement. It might be interpreted as marking a step forward in the relations.h.i.+p I was, according to the doctor's instructions, endeavoring to re-create. Annoyance had replaced Emerson's initial indifference, he was now sufficiently interested to follow after me and risk himself to save me. That he would have done the same for Abdullah or any of the other men I was prepared to admit, but no combination of relief and anger would have prompted him to behave to Abdullah as he had behaved to me.
However. The kiss might have meant less than I hoped. As I had good cause to know, Emerson is a hot-blooded individual. The mere proximity of a female who, if not irresistibly beautiful, has been regarded by some as worthy of admiration, might have been sufficient to inspire such a response in a man who was under considerable emotional stress.
Dare I admit the truth? I see no reason why I should not, since these journals will not be read by other eyes until I can find a publisher worthy of them (a more difficult procedure than I had believed) and then not until after considerable revision. I hoped and prayed Emerson's memory might be restored, but what I really wanted restored was his love for me, whether it came by recollection or by being forged anew. That marriage of true minds, based on mutual trust and respect (and on another kind of attraction whose importance I would be the last to deny) was all in all to me. By one means or another I meant to regain it, and I did not really care how it was achieved. It might be a little difficult to explain to a man who has just proposed marriage for, as he believes, the first time, that he already has an eleven-year-old son. It would be an even greater shock to receive the full impact of Ramses all at once, instead of getting used to him a little at a time. However, I could and would deal with greater difficulties than that, if only . . . So my emotions swung back and forth like the pendulum of a clock, now rising, now falling. So absorbed was I in my thoughts, and in contemplation of Emerson's splendid, scowling physiognomy, that I was unaware of Cyrus's approach until a gentle cough made me look up.