Lion in the Valley by Elizabeth Peters Page B

I would enjoy sleeping in the spot you describe, Emerson, I don't think it
would be wise. Not after the reminder we have just received of the awesome
malice and powers of the Master Criminal. We have scarcely been in Egypt three
days, and already he has challenged us twice. We are in deep waters, Emerson,
very deep indeed. Was the attempt on Ramses meant to succeed, or was it only a
demonstration of what the man can do if he chooses? One result of that
adventure, if you recall, was the advent of Mr. Nemo in our midst."
    Midway
in this speech Emerson had pulled the blanket over his head and was pretending
to snore. I knew I still had his attention, however, for the part of his body
that adjoined my own was as rigid as a board.
    "Was
that perhaps the Master Criminal's intent?" I went on thoughtfully.
"To insert a confederate into our confidence? And the return of the
communion vessels is another enigma. Why should he give up his loot? I tell
you, Emerson, the subtle machinations of that great criminal brain—"
    Emerson
sat up with a roar whose reverberations echoed through the quiet night. As if
in answer came the queer, coughing cry of a jackal prowling the desert waste.
    "Hush,
Emerson," I implored. "You will waken the entire village—not to
mention Ramses. What the devil is the matter with you? I was speaking of the
Master Criminal—"
    "I
heard you." Emerson lowered his voice. The blanket had fallen away, baring
his body to the waist and exposing more of my own than was strictly
proper. Mesmerized by the ripple of muscle on Emerson's broad chest as he
struggled for breath, I did not replace it. Emerson went on in a hissing
whisper, "Great mind, did you say? How can you ramble on about that—that—
that creature at a time like this? And in such terms— terms almost of respect!
Devil take it, Amelia, one might suppose you think I am incapable of dealing
with that scoundrel! Curse it! If you believe I am not man enough—"
    "My
dear Emerson—"
    "Be
quiet, Peabody. If you have any doubts as to my fortitude, I will prove you
wrong."
    And
he did so, with such determination and zeal that when, at a later time, he
requested my assessment of the situation, I was able to reply with utter
sincerity that his arguments had been entirely convincing.
    I
woke at dawn, as is my habit in Egypt, whatever distractions the night may
bring. Our lofty perch presented me with an unexampled view of the glorious
sunrise and I lay in sleepy content for a time, watching the soft shades of
gold and rose strengthen in the eastern sky. Emerson's regular expiration
ruffled the hair on my brow. After a time a sense of vague uneasiness
penetrated the pleasant laziness of my mind, and I raised my head. Fortunately
I raised no other part of my body, for the first thing I saw was the face of
Ramses, apparently detached from the rest of him, solemnly regarding me. It was
an uncanny apparition and I was somewhat startled until it occurred to me that
everything except his head was out of sight on the stairs leading to the roof.
    "What
are you doing there?" I whispered.
    "I
came to see if you and Papa were awake. Since I see that you are, I
have brought you a cup of tea. I tried to bring two cups, but unfortunately
dropped one, the stairs being extremely steep and my—"
    I
put my finger to my lips and pointed at Emerson, who was twitching restlessly.
    Ramses'
neck and narrow shoulders rose up out of the stairwell, and I saw that he was
indeed holding a cup. Whether or not it contained tea was yet to be seen. I
rather doubted that it did. I started to sit up and then remembered that in the
extreme fatigue following the ultimate conclusion of my discussion with
Emerson, I had neglected something.
    I
dismissed Ramses and groped for my clothes. Assuming those garments under cover
of the blanket without rousing Emerson was no easy task. By the time I was
finished I quite agreed with my husband that we might