Amelia Peabody Omnibus 1-4 (30 page)

It was such a beam of light that finally woke me. When the curtain at the mouth of the tomb was lifted, the rays of the setting sun struck straight into the shadowy gloom. I lay motionless, struggling against the bonds of sleep that still clung to me; my uneasy slumber had twisted the bedclothes about my limbs and loosened my hair from its net. Damp with perspiration, the thick coils weighted my heavy head.

Then I heard the voice. I did not recognize it at first; it was a harsh whisper, tremulous with fear and warning.

‘Don’t move! For your life, remain motionless!’

The tones woke me like a dash of cold water. I opened my drowsy eyes. The first object to meet my gaze was a coil of what appeared to be thick brown rope, resting on the foot of my couch. As I stared, the coil moved. A flat head lifted from the mass; two narrow orbs, sparkling with life, fixed themselves on mine.

The whisper came again.

‘Be still. Not a breath, not a movement….’

I did not need that injunction. I could not have moved, even if waking intelligence had not warned me that the slightest movement might rouse the serpent to strike. The small obsidian eyes held me. I had read that snakes paralyse their intended prey thus; and I knew how the trembling rabbit must feel when its murderer glides toward it.

With a desperate effort I wrenched my eyes from the hypnotic glare of the snake. I rolled them toward the door. I dared move no farther.

Emerson’s face was streaked with rivulets of perspiration. He did not look at me. His eyes were fixed on the flat reptilian head, which was now weaving slowly back and forth. His hand, half lifted, shook with strain. It moved slowly, inch by inch. It touched his pocket and, with the same agonizing deliberation, reached inside.

Before and after that time I have made efforts that were not easy to make, but never have I done anything more difficult than remaining motionless. Lively terror had replaced my paralysis; every nerve in my body shook with the desire for action. I wanted to scream aloud, to fling myself from the deadly couch. Every ounce of my will was occupied in fighting this instinct. The strain was too much. A fog descended over my staring eyes. I knew that in another moment I must move.

When it finally came, the act was too quick for my failing eyes to see it. Emerson’s arm flashed in a blur of motion. Simultaneously, or so it seemed, the heavens fell. Blinding light, a crash of sound that rolled like thunder…. Merciful oblivion overcame me.

I was not unconscious for long. When I awoke I could not remember, at first, what had happened. My head rested against a hard, warm surface that vibrated erratically. My ears still rang with the echoes of that final thunderclap. I decided, drowsily, that the rapid beating sound was that of my own blood rushing through my veins with the rapidity of terror; for a normal heartbeat was never so fast. I felt surprisingly comfortable – limp and boneless as a baby in its mother’s arms. Then something began to touch my face – lips, closed eyes, cheeks – with a light pressure like the brush of fingers, only warmer and softer. That odd, fleeting touch had the strangest effect on me. I had been about to open my eyes. Instead, I closed them tighter. I decided I must be dreaming. Similar sensations had occurred, occasionally, in dreams; why should I dismiss such pleasurable experiences for a reality which would not be so enjoyable? I remembered everything now. The snake must have struck its fangs into me. I was poisoned – delirious – dreaming.

I genuinely resented the sounds that finally broke the spell. Voices crying out in alarm, running footsteps, streaks of light that irritated my closed eyes – yes, the dream was over. I felt myself being lowered to a flat surface, being shaken, and – crowning indignity – slapped smartly across the cheek. I opened my eyes, and then narrowed them in a frown as I recognized Emerson’s face hovering over me like a nightmarish mask. It was he who had slapped me, of course. Beyond, I saw Evelyn, her face as white as her dress. She pushed Emerson away, with a strength and rudeness quite foreign to her nature, and flung herself down on the cot beside me.

‘Amelia! Oh, my dear, dear Amelia – we heard the shot and came running – what has happened? Are you wounded? are you dying?’

‘Not wounded, not dying, merely enjoying a ladylike swoon,’ said Emerson’s familiar, detestable voice. ‘Allow me to congratulate you, Peabody; it is the first time I have seen you behave as a lady is supposed to do. I must make a note of it in my journal.’

I tried to think of something sufficiently cutting to say to reply, but was too unstrung to do so; I simply glared at him. He had stepped back and was standing beside the cot, his hands in his pockets. A low cry from Walter interrupted Evelyn’s agitated questions. He rose from the foot of the bed, holding the limp body of the serpent in his hand.

‘Good God,’ he exclaimed, his voice shaking. ‘It is a hooded cobra – one of the deadliest serpents in Egypt. Radcliffe – it was you who fired the shot? Are you certain it did not strike before you killed it?’

I thought for a moment Evelyn was going to faint. She roused herself and began to fumble around in the bedclothes, trying to examine my lower limbs. I pulled them away. I felt perfectly well now; Emerson’s rudeness had the effect of rousing me.

‘Don’t fuss, Evelyn,’ I said irritably. ‘The snake did not touch me, it is a slow-witted creature and took so long making up its mind whether to bite me that Emerson had ample time to shoot it. He took plenty of time, too, I must say; I could have dealt with ten snakes during the interval he required to take out his pistol.’

‘You know better, Miss Amelia,’ Walter exclaimed. ‘It was necessary to move with deliberation; a rapid movement might have startled the snake into striking. To think that it was just here, at the foot of your bed! It turns me quite cold to think of it. Thank God you had a weapon, Radcliffe.’

‘My weapon, I suppose,’ said Lucas from the doorway. He came slowly into the room. ‘What a fortunate chance that you were carrying it with you.’

‘There was one bullet left,’ Emerson said. His lips curled in a frightful grimace; abruptly he turned his back.

‘It was an extraordinary shot,’ Lucas said, his eyes on the other man’s rigid shoulders. ‘A lucky shot, I should say. You might have struck Miss Amelia.’

‘It had to be attempted, whatever the risk,’ Walter exclaimed. The implied criticism of his brother brought a flush of anger to his face.

‘Of course,’ cried Evelyn.

She was still pale with agitation, but she arose with her usual grace and, going to Emerson, paced her hand timidly on his arm.

‘God bless you, Mr Emerson. Your quick wits and keen eye saved Amelia’s life. How can I ever thank you?’

Emerson’s stiff, haughty pose relaxed. He turned and looked down at the girl. Some of the colour returned to her face under his steady regard. Then he smiled faintly.

‘I will let you know,’ he replied enigmatically.

‘In the meantime, perhaps Master Walter might consider getting rid of his souvenir,’ said Lucas. ‘It cannot be a pleasant sight for the ladies.’

Walter started. He was still holding the snake’s body at arms’ length. He crossed the room, brushing past Lucas, and went out the door.

‘And,’ Lucas continued, ‘let us all leave this room, which reeks of gunpowder and holds unpleasant associations. Come, Miss Amelia, let me offer you my arm.’

‘Thank you,’ I replied. ‘I need no assistance. Perhaps a cup of tea …’

Evelyn and I had tea. The gentlemen had something stronger. Lucas was the only one who seemed normal; he kept speculating as to how the serpent got into the tomb.

‘No doubt it crawled within during the night,’ he said.

‘I wonder why I didn’t see it earlier,’ I said. ‘I must have disturbed it when I flung myself down to sleep.’

‘Because it was not on the cot then,’ Lucas replied. ‘It was curled in a corner, and crept onto your bed later. It was fortunate that Emerson came in when he did; if you had awakened and moved about – ’

‘Enough of this,’ I interrupted. ‘The thing is over and done with. In the meantime, the sun is setting. We have yet to decide what we are going to do tonight.’

‘I have decided.’ It was Evelyn who spoke. We all turned to look at her as she rose slowly from her chair. Her face was as white and set as that of a marble statue; but unconquerable resolution shone in her eyes.

‘I accept Lord Ellesmere’s proposal of marriage,’ she went on. ‘He and I will leave here now – this moment. Tomorrow at dawn we will sail for Cairo.’

Utter silence followed. It was broken by Walter. He leaped to his feet with an unintelligible cry; dark, dusky colour stained his cheeks. Lucas also rose. His slow, deliberate movements and the smile that spread across his face had an insolent triumph that infuriated me.

‘I am, of course, the happiest man in the world,’ he said coolly. ‘Although I could have wished, my darling, that you had not chosen to accept me quite so publicly. However, if that is what you prefer…’

Before any of us suspected what he meant to do, he had caught Evelyn’s hands and pulled her roughly to him. I honestly believe the rascal would have embraced her, there before us all, if Walter had not intervened. With another wordless cry, he struck his rival’s hands away. For a moment the two young men stood facing one another in open enmity. Walter’s breast rose and fell with his agitated breathing; the sling supporting his wounded arm rose and fell with it.

Lucas’s eyes narrowed. I saw, as never before, the hot Latin blood of his sire.

‘So,’ he said softly. ‘You dare…. You will answer for this, Emerson, I promise you.’

Evelyn stepped between them.

‘Lucas – Walter – for shame! I have said what I must do. I
will
do it. Nothing can change my mind.’

‘Evelyn!’ Walter turned to her, ignoring the other man. ‘You cannot do this! You don’t love him – you are sacrificing yourself because of some absurd notion that you are the cause of our troubles – ’

‘She could not possibly be so stupid.’ Emerson’s calm voice broke in. He had not moved during the little scene; sitting at ease, his legs stretched out, he was smoking his pipe and watching like a spectator at a play.

‘Sit down, all of you,’ he went on, his voice taking on a sharp tone that forced obedience. ‘Now let us talk like reasonable human beings. If Miss Evelyn decides to become Lady Ellesmere, that is her right; but I cannot allow her to take that step under a misapprehension.’

He turned to Evelyn, who had dropped into a chair, where she sat with one trembling hand over her eyes.

‘Young woman, do you really believe that you are the jinx, the Jonah, who brings evil upon us? That is unbecoming a sensible woman.’

‘Amelia, today,’ said Evelyn in a faint voice. ‘It was the final warning. Danger to all those I love – ’

‘Nonsense!’ The word burst from Emerson’s lips. ‘Simple nonsense, my girl. Have you forgotten what we decided, at the beginning of this obscene charade? The only possible motive for it all is the desire of some unknown to force us away from this site. How will your departure accomplish this, if Walter and I remain? While you sail safely down the river toward Cairo, in the arms of your betrothed – ’

There was a wordless protest from Walter at this. Emerson gave him a sardonic look before proceeding, in a tone that seemed designed to provoke the young fellow even more.

‘As you sail along in soft dalliance under the moon, we may be beleaguered here. No; if your motive truly is to benefit us, your flight cannot accomplish that. If, on the other hand, you yearn to be alone with his lordship – ’

It was Lucas’s turn to protest.

‘Emerson, how dare you take that tone? You insult a lady –’

‘Quite the contrary,’ said Emerson, maddeningly cool. ‘I pay the lady the compliment of assuming that she has a brain and is capable of using it. Well, Evelyn?’

Evelyn sat motionless, her hand still shading her eyes.

I don’t know what had kept me silent so long. Emerson’s motive eluded me; that he had some ulterior purpose, however, I did not doubt. I decided it was time to add my opinion.

‘Emerson states the facts with his usual boorishness, yet he is basically correct. We are still in the dark as to the motive for this charade, as he rightly terms it. Precipitate action may be fatal. You may ignorantly do precisely what our unknown adversary wants you to do.’

Lucas turned to look at me, and I knew that if I had not been a woman he would have threatened me as he had Walter. I cared not at all for his opinion. Anxiously I watched Evelyn.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ she whispered. ‘I must be alone – let me think. Don’t follow me, please.’

Slowly, her face averted, she passed along the ledge and began to descend.

Lucas started to follow.

‘Your lordship!’ Emerson’s voice cracked like a whip.

‘Don’t interfere with me, Emerson,’ Lucas said tightly. ‘You are not my master.’

‘Interfere?’ Emerson’s eyes widened in honest indignation. ‘I never interfere. You are, of course, too much of a gentleman to lay hands on the young lady again; I need not caution you as to that. I was merely about to remind you not to wander out of sight.’

‘Very well,’ Lucas said shortly.

Evelyn had reached the bottom of the path and was walking slowly across the sand, away from camp. The poor child looked infinitely weary and sad as she proceeded with dragging steps and bowed head. The setting sun struck off her golden head like a flame.

Lucas’s pace was quicker, he soon caught her up and they walked on together. Naturally I could not hear what they said, but I felt sure he was pressing his suit. The weary shake of her head gave me some hope, but not enough.

I turned to Walter, who was sitting beside me. His eyes were fixed on the distant couple. He looked ten years older than his real age.

‘They make a pretty pair,’ said Emerson, who was outdoing himself in obnoxiousness that afternoon. ‘My lord and my lady, it will be an excellent match.’

‘Oh, do be still,’ I snapped.

‘Why, I thought ladies enjoyed matchmaking. You may be proud if you bring this off. He is rich, titled, handsome; she is poor. A brilliant match for a girl like that.’