Crocodile On The Sandbank Read online

  "My first name!" Lucas exclaimed, with a broad smile. "You have broken down at last, Miss Amelia; you have done me the honor of addressing me as a friend. We must drink to that." And he refilled his wine glass.

  "We- to use the word loosely- have drunk too much already," I retorted. "As for Michael- "

  "Good heavens, such a fuss over a servant," Lucas said contemptuously. "I think I know what he wants to speak to you about, Miss Amelia, and if I were you I should not be in a hurry to hear it."

  He held up his glass as if admiring the sparkle of the liquid in the fading light.

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  Lucas shrugged.

  "Why, the fellow means to be off. My men tell me that he is in a complete funk. It is to his babbling, in no small measure, that I attribute their cowardice. No doubt he will have some specious excuse for leaving you, but leave you he will."

  "I cannot believe it," Evelyn said firmly. "Michael is a fine man. Loyal, devoted- "

  "But a native," Lucas finished. "With a native's weaknesses."

  "And you are quite familiar with the weaknesses of the- er- natives," Emerson put in. He had not spoken much; for once his grating purr, like the throaty emanation of a very large, angry cat, did not offend my ears.

  "Human beings are much the same the world over," Lucas replied negligently. "The ignorant always have their superstitions and their fondness for money."

  "I bow to your superior knowledge," Emerson said. "I had been under the impression that it was not only the ignorant who are corrupted by money."

  "I cannot believe Michael will desert us," I said, putting an end to the bickering. "I will speak to him later."

  But later I was forced to admit, little as I liked it, that Lucas had been right. Michael was nowhere to be found. At first, when he did not seek me out, I assumed he had changed his mind about wanting to speak to me. It was not until we began thinking of our plans for the night that we realized he was missing. A search produced no trace of him. Lucas's servants- a shabby-looking group if I had ever seen one- had long since departed, so we could not ask if they had seen him.

  "He had not even the courage to make his excuses to you," Lucas said, "Depend upon it, he has crept away."

  Michael's defection left us in rather serious condition, I thought, but when I expressed the idea, Lucas pooh-poohed my concern.

  "We ought to get to our posts," he continued. "With all due respect to your measures, I do not believe you went about the business very sensibly." "Let us hear your plans," said Emerson humbly. I could not imagine what ailed the man. Except for brief outbursts of irony he adopted an attitude of subservient meekness toward Lucas, a man considerably his junior in age and certainly his inferior in experience. Nor could I believe that it was physical weakness that curbed his tongue. Emerson would criticize Old Nick himself when that individual came to bear him away as he lay dying.

  "Very well," said Lucas, expanding visibly. "I see no reason to watch the village. If your villain means to frighten you away he will come here, and it is here that we must concentrate our forces. But we must not show force. You frightened him away the other night- "

  "Oh, do you think that is what happened?" Emerson asked seriously.

  "Only look at the sequence. The first time he came he ventured as far as the entrance to the ladies' residence and stood there for some time, if Miss Amelia's evidence is to be believed- "

  "It is," I said, snapping my teeth together.

  "Certainty I did not mean… Very well, then; on the next night, when Evelyn saw him, we do not know how far he progressed. He may have come no farther than the spot, down below, where she saw him. But on the third occasion he was definitely wary; he never came onto the ledge at all, and it was as if he knew you were awake and waiting for him."

  Even in the dark I could sense Walter's increasing anger. The tone Lucas adopted was really quite insufferable. I was not surprised when the lad interrupted Lucas's lecture in a voice that shook with his efforts at self-control.

  "You mean to imply, Lord Ellesmere, that the miscreant saw Abdullah and myself. I assure you- "

  "No, no, my dear fellow," Lucas exclaimed. "I mean to imply that your friend Mohammed was warned in advance!"

  There was a muffled exclamation from Emerson. It sounded to me as if he were strangling on an oath he did not dare speak aloud. Lucas took it for an expression of chagrin, and he nodded graciously at the older man.

  "Yes; Michael. I am convinced that he has been in league with the villagers. No doubt they promised him part of the loot."

  "Loot!" Evelyn exclaimed, with unusual heat. "What reward could they offer, when they are so poor they cannot clothe their own children?"

  "I see you have not reasoned it out," Lucas said complacently. "Perhaps I can see more clearly because I am removed from the terror that has haunted you in recent days."

  "Enlighten us," said Emerson, through his teeth. I saw them gleaming in the dark, like the fangs of a wolf.

  Lucas leaned back in his chair. He stretched out his long legs and gazed admiringly at his boots. "I asked myself," he began, "what motive these people could have for driving you away. Malice is not a sufficient explanation; they need the money you were paying them. Does not the answer seem obvious to you? For generations these fellainn have been robbing the tombs of their remote ancestors. Their discoveries fill the antika shops of Cairo and Luxor, and you archaeologists are always complaining that whenever you find a tomb, the natives have been there before you. I suggest that the villagers have recently discovered such a tomb- a rich one, or they would not be so anxious to drive you away before you can find it."

  The explanation had occurred to me, of course. I had discarded it, however, and now I voiced the objections aloud.

  "That would mean that all the villagers are in league with Mohammed. I do not believe that. If you had seen the trembling fear of the old mayor- "

  "You ladies always trust people," Lucas said. "These villagers are congenital liars, Miss Amelia, and expert at dissimulation."

  "If I really believed such a tomb existed, it would require an earthquake to make me leave," said Emerson.

  "Naturally," Lucas said cheerfully. "I feel the same. All the more reason for catching our Mummy before he can do any serious damage."

  "If your explanation is correct, my lord, catching the Mummy will not solve the problem." It was Walter who spoke. "According to you, the entire village knows that the Mummy is a fraud. Exposing him will not change their intention of forcing us to leave."

  "But it will give us a hostage," Lucas explained tolerantly. "The mayor's own son. We will force him to lead us to the tomb and then dispatch a message back to Cairo for reinforcements. Also, once we have exposed the supposed curse we may be able to enlist the crews of our boats to help guard the tomb. They consider the villagers savages; the only thing they have in common is their superstitious terror of the dead."

  "Another objection," I said. "If Michael is a traitor- though I still find it hard to believe- he will have warned the village of our plans for tonight. The Mummy again will be on his guard."

  "What a splendidly logical mind you have," Lucas exclaimed. "That is quite true; and it prompts my next suggestion. We must appear to be off our guard, and we must offer the Mummy a lure, in order to entice it into our clutches."

  "What sort of lure?" Walter asked suspiciously.

  "I had not thought," Lucas said negligently. "I have appeared to drink more than I really have, in order to give the impression that I will sleep heavily. I wish you two gentlemen had done the same, but evidently you failed to follow my reasoning. Have you any suggestions, along the lines I have indicated?"

  Several suggestions were made. Walter offered to take up his post at some distance, and then pretend to fall asleep. Emerson proposed to stand out in the open and consume an entire bottle of wine, and then collapse upon the sand as if overcome by intoxication. This last idea was received with the silent contempt it deser
ved, and no oae spoke for a time. Then Evelyn stirred,

  "I mink there is only one object that may attract the creature to venture close enough to be seized," she said. "I shall steal out for a stroll after midnight. If I am far enough from the camp- "

  The remainder of her sentence was drowned out by our cries of protest. Lucas alone remained silent; when Walter's voice had died, he said thoughtfully.

  "But why not? There can be no danger; the villain only wants to catch one of us alone in order to play some silly trick."

  "Do you call this a silly trick?" Emerson asked, indicating his bandaged shoulder. "You are mad, my lord, to consider such a thing. Walter," he added sternly, "be quiet. Do not speak if you cannot speak calmly."

  "How can anyone speak calmly of such a thing?" Walter bellowed, in a fair imitation of his brother's best roar.

  "Under any circumstances it is an appalling idea; but remembering what that swine Mohammed said, when we were in the village…"

  He broke off, with a glance at Evelyn. "Lucas does not know that, Walter," she said steadily. "But I do. I overheard Amelia and Mr. Emerson speaking of it. Surely that makes my plan more practical."

  Walter sputtered speechlessly. Lucas of course demanded to know what we were talking about. Seeing that Evelyn already knew the worst, I saw no reason not to repeat the statement to Lucas, and I did so, adding, "After all, Evelyn, you are being vain in assuming that the Mummy is only interested in you. Mohammed looked at me when he spoke; and I mink if you are going to take a stroll, I will make myself available also. We will give him his choice of prey. Who knows, he may prefer a more mature type of lady."

  This time the outcry was dominated by Emerson's bull-like voice.

  "Why, Emerson," I said. "Do you mean to suggest that the Mummy will not be intrigued by me? You must not insult me."

  "You are a fool, Peabody," said Emerson furiously. "And if you suppose I am going to allow any such idiotic, imbecilic, stupid- "

  The plot was arranged as I had suggested. As we discussed it, it became more complex. By 'we,' I refer to Evelyn, Lucas, and myself. Emerson's contribution took the form of a low rumble rather like the sound of a volcano about to erupt. Walter's tense silence was almost as threatening. He took Evelyn's behavior as evidence of an understanding between her and Lucas, and reacted accordingly; it was not at all difficult to feign a quarrel, which was part of our plan, in case any spy should be watching. We parted acrimoniously. Walter tried to make a last protest, and Lucas responded by producing a pistol.

  "I shall be within ten feet of Evelyn the entire time," he said in a thrilling whisper, holding the gun so that no one outside our group could see it. "I think our bandaged friend will be deterred by the mere sight of this. If not, I have no scruples about using it."

  "And what about me?" I asked.

  Emerson was unable to ignore the opportunity.

  "God help the poor mummy who encounters you, Peabody," he said bitterly. "We ought to supply it with a pistol, to even the odds."

  So saying, he stalked away. He was followed by Walter. Lucas chuckled and rubbed his hands together.

  "What an adventure! I can hardly wait!"

  "Nor I," said Evelyn. "Amelia, will you not reconsider?"

  "Certainly not," I said in a loud voice, and walked off with my head held stiffly. I did not like leaving them alone together, but I felt it wise to add to the impression of ill will. It would be helpful later, when Evelyn and I staged our quarrel.

  It was a one-sided argument, for Evelyn could not even pretend to shout at me. I made up the deficiency, and ended the argument by storming out of our tomb with my pillow and counterpane under my arm. I carried them down the ledge and into the little tent Michael had been occupying. Any watcher might readily assume that Evelyn and I had had a falling out, and that I had refused to share our sleeping quarters.

  I could not strike a light, since it would have been visible through the canvas walls of the tent. It was not an honest English tent, only a low shelter of canvas; I could not stand erect in it. Squatting on the sand which was the floor of the shelter, I thought seriously of the man who had been its occupant. I was not at all convinced that Michael had left of his own free will. Men are frail creatures, of course; one does not expect them to exhibit the steadfastness of women. All the same, I did not like having my judgment of Michael disproved, and I determined to search the tent in the hope of finding some clue. There was just enough light from without to show me that Michael's scanty possessions had been removed; but as I wriggled around, my fingers touched an object buried in the sand. I dug it out. I did not need to see the moonlight sparkling off its metallic surface to comprehend what it was. A crucifix. Part of the chain was still there, but only part. It had been snapped, not unfastened in the usual way.

  My fingers closed tightly over the small object. Michael would never have left it; it was the only thing of value he owned, as well as an amulet against evil. The breaking of the chain confirmed my dread. It must have been snapped during a struggle.

  Heedless of possible watchers, I crawled around the confined space searching for further clues, but found nothing. I was relieved; I had feared to find bloodstains.

  So absorbed was I in the conjectures and suspicions which followed my discovery that time passed swiftly. A sound from without brought me back to myself. Stretching out flat, I lifted one edge of the canvas and peered out.

  There was nothing to be seen- literally nothing. I had miscalculated, and I cursed my stupidity. The tent was behind a low ridge of tumbled stones that extended out from the cliff; I could not see the ledge, or the tomb entrances. This would never do. I must be in a position to assist Evelyn if the Mummy pursued her; and, in spite of my boasts, I did not really think it was after me. Squirming out from under the tent, I began to crawl forward. Before long I had reached the end of the rocky ridge and, rising to my knees, peered cautiously around it.

  I pride myself on my self-possession; but I confess I almost let out a cry when I saw what stood beyond the ridge, only a few feet away. I had never seen it so close before. We claim to be rational, but there is a layer of primitive savagery in all of us. My brain sturdily denied superstition, but some deeply hidden weakness inside whimpered and cowered at the sight of the thing.

  It was a grisly sight in the cold moonlight. In that clear, dry air the moon gives a queer, deceptive light; small details are visible in it, but shadows distort and deceive the eyes; the pallid glow robs objects of their real color and gives them a sickly grayish-green shade. The Mummy stood out as if faintly luminescent. The bandaged hands resembled a leper's stumps. The hands were raised as if in invocation; the creature stood not twenty feet away, with its back toward me. It faced the ledge, and the blind head was tilted back as if the eyeless sockets could see.

  If Evelyn carried out our plan, she would shortly emerge from the tomb and start along the ledge. I expected her; I knew that mere were four strong, alert men bidden nearby. But when the slight white form appeared in the dark mouth of the tomb, I started as violently as if I had seen an actual spirit.

  Evelyn stood for a moment staring up at the stars. I knew she was trying to gather her courage to leave the security of the ledge, and my heart went out to her. She could not see the Mummy. At the moment she emerged it had moved with horrid swiftness, sinking down behind a rock at the cliff's foot.

  I have written that there were four defenders close at hand; but I was not absolutely certain of that fact. Despite Emerson's sneers, I am not a stupid woman. I had already considered an idea that must have occurred to my more intelligent readers, and as Evelyn turned and slowly began to descend, my brain rapidly reviewed this reasoning.

  I had been impressed by Walter's insistence that Mohammed had not left the village on one occasion when we were visited by the Mummy. Moreover, much as I disliked agreeing with Emerson on any subject, I felt as he did, that the plot was un-Egyptian- if I may use that term. Not only was it too sophisticated for the crafty bu
t uneducated mind of Mohammed, but it smacked quite strongly of European romanticism. It might have been invented by a reader of gothic novels, inspired by An Egyptian Princess and other fictional horrors.

  If Mohammed was not the Mummy, who was? It is no wonder that a certain name came immediately to mind; for he had the shallow but fertile intelligence, the bizarre sense of humor that suited the plot.

  I was fully aware of the objections to my theory. The greatest was the question of motive. Why should Lucas, Lord Ellesmere, go to such absurd extremes in order to frighten his cousin? Or was it I he was trying to frighten? However, I was not worried about this; Lucas's motives were beyond my comprehension, and I thought it possible that he had some insane notion of terrifying Evelyn into leaving Egypt and accepting his protection. He would never succeed, but he might not have sense enough to know that. The other objections were more difficult. Lucas might possibly have caught us up in time to play his role; we had dawdled and stopped along the way. But he could not have anticipated our stay at Amarna. It had been purely fortuitous, not known to him in advance.

  Despite the objections, I clung to the notion of Lucas's villainy. The truth is, I wanted him to be a villain- a veritable crocodile, like the one in the ancient poem, that lay in wait for the lover seeking to win his sweetheart. A woman's instinct, I always feel, supercedes logic. So you may believe that I waited with considerable interest to see whether Lucas would appear to rescue Evelyn.

  My heart beat in sympathy with the girl as she advanced along the path that led away from safety. She put on a good act of indifference; only once, as she passed the quarters of Walter and his brother, did she falter and glance aside. But she squared her shoulders and went on. She reached the bottom of the ledge and started out across the sand.

  If she continued on the route she had chosen, she would pass too close to the Mummy for comfort. I wondered if I was the only one who knew the creature's precise location. I was not sure where the men lay concealed; perhaps they had not seen the thing. If so, it was incumbent on me to interfere before Evelyn went much farther. I did not know the creature's intentions. It would be shock enough if it merelyjumped out and began moaning and waving its arms. But suppose it tried to touch her? The horror of that, to a girl of Evelyn's sensitive temperament, would be dreadful. And yet if I moved too precipitately I might frighten the thing away before the men could seize it. I hesitated, in an agony of doubt.