Amelia Peabody Omnibus 1-4 Read Online Free PDF Page A

about her grandfather was not to be believed without investigation. I therefore went to our consul in Rome and made inquiries.
    I was disappointed for several reasons to learn that on this account, if no other, Alberto had spoken the truth. The Earl of Ellesmere was personally known to our consul; and of course the health of a peer of such rank was a matter of general concern. The elderly earl was not yet dead, but word of his demise was expected at any moment. He had been in a deep coma for days.
    I proceeded to tell the consul about Evelyn. He had heard rumours of this affair; that was clear, from the way his face changed to its blank diplomatic mask. He had the temerity to remonstrate with me when I explained my intentions with regard to the girl. I cut him short, naturally. I had only two reasons for mentioning Evelyn at all. Firstly, to ascertain whether or not any of her kin had made enquiries about her. Secondly, to inform someone in authority of her future whereabouts in case such inquiries should be made in the future. The answer to the first question was negative. The diplomatic mask notwithstanding, I could see by the consul’s expression that he did not expect any such enquiries; he knew the old Earl too well. I therefore gave him my address in Cairo and departed, leaving him shaking his head and mumbling to himself.
    On the twenty-eighth of the month we boarded the ship at Brindisi and set sail for Alexandria.

II

    I WILL spare the Gentle Reader descriptions of the journey and of the picturesque dirt of Alexandria. Every European traveller who can write his name feels obliged to publish his memoirs; the reader may refer to ‘Miss Smith’s Egyptian Journals’ or ‘Mr Jones’s Winter in Egypt’ if he feels cheated of local colour, for all the descriptions are the same. The sea voyage was abominable, but I was happy to see that Evelyn was a good traveller. We made our way to Cairo without incident and settled down at Shepheard’s Hotel.
    Everyone stays at Shepheard’s. Among the travellers who meet daily in its magnificent dining room one may eventually, it is said, encounter all one’s acquaintances; and from the terrace before the hotel the indolent tourist may watch a panorama of eastern life pass before his eyes as he sips his lemonade. Stiff English travellers ride past, on donkeys so small that the riders’ feet trail in the dust; followed by Janissaries in their gorgeous gold-embroidered uniforms, armed to the teeth; by native women swathed to the eyebrows in dusty black, by stately Arabs in flowing blue-and-white robes, dervishes with matted hair and fantastic headdresses, sweetmeat vendors with trays of Turkish delight, water sellers with their goatskin containers bloated with liquid and looking horridly lifelike…. But I see I am succumbing to the temptation of the traveller, and will stop; the procession is unending and fascinating.
    There were not many English travellers in Cairo that winter. The fighting in the Sudan had apparently alarmed them. The mad Mahdi was still besieging the gallant Gordon at Khartoum. However, Sir Garnet Wolseley’s relief expedition had reached Wadi Halfa, and the gentlemen we met at Shepheard’s reassured us – or rather, reassured Evelyn – when she expressed doubts as to the wisdom of travelling south. The fighting was still hundreds of miles below Assuan, and by the time we arrived there the war would surely be over – the Mahdi taken and his barbaric army crushed, the gallant Gordon relieved.
    I was not so sanguine as the gentlemen. The mad carpenter of the Sudan had proved himself an extremely potent general, as our losses in that area proved. However, I said nothing to Evelyn, for I had no intention of changing my plans to suit the Mahdi or anyone else. I planned to spend the winter sailing up the Nile, and sail I would.
    Travel by water is the only comfortable method of seeing Egypt, and the narrow length of the country means that all the antiquities