Lord of the Silent: A Novel of Suspense Read Online Free PDF Page B

we took it in turn to teach her what we-and she!-felt she should learn. The curriculum was admittedly somewhat unorthodox. It included not only reading and writing and simple arithmetic, but hieroglyphic Egyptian and archaeology. Sennia had insisted on studying both. If Ramses had been a plumber, she would have demanded to learn about drains. We were deep in the adventures of little Polly and little Ben and their dog Spot when Basima bustled in. She had been late returning the breakfast tray to the kitchen, she explained, because Sennia had had to be persuaded to eat her porridge. "I do not care for porridge," said Sennia, in Ramses's very tones. "It is boring." I stifled a laugh. It would not have done to encourage her, but it was amusing to hear her imitate her hero's speech patterns and accent. She was bilingual, speaking Arabic and English with equal facility, and in her haughtier moods she brought back fond (and not so fond) memories of the little boy who had acquired his nickname of Ramses because, to quote his father, he was as swarthy as an Egyptian and as arrogant as a pharaoh. "Porridge is good for you," I said firmly. "I don't want to hear of you refusing your healthy breakfast again, or talking back to Basima." "I did not talk back. I would never be rude to Basima. I only pointed out-" "Enough," I exclaimed, as Basima nodded and beamed fatuously at her charge. She and the other servants, including Gargery, would have let Sennia skin them alive if she had indicated an interest in doing so. We finished the lesson without further interruption; but when it was over, Sennia had another complaint. "I find little Ben and little Polly very boring, Aunt Amelia. Can't we read a more interesting book?" "You find too many things boring," I said (though secretly I was just as bored with little Ben and little Polly, to say nothing of the dog). "Sometimes it is necessary to suffer boredom in order to be educated and learn manners." Sennia, who had heard this before and was not at all impressed with my argument, shifted ground. "It is time for my hieroglyph lesson. Where is Ramses?" "In hiding" was the correct answer, which I did not give. He wouldn't appear until the storm had passed. The sooner I got it over, the better. "Come here and sit by me," I said. "We must have a serious conversation." A quarter of an hour later I left the room, feeling like a villain and a murderer. Sennia lay flat on the rug next to the cat, her face , buried in her arms and her body shaking with sobs. Horus alternated between licking her hair and snarling at me. I was in no greater favor with Basima; she had not dared intervene, but the looks she shot me expressed her feelings quite well. Emerson was waiting for me at the top of the stairs. "How did it go?" "I am surprised you need ask. Everyone in the house must have heard her initial reaction." Emerson passed his sleeve across his wet forehead. The house was not especially warm; it was sheer nerves that made him perspire. "But it has been quiet for some minutes," he said anxiously. "You convinced her?" "I informed her of our decision," I corrected. "You cannot suppose I would allow a child to overrule me." In late October we sailed from Southampton. Horus shared the cabin of Basima and Sennia.
    The voyage was without incident of a military nature, but it provided one surprise. Gargery did not make his appearance until we were two days out of Southampton. He chose his moment well, waiting until after Emerson had had several cups of coffee and we were taking our morning promenade on deck. No doubt he hoped the presence of several dozen witnesses would force my husband to control himself. In this he was not correct. Emerson came to a dead halt when he saw the familiar form advancing toward him. Gargery drew himself up to his full height of five and a half feet, snapped off a salute, and got out three words-"Reporting for duty"-before Emerson seized him by the collar and began shaking him. It was the