The Hippopotamus Pool Read Online Free PDF Page A

children."
    "Who is the individual we are about to meet?"
    "I don't know. But," Emerson said, forestalling the objection I was about to make, "the message I received from him this morning contained some intriguing information. Knowing where I plan to excavate this season, he offered—"
    "He knows more than I, then," I said sharply. "When did you decide that, Emerson, and why is a total stranger more familiar with your thoughts than your own wife and professional partner?"
    Pulling me along, Emerson crossed the landing and started up the last flight of stairs. "Cursed if I know, Peabody. That was one of the things that provoked my curiosity. It was a deuced odd communication; the writer was clearly a man of intelligence and education, but he was equally clearly in a state of some agitation, demanding secrecy and hinting at unspecified but horrible dangers that threatened him. His claim that he knows the location of an unrobbed tomb is undoubtedly balderdash—"
    "What?" The word came out in a high-pitched squeak, for the rapidity of his movements had left me short of breath. "Where?" I demanded. Emerson stopped and looked at me reproachfully.
    "You needn't scream, Peabody. At Thebes, of course. Specifically ... but that is what we are about to discover. Come along, my dear, come along, or this mysterious individual may have second thoughts."
    A man stood before the door of our sitting room. He was not Emerson's mysterious visitor; he wore the uniform that distinguishes the employees of Shepheard's, and I recognized him as the suffragi who was on duty during the night hours. Seeing us, he sprang to attention. "Emerson Effendi! See, I have done as you asked. I have guarded your door. This person—"
    "What person?" Emerson demanded, looking up and down the deserted hall.
    Before Ali could reply, a form emerged from behind a turn in the corridor. It moved as silently as the specter it resembled; enveloped from shoulders to heels in folds of dark fabric, a broad-brimmed hat pulled low over its brow, it came to a halt some feet away. The nearest light was behind it and I felt sure it had chosen that position with deliberate intent, for the brim of the hat shadowed its features.
    "Ah," said Emerson, his good humor restored. "You are the gentleman who requested an appointment? I apologize for being late; it was all Mrs. Emerson's fault. You don't object to her joining us, I hope?"
    "Not at all." The comment was brief, the voice low and husky—obviously disguised.
    Emerson opened the door. "After you, my dear Peabody. And you, sir, come in."
    I had left one lamp burning, for a number of unpleasant experiences had taught me it is unwise to enter a totally darkened room, but it gave only enough light to assure me that there were no assassins or burglars lying in wait. I was about to press the switch that would turn on the overhead lights when a hand closed over mine. I let out a little cry of surprise and Emerson exclaimed, "What the devil—"
    "My heartfelt apologies, Mrs. Emerson," said the stranger, releasing my hand—and just in time too, for Emerson had already seized him by thecollar. "I did not mean to startle you. Please don't turn on the lights. I am taking a terrible risk by coming here; allow me to preserve my anonymity until we have reached an agreement—if that can be done."
    "Confound it," Emerson exclaimed. "I warn you, Mr. Saleh ... Ah, but am I to take it that the name you gave me is not your own?"
    "It will suffice for the present." The stranger had moved away, into a pool of shadow. He raised his hands to his face. Was he praying? I thought not. An anticipatory shiver of excitement rippled through my limbs.
    Emerson emitted a loud groan. "Oh, good Gad! Are we to have another of these melodramatic distractions? I suppose one season of simple archaeological excavation, uninterrupted by criminals, was too much to expect. Had I but known ... Well, curse it, the damage is done. Even if I were to follow my instincts,