The Hippopotamus Pool Read Online Free PDF Page B

into a fist and shaking it under my nose. "Reincarnation! Either he is a lunatic or he is inventing this lunatic tale in order to cover up a more sinister plan." He jumped to his feet and lunged at the stranger.
    Warned by Emerson's initial scream of rage, the stranger had also risen. The pistol he now held in his hand brought even my impetuous husband to an abrupt halt. "Hell and damnation," Emerson repeated, in a softer but even more ominous voice. "What is it you want, then? If you dare lay hands on my wife—"
    "I have no intention of harming either of you," was the quick response.
    "I go armed for other reasons, but I was not unprepared for your reaction. Only hear me out. What harm can it do?"
    "Go on," Emerson said curtly.
    "What I told you is true. This body is only the latest of many my ka has inhabited. You may believe it or not; that is immaterial to me. I mentioned it only to explain the source of the knowledge I am about to offer you. I know the location of her tomb. I can lead you to it—a queen's tomb, with its treasures intact."
    Emerson's breath caught. He did not believe it—but oh, how he wanted to! He would not have sold his soul for wealth or the face that launched a thousand ships, but a royal tomb! Mephistopheles himself could have made no offer more seductive to the heart of an Egyptologist, even that of a scholar who prizes knowledge above vulgar fame. Emerson's contributions to the field of Egyptology had won him the acclaim of his peers (and, I am sorry to say, a certain degree of vulgar fame as well), but he had never made that one outstanding discovery all archaeologists dream of. Could this be such a discovery?
    "Where?" he demanded.
    "Drah Abu'l Naga." The stranger stepped back and lowered the pistol. Like me, he had observed the signs, not of belief but of the desire to believe.
    In the days when he possessed a beard, Emerson had been wont to tug at it in moments of deep thought. Now sans beard, at my insistence, he had to content himself with rubbing the cleft in his chin. "Logical," he muttered. "But if you know anything about Egyptology, which you obviously do, you could have reasoned that out. Devil take it, Saleh, or whoever you are, what are you really after? If you know where such a tomb is located, why would you offer it to me?"
    "If I told you the truth, you would not believe me. No"—for I had attempted to return the ring to him—"it is mine no longer. The trust has passed on."
    "See here," said Emerson, controlling his temper more successfully than I had imagined possible. "If you are implying that Mrs. Emerson is your successor—future incarnation—oh, the devil!"
    "You, not she," was the calm reply.
    I held my breath, anticipating the threatened explosion. To my surprise, Emerson relaxed and a glint of humor warmed his stern face.
    "That is a more seemly alternative than the other. Just how is the transfer of personality and/or sacred duty effected, Mr. Saleh? I trust you don't expect me to undergo the standard purification rituals. Mrs. Emerson disapproves of beards, but I doubt she would allow me to shave my head, andnot even for the honor of being high priest of Tetisheri would I give up my roast beef and—er—certain other activities."
    "Mockery is your defense against the truth, Professor. You will learn soon enough that our fates are foreordained; your destiny will come upon you and you will accept it. Until that time, believe, if you prefer to do so, that I have come to ask your help for purely practical reasons.
    "The secret cannot be kept much longer. For a thousand generations we have protected her from the tomb robbers of Gurneh, from Greek and Roman and Byzantine thieves, from the predators of Europe and America. There are ways of leading searchers astray. When all else failed ..."
    "Murder?" I breathed the word.
    "When all else failed. But now there are too many searchers for treasure, and the number continues to increase. Foreign archaeologists swarm over the