The Last Camel Died at Noon Read Online Free PDF Page B

brandy, Lord Blacktower?' I asked.

    'You are graciousness itself, dear madam, but I have already taken too great advantage of your good nature. Allow me only to explain why I venture to burst in upon you so unceremoniously, and then I will remove myself - and my grandson, whose presence is the cause, if not the excuse, for my rudeness.' He did not look at Mr Forthright, but went on with scarcely a pause. 'I intended to approach you, and your distinguished husband, through the proper channels. Learning by chance, this afternoon, that my grandson had taken it upon himself to anticipate me, I was forced to act quickly. Mrs Emerson...' He leaned towards me and placed his hand on my knee. 'Mrs Emerson! My son lives! Find him. Bring him back to me.'

    His hand was heavy as stone and cold as ice. I stared at the veins squirming across the skin like fat blue worms, at the tufts of greyish-red hair on his fingers. And still no objection from Emerson! It was unaccountable!

    Only maternal sympathy for a parent driven into madness by the loss of a beloved child kept me from flinging his hand away. 'Lord Blacktower,' I began.

    'I know what you are about to say.' His fingers tightened. 'You don't believe me. Reginald there has probably told you that I am a senile old man, clinging to an impossible hope. But I have proof, Mrs Emerson - a message from my son, containing information only he could know. I received it a few days ago. Find him, and anything you ask of me will be yours. I won't insult you by offering you money -'

    "That would be a waste of your time,' I said coldly.

    He went on as though I had not spoken.' - though I would consider it an honour to finance your future expeditions, on any scale you might desire. Or a chair in archaeology for that husband of yours. Or a knighthood. Lady Emerson, eh?'

    His accent had coarsened, and his speech, not to mention his hand, had grown increasingly familiar. However, it was not the insult to his wife but the implied insult to himself that finally moved Emerson to speak.

    'You are still wasting your time, Lord Blacktower. I don't buy honours or allow anyone else to purchase them for me.'

    The old man let out a rumbling roar of laughter. 'I wondered what it would take to rouse you, Professor. Every man has his price, you know. But yours - aye, I'll do you justice; none of the things I've offered would touch you. I've got something I fancy will. Here - have a look at this.'

    Reaching into his pocket he drew out an envelope. I re-arranged my skirts; I fancied I could still feel the imprint of his hand, burning cold against my skin.

    Emerson took the envelope. It was not sealed. With the same delicacy of touch he used on fragile antiquities, he drew from the envelope a long, narrow, flat object. It was cream-coloured and too thick to be ordinary paper, but there was writing on it. I was unable to make out the words.

    Emerson studied it in silence for a few moments. Then his lip curled. 'A most impudent and unconvincing forgery.'

    'Forgery! That is papyrus, is it not?'

    'It is papyrus,' Emerson admitted. 'And it is yellowed and brittle enough to be ancient Egyptian in origin. But the writing is neither ancient nor Egyptian. What sort of nonsense is this?'

    The old man bared his teeth, which resembled the papyrus in colour. 'Read it, Professor. Read the message aloud.'

    Emerson shrugged. 'Very well. "To the old lion from the young lion, greetings. Your son and daughter live; but not long, unless help comes soon. Blood calls to blood, old lion, but if that call is not strong enough, seek the treasure of the past in this place where I await you." Of all the childish -'

    'Childish, yes. It began when he was a boy, reading romances and tales of adventure. It became a kind of private code. He wrote to no one else in that way - and no living man or woman knew of it. Nor knew that his name for me was the old lion.' He resembled one at that moment - a tired old lion with sagging jowls and