Lucas stepped back a few paces. His face shone with sweaty pallor; his open mouth looked like a black wound. He fumbled in his jacket pocket. I deduced that his weapon held only two bullets and that he now had to refill it.
Walter had paused, poised on the edge of the drop, to see what would ensue. Needless to say, the actions which have taken so long to describe only occupied a few moments of real time. Now, with a shout of warning, Walter let himself drop. His booted feet struck the sloping heap of rocky detritus with a force that started a miniature landslide, but he did not lose his balance. Slipping, sliding, running, he reached the bottom and rushed on without a halt.
Lucas was shouting too, but I could not hear him because of the crash of falling rock. I would not have known he was speaking if I had not seen his lips move. He had finished loading the gun; he raised it. I cried out-but too late. Carried on by the impetus of his leap, Walter flung himself at the menace just as Lucas fired for the third time. And this time his bullet found a vulnerable target. Walter stood stock still. His head turned toward Lucas. His expression was one of utter astonishment. Then his head fell on his breast; his knees gave way; and he collapsed face down onto the sand. For the space of a single heartbeat there was not a sound. Lucas stood frozen, the pistol dangling from his lax hand; his face was a mask of horror. Then, from the Mummy, came a sound that froze the blood in my veins. The creature was laughing-howling, rather, with a hideous mirth that resembled the shrieks of a lost soul. Still laughing, it retreated, and none of the horrified watchers moved to prevent it. Even after the thing had vanished from sight around the curve of the cliff, I could hear its ghastly laughter reverberating from the rocky walls.
9
WHEN I reached Walter's side I found Emerson there before me. Where he had been, or how he had come, I did not know; brain and organs of sight were hazy with horror. Kneeling by his young brother, Emerson ripped the bloodstained shirt away from the body. Then he looked up at Lucas, who had joined us and was staring down at the fallen man.
'Shot in the back,' said Emerson, in a voice like none I had heard from him heretofore. 'Your hunting colleagues in England would not approve, Lord Ellesmere.'
'My God,' stammered Lucas, finding his voice at last. 'Oh, God- I did not mean- I warned him to keep away, he rushed in, I could not help -- For the love of heaven, Mr. Emerson, don't say he is- he is-'
'He is not dead,' said Emerson. 'Do you think I would be sitting here, discussing the matter, if you had killed him?'
My knees gave way. I sat down hard on the warm sand.
'Thank God,' I whispered.
Emerson gave me a critical look.
'Pull yourself together, Peabody, this is no time for a fit of the vapors. You had better see to the other victim; I think she has merely fainted. Walter is not badly hurt. The wound is high and clean. Fortunately his lordship's weapon uses small-caliber bullets.'
Lucas let out his breath. Some of the color had returned to his face.
'I know you don't like me, Mr. Emerson,' he said, with a new and becoming humility. 'But will you believe me when I say that the news you have just given us is the best I have heard for a long, long time?'
'Hmm,' said Emerson, studying him. 'Yes, your lordship; if it is any consolation to you, I do believe you. Now go and give Amelia a hand with Evelyn.'
Evelyn was stirring feebly when we reached her, and when she learned what had happened to Walter she was too concerned about him to think of herself. It is wonderful what strength love can lend; rising up from a faint of terror, she walked at Walter's side as his brother carried him to his bed, and insisted on helping me clean and dress the wound.
I was relieved to find that Emerson's assessment was correct. I had not had any experience with gunshot wounds, but a common-sense knowledge of anatomy assured me that the bullet had gone through the fleshy part of the right shoulder, without striking a bone.
I had not the heart to send Evelyn away, but really she was more of a handicap than a help; whenever I reached for a cloth or a bandage she was supposed to hand me, I would find her staring bemusedly at the unconscious lad, tears in her eyes and her feelings writ plain on her face for all the world to see. I could hardly blame her; Walter reminded me of the beautiful Greek youth Adonis, dying among the river reeds. He was slight, but his muscular development was admirable; the long lashes that shadowed his cheek, the tumbled curls on his brow, and the boyish droop of his mouth made a picture that must appeal to any woman who is sensitive to beauty and pathos.
Walter was conscious by the time I finished bandaging the wound. He did not speak at first, only watched me steadily, and when I had finished he thanked me with a pallid smile.
His first look, however, had been for Evelyn; and having assured himself that she was safe, he did not look at her again. As she turned away with her bowl of water, I saw her lips tremble.
Emerson had produced a new atrocity-a dreadful pipe that smelted like a hot summer afternoon on a poultry farm – and was sitting in a corner puffing out clouds of foul smoke. When I had finished with Walter, Emerson rose to his feet and stretched.
'The evening's entertainment is over, it seems,' he remarked. 'We may as well get some sleep for what is left of the night.'
'How can you talk of sleeping?' I demanded. 'I am so full of questions and comments- '
'More of the latter than the former, I fancy,' said Emerson, puffing away at his pipe. 'I don't think Walter is up to your conversation, Peabody. It takes a well man, in his full strength, to- '
'Now, Radcliffe, that will do,' Walter interrupted. His voice was weak, but the smile he gave me was his old sweet smile. 'I am not feeling too bad; and I agree with Miss Amelia that we have much to discuss.'
'I, too, agree,' said Lucas, breaking a long-for him- silence. 'But first- may I suggest a restorative, all around? A little brandy might ease Walter's pain- '
'I do not approve of spirits for such injuries,' I said firmly.
Emerson snorted through his pipe, producing a great puff of smoke.
'I am not in much pain,' Walter said. 'But perhaps brandy might help-the ladies. They- they have undergone a considerable shock.'
So we had our brandy. Emerson seemed to enjoy his very much. Although I do not ordinarily approve of spirits, they are of use in some situations; I felt the need of stimulants myself, and the liquor lessened Evelyn's pallor. She was still wearing her nightclothes and dressing gown, not having had time to dress. They were embroidered lawn, of a pale blue, and I could see that Lucas admired them.
'Well, Peabody,' said Emerson. 'What is your first question?'
'Now that is not easy to say. The entire episode has been so bewildering… First, though, I should like to know what has happened to Abdullah.'
'Good heavens,' exclaimed Lucas. 'I had quite forgotten him. Where is the fellow?'
'Don't waste your suspicious on Abdullah,' said Emerson. 'He is probably following the Mummy. I told him to do so if we fail to apprehend it. But I fancy he will be returning soon… Ah, yes, I believe I hear him now.'
He beamed as complacently as if he had arranged Abdullah's opportune arrival. The tall, stately form of the foreman now appeared at the entrance to the tomb. His eyes widened as he beheld Walter, and some time was wasted on explanations before Abdullah told us his story. Again, I translate into ordinary English.
He had been stationed by Emerson some distance from the camp. He had heard the shots but of course had not known what they betokened. They had, however, alerted him, and thus he was able to catch sight of the Mummy when it left us. Its speed amazed him; he kept repeating, 'It ran like a swift young man.' He
