elizabethpeters.thegoldenone-第1章

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　TO　TRACEY
　We　praise　the　Golden　One；　the　Lady　of　Heaven；　Lady　of　Fragrance；Eye　of　the　Sun；　the　Great　Goddess；Mistress　of　All　the　Gods；Lady　of　Turquoise；　Mistress　of　Joy；　Mistress　of　Music　。　。　。that　she　may　give　us　fine　children；happiness；　and　a　good　husband。
　
　…　Epithets　of　Hathor；piled　from　various　sources
　
　　ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
　　
　To　err　is　human；　and　I　am　and　I　do；　despite　the　fact　that　I　go　to　considerable　effort　to　get　even　small　details　right。　I　do　not　scruple　to　make　use　of　my　friends　in　this　endeavor；　several　of　them　have　read　all　or　part　of　the　manuscript　and　made　suggestions。　I　am　particularly　indebted　to　Tim　Hardman　and　Ann　Crispin；　for　setting　me　straight　on　the　（to　me）　esoteric　subject　of　horses　and　cavalry。　Catharine　Roehrig；　one　of　the　few　Egyptologists　who　have　visited　the　area　of　the　southwest　wadis；　was　good　enough　to　tell　me　where　I　went　wrong　in　my　initial　description。　Donald　Ryan；　one　of　the　few　others；　also　corrected　mistakes　in　his　usual　tactful　manner。　Dennis　Forbes；　George　Johnson；　and　Kristen　Whitbread　read　the　entire　bulky　manuscript　and　offered　advice。　If　errors　remain；　they　are　mine；　and　not　those　of　my　advisers。
　　PREFACE
　　
　The　Editor　is　pleased　to　present　another　of　the　journals　of　Mrs。　Amelia　Peabody　Emerson；　Egyptologist；　adventurer；　wife；　and　mother。　（She　would；　the　Editor　believes；　approve　that　order。）　Editing　her　prose　is　no　easy　task；　for　the　original　text　contains　some　misinformation；　a　great　deal　of　repetition；　and　certain　omissions。　In　order　to　repair　the　latter　fault；　the　Editor　has；　as　before；　inserted　sections　from　Manuscript　H；　begun　by　Ramses　Emerson　at　approximately　the　age　of　sixteen；　and　continued　by　him　and　his　wife　after　their　marriage。　This　manuscript　describes　events　at　which　Mrs。　Emerson　was　not　present；　and　gives　a　viewpoint　differing　in　significant　ways　from　hers。　She　was　an　extremely　opinionated　lady。
　The　rest　of　the　Emerson　papers　are　still　being　studied；　collated；　and　edited。　Material　from　these　sources　has　appeared　in　earlier　volumes　（and　may　appear　in　the　future）；　but　none　of　it　adds　anything　relevant　to　the　present　volume。
　
　PART　ONE
　
　The　Cemeteryof　the　Monkeys
　
　1
　　
　When　I　am　in　one　of　my　philosophical　moods；　I　am　inclined　to　wonder　whether　all　families　are　as　difficult　as　mine。
　I　was　in　such　a　mood　as　I　dressed　for　dinner　on　the　penultimate　evening　of　our　voyage。　We　would　dock　at　Alexandria　in　two　days；　unless；　of　course；　the　ship　was　sunk　by　a　German　torpedo。　A　winter　voyage　from　England　to　Egypt　is　never　fortable；　but　in　that　fateful　December　of　1916；　after　more　than　two　years　of　war；　the　possibility　of　submarine　attack　had　been　added　to　the　perils　of　rough　seas　and　stormy　weather。
　I　was　not　thinking　of　that　danger　…　for　I　make　it　a　habit　never　to　worry　about　matters　that　are　beyond　my　control　…　nor　of　the　difficulty　of　trying　to　keep　my　footing　while　the　floor　of　the　cabin　rose　and　fell　and　the　oil　lamps　swung　wildly　on　their　brackets　…　for　mine　is　the　sort　of　mind　that　rises　above　such　things　…　but　perhaps　these　considerations　did　affect　me　more　than　I　realized；　giving　a　pessimistic　cast　to　my　normally　cheerful　reflections。
　Mind　you；　I　had　no　legitimate　grounds　for　plaint　about　my　immediate　family。　My　husband；　Radcliffe　Emerson；　is　the　most　distinguished　Egyptologist　of　this　or　any　other　era。　His　sapphirine…blue　eyes；　the　cleft；　or　dimple；　in　his　strong　chin；　his　thick　sable　hair；　and　muscular　but　symmetrical　frame　are　additional　attractions　to　me　and；　I　regret　to　say；　to　innumerable　other　females。
　He　has　a　few　minor　eccentricities：　his　mand　of　invective；　which　has　earned　him　the　Egyptian　sobriquet　of　Father　of　Curses；　his　explosive　temper；　his　autocratic；　arbitrary　method　of　dealing　with　the　authorities　of　the　Service　des　Antiquités；　which　had　led　in　the　past　to　our　being　barred　from　most　of　the　interesting　sites　in　Egypt　。　。　。
　Well；　but　no　proud　mother　could　have　asked　for　a　better　son　than　mine。　Ramses　had　been　named　for　his　Uncle　Walter；　but　everyone　called　him　by　the　nickname　given　him　by　his　father　in　infancy。　He　was　as　handsome　and　intellectually　gifted　as　his　father；　idealistic；　kind；　and　courageous　。　。　。　A　little　too　courageous；　perhaps？　He　had　been　one　of　the　most　infuriating　children　I　have　ever　had　the　misfortune　to　encounter；　and　his　reckless　disregard　for　danger；　when　he　believed　the　cause　he　supported　to　be　morally　right；　was　one　trait　that　I　had　been　unable　to　eradicate。　The　most　terrifying　of　his　adventures　had　occurred　during　the　winter　of　1914…15；　when　he　had　taken　on　a　secret　assignment　for　the　War　Office。　He　and　his　best　friend；　David；　had　pleted　their　mission　successfully；　but　both　had　been　seriously　injured；　and　Ramses's　true　identity　had　been　exposed　to　agents　of　the　Central　Powers。　I　had　hoped　his　marriage　would　sober　him；　but　although　he　was　as　passionately　attached　to　his　beautiful　wife　as　Emerson　was　to　my　humble　self；　Nefret　had　not　been　the　calming　influence　for　which　I　had　hoped。　She　would　have　thrown　herself　in　front　of　a　charging　lion　if　Ramses　were　its　destined　prey；　but　what　I　wanted　was　someone　who　would　prevent　him　from　provoking　lions　in　the　first　place。
　Nefret　had　been　our　ward；　dear　as　a　daughter；　before　she　married　our　son。　As　a　firm　believer　in　the　equality　of　the　female　gender；　I　could　only　approve　the　determination　with　which　she　had　achieved　against　considerable　odds　her　goal　of　qualifying　as　a　surgeon。　As　a　person　of　high　moral　principles　I　could　only　mend　her　for　spending　part　of　her　large　fortune　in　establishing　in　Cairo　a　hospital　for　women　that　served　even　the　lowest　and　most　despised　members　of　that　sex。　If　only　she　would　consent　to　settle　down　…　devote　her　ardent　energies　to　medicine　and　to　archaeology；　and　to　Ramses　…　and　perhaps　。　。　。
　The　boat　gave　a　great　lurch　and　I　dropped　the　earring　I　was　endeavoring　to　insert。　With　a　muttered　〃Curse　it〃　I　lowered　myself　to　hands　and　knees　and　began　feeling　about　on　the　floor　…　without；　I　hardly　need　say；　losing　the　track　of　my　mental　musing。
　Honesty　pels　me　to　admit　that　the　propensity　of　my　son　and　daughter　to　bee　engaged　with　individuals　who　desired　to　wreak　grave　bodily　harm　upon　them　was　not　entirely　their　fault。　Emerson　and　I　tended　to　attract　such　individuals　too。　Over　the　years　we　had　dealt　…　effectively；　I　hardly　need　add　…　with　murderers；　forgers；　tomb　robbers；　and　criminals　of　various　sorts。　Several　of　them　had　been　related　to　us。
　As　I　crawled　under　the　dressing　table　in　pursuit　of　the　elusive　earring；　I　remembered　something　Emerson　had　said　about　my　side　of　the　family；　to　the　effect　that　not　one　of　them　had　any　redeeming　qualities　whatever。　This　was　rude；　but　undeniably　correct。　One　of　my　nephews　had　been　…　I　am　happy　to　employ　the　past　tense　…　a　thoroughly　repellent　human　being。　Sennia；　his　little　daughter　by　a　Cairo　prostitute；　who　had　been　callously　abandoned　by　her　father；　was　now　part　of　our　family。
　The　boat　bounced　again　and　the　top　of　my　head　came　into　painful　contact　with　the　underside　of　the　dressing　table。　Since　I　was　alone；　with　no　one　to　overhear；　I　permitted　myself　a　few　expletives。　I　do　not　approve　of　bad　language；　but　everybody　else　in　the　family　employs　it　freely。　It　is　Emerson's　fault。　He　cannot　or　will　not　restrain　himself　and　of　course　the　children　emulate　him。　There　are　times　when　Nefret's　language　。　。　。
　The　cursed　earring　continued　to　elude　me；　but　I　endeavored；　as　is　my　habit；　to　look　on　the　bright　side。　Emerson's　kin　were　exemplary　human　beings：　his　brother　Walter；　a　true　scholar　and　gentle　man；　Walter's　wife；　my　close　friend　Evelyn；　and　their　fine　brood　of　children；　in　which　category　I　must　include　the　husband　of　their　daughter　Lia。　David；　a　talented　artist　and　trained　Egyptologist；　and　Ramses's　best　friend；　was　the　grandson　of　our　dear　departed　reis　Abdullah。　We　had　missed　him　terribly　the　year　before；　in　both　his　professional　and　personal　capacities。
　However；　there　was　Emerson's　other　brother。
　The　door　burst　open　and　Emerson　staggered　in。　Observing　my　position；　he　let　out　a　bellow　of　alarm；　seized　me　round　the　waist；　and　lifted　me　to　my　feet　…　and　off　them。　〃Did　you　fall；　sweetheart？　The　cursed　boat　is　bouncing　like　a　rubber　ball。　Speak　to　me；　Peabody。〃
　I　was　touched　by　his　use　of　my　maiden　name；　which　he　employs　as　a　term　of　approbation　and　endearment；　and　by　his　tender　concern；　but　disfort　pelled　me　to　utter　a　mild　plaint。　〃I　cannot　breathe；　Emerson；　you　are　squeezing　me　too　tightly。〃
　〃Oh。〃　Emerson　removed　one　arm　and　caught　hold　of　the　doorframe。
　〃I　dropped　an　earring；〃　I　explained；　after　drawing　a　long　breath。　〃Pray　put　me　down；　my　dear。　I　don't　want　to　lose　it；　it　was　one　of　the　pair　you　gave　me　last　Christmas。〃
　〃I　will　find　it。〃　Emerson　deposited　me　on　the　bed　and　began　crawling　round　the　floor。　〃Stay　still　or　you　will　brain　yourself。　Ah　…　here　you　are；　my　love。〃
　The　gem　winked　and　sparkled　in　his　big　brown　hand。　As　a　general　rule　I　do　not　care　for　diamonds　…　an　antique　scarab　or　a　string　of　mummy　beads　is　much　more　to　my　taste　…　but　Emerson　had　selected　the　stones　and　designed　the　settings。　Having　observed　that　other　women　seemed　to　like　diamonds　…　it　had　only　taken　him　thirty　years　to　notice　this　…　he　had　decided　I　should　have　some；　too。
　〃Why　have　you　got　yourself　up　so　formally？〃　he　demanded。　〃No　one　will　dress　for　dinner　tonight；　the　sea　is　too　rough。〃
　〃It　is　necessary　to　keep　up　appearances；　especially　in　times　such　as　these。　Have　you　forgotten　the　date？〃
　〃Yes；〃　said　Emerson；　in　…　I　could　only　suppose　…　a　desperate　attempt　to　forestall　my　suggestion　that　he　assume　evening　dress。　Emerson　dislikes　the　confinement　of　tightly　fitting　garments；　and　I　would　be　the　first　to　admit　that　his　impressive　form　never　shows　to　better　advantage　than　when　he　is　attired　in　the　wrinkled　flannels　and　open…necked　shirts　he　wears　on　the　dig。　I　felt　obliged　to　persevere；　however。
　〃It　is　December　the　thirty…first；　Emerson。　We　must　toast　the　New　Year　and　pray　that　1917　will　bring　better　hopes。〃
　〃Bah；〃　said　Emerson。　〃It　is　an　artificial　distinction　with　no　meaning。　The　only　significance　of　January　the　first　is　that　we　will　be　one　day　closer　to　Alexandria。　You　are　fine　enough　for　both　of　us。　That　gown　bees　you；　my　love。　Is　it　new？〃
　It　was　not；　and　he　knew　it　…　at　least　I　think　he　did　…　it　is　difficult　to　be　certain　with　Emerson；　since　he　remains　happily　oblivious　to　things　one　expects　him　to　notice；　and　sees　things　one　hopes　he　will　not。
　A　glance　in　the　mirror　gave　me　little　in　the　way　of　confirmation　of　his　pliment；　for　my　image　was　distorted　by　movement　and　shadow。　However；　I　know　my　own　appearance　well　enough　…　a　form　perhaps　slightly　more　rounded　than　in　the　distant　past；　a　rather　too　prominent　chin；　eyes　of　steely　gray；　and　black　hair　that　is　long　and　thick　but　not　sleekly　shining；　despite　the　hundred　strokes　of　a　brush　it　receives　each　evening。　（In　the　pages　of　my　private　journal　I　will　confess　that　its　color　owes　a　little　something　to　art　rather　than　to　nature。　Emerson　is　unaware　of　this　small　deception　and　I　have　seen　no　reason　to　enlighten　him。）　In　short；　beautiful　I　am　not　…　except　in　the　eyes　of　my　husband。
　Softened　by　this　touching　thought；　I　smiled　affectionately　at　him。　〃No；　Emerson；　you　would　be　the　only　person　not　in　evening　dr