His great object was to be off as soon as possible. When Mansfield was considered, time was precious; and the state of his own mind made him find relief only in motion.

It was settled that he should order the carriage to the door in half an hour. Fanny answered for their having breakfasted and being quite ready in half an hour. He had already eaten, and declined staying for their meal. He would walk round the ramparts, and join them with the carriage. He was gone again; glad to get away even from Fanny.

“Watch out for the peeling ruffians out there!” hollered Mr. Price in his wake. “It’s been blasted bad these last few days, they seem to be ’round every corner, assailing good folk—”

Oh my dear cousin, I need to warn you about the local mummies, thought Fanny, moments too late.

Edmund looked very ill; evidently suffering under violent emotions, which he was determined to suppress. She knew it must be so, but it was terrible to her.

The half hour flew by faster than imagined, when from outside came a minor commotion. Fanny could hear Edmund’s alarmed voice and the shrill sound of Rebecca, which quickly went silent. There was only the neighing of the carriage horses, and then there were several loud knocks.

Both Susan and Fanny came outside in haste to observe. Edmund was using the handle of a riding whip to beat away a huge, swaying, completely peeling monster of a mummy that had its skeletal arms around Rebecca, having propped her against the wall of the building. In an unseemly manner of a kiss it was taking her breath of life, while Rebecca was mesmerized senseless.

“What! Not this abomination here, too?” Edmund exclaimed, and he continued striking the undead thing to no avail from the back.

Fanny wrung her hands, glancing around for anything to use as a weapon. “I am so sorry not to have mentioned it earlier, cousin! But yes, as you can see, they are here, I believe having come down all the way from Mansfield at some point—not sure why—Susan, dear, can you please run inside and grab something—”

Susan didn’t need to be told twice. Like a valkyrie she flew inside, and like a banshee she emerged again seconds later, emboldened by the pile of unwashed laundry she held in her arms. “Fanny! Oh, Fanny, might any of this do? Oh!” And then she turned it over and saw something else, much, much better suited.

“Use the carpet, Fanny, use the carpet!”

It was indeed the famous length of carpet that Rebecca had never gotten to mending.

Edmund had let go of the horsewhip and now grappled with both hands in an attempt to pry away the mummy that had attached itself, like an immense three-thousand-year-old undead barnacle, to Rebecca’s face.