Consternation ruffled the serenity of the girl's brow, and again I came to her rescue. "I think it would be better for her to work with me for a few days, Emerson-to get the hang of our methods, if you will excuse the slang. I propose to have a look at the subsidiary pyramid. It shouldn't take long to determine whether there is anything left in the burial chamber. If necessary, we can hire a few more men."

"I don't know, Peabody," Emerson began. But I did not hear his objections; for, out of the corner of my eye, I had seen Ramses close his mouth. His mouth was usually open, speaking or attempting to speak; the sudden compression of his lips would have pa.s.sed unnoticed by a casual observer, but years of experience had taught me not to ignore the slightest change in that impa.s.sive though juvenile countenance. I promised myself I would have a word with Master Ramses. He knew something about the small pyramid, possibly from the illicit digging he had done at Dahshoor the year before.

"Well then, that is settled," Emerson said. "Er-it is getting late, don't you think?"

"No, not really," I said absently, for I was still thinking about the duplicity of my son. "Where are the rest of the things I bought today?"

Emerson indicated an untidy heap in the corner of the room. "Well," I said with a sigh, "we had better sort them out. Some will have to be taken to the tents. I also brought a few small items with me in the saddle bags. Where..." brought a few small items with me in the saddle bags. Where..."

Eventually I found them on the mastaba outside, where Abdullah had dumped them before returning the mare to her owner. Shaking my head, I carried them inside. My poor little nosegay had been crushed by Abdullah's careless handling. Emerson glanced at it as I put it to one side. "Buying yourself posies, Amelia?"

"No indeed. It was a gift from a gentleman," I said jestingly. Not that I wanted to arouse Emerson's jealousy, for such tricks are unworthy of an affectionate spouse. However, a little stirring up never hurts a husband.

Emerson only grunted. "Baehler, I suppose. These Frenchmen-"

"He is not French, Emerson. He is Swiss."

"It is the same thing."

"In fact, I am not certain of the ident.i.ty of the kind giver. The flowers were handed to me by a vendor as I left the hotel. Poor things, they were so pretty.... Here, Emerson, smell the fragrance."

I thrust them at him with playful impetuosity, so that the lower part of his face was quite smothered by the fading blossoms. Emerson's eyes bulged. With a cry he struck at my hand. The flowers fell to the floor, and Emerson began jumping up and down on them.

Miss Marshall leaped from her chair and retreated to the farthest corner of the room, staring. Knowing Emerson, I did not share her alarm, but I considered his reaction exaggerated, and I did not hesitate to say so. "Emerson, Mr. Baehler only meant to make a gallant gesture. You really must-"

"Gallant?" Emerson glared at me, and with a start of horror I saw that his brown cheek was disfigured by a creeping trail of blood. "A gallant gesture, upon my word," he cried. "Inserting a poisoned insect or an asp into a bouquet!" He resumed jumping up and down on the flowers. If a beaten earth floor could have reverberated, this one would have done so. "When my face- thump-turns black-thump-remember-thump-I gave my life-thump-for you!" word," he cried. "Inserting a poisoned insect or an asp into a bouquet!" He resumed jumping up and down on the flowers. If a beaten earth floor could have reverberated, this one would have done so. "When my face- thump-turns black-thump-remember-thump-I gave my life-thump-for you!"

"Emerson, my dearest Emerson!" I rushed to his side and attempted to lay hold of him. "Do stop jumping; violent physical activity will increase the rapidity of the movement of the poison through your veins!"

"Hmmm," said Emerson, standing still. "That is a good point, Peabody."

My heart pounded in profound agitation as I turned his face to the light. The wound was no more than a scratch, and it had already stopped bleeding. Shallow and uneven, it did not in the least resemble the bite of a venomous reptile or insect. Yet my tender anxiety was not entirely a.s.suaged until I heard Ramses remark calmly, "There is no animal life of any kind here, Papa. I believe this bit of metal must have scratched you. It seems exceedingly unlikely-"

Emerson flung himself at Ramses. "Drop it at once, my boy!"

Ramses eluded him with eellike sinuosity. "I am confident there is no danger, Papa. The object is-or was, until you trampled it underfoot-a trinket of some kind. The material appears to be gold."

Gold! How often in the course of human history has that word trembled through the air, rousing the strongest of pa.s.sions! Even we, who had learned in the course of our archaeological endeavors that the smallest sc.r.a.p of broken pottery may be more important than jeweled treasures-even we, I say, felt our pulses quicken.

Ramses held the sc.r.a.p near the lamp. The sensuous shimmer of light along its surface proved him right.

"I don't like you holding it, my boy," Emerson said nervously. "Give it to Papa."

Ramses obeyed, remarking as he did so, "Your fears for my well-being are, I a.s.sure you, Papa, without foundation. Mysterious poisons unknown to science are rare indeed; in fact, I believe I am safe in a.s.serting that they exist only in sensational fiction. Even the most virulent substances in the pharmacopoeia require dosages of several milligrams in order to ensure a fatal result, and if you will stop and consider the matter for a moment, you will agree that it would be impossible for a bit of metal this size to contain enough-"

"You have made your point, Ramses," I said.

Emerson turned the twisted metal over in his fingers. "It appears to be a ring," he said in a quiet voice.

"I do believe you are correct, Emerson. How very odd! Wait-turn it this way. I caught a glimpse of something-"

"There are a few hieroglyphic signs still decipherable," said the shrill voice of my infuriating offspring. "They were stamped upon the bezel of the ring, which had the shape of the cartouche used to enclose royal names. The alphabetic hieroglyph for n n was at the bottom; above it you will see the form of an animal-headed G.o.d, followed by two reed signs. The name is unquestionably that of Sethos, either the first or the second pharaoh of that name, and I would surmise-" was at the bottom; above it you will see the form of an animal-headed G.o.d, followed by two reed signs. The name is unquestionably that of Sethos, either the first or the second pharaoh of that name, and I would surmise-"

"Sethos!" I cried. "Good Gad-can it be-but it must be! That he would dare-that he would show such consummate-such incredible effrontery-that- that-"

Emerson took me by the shoulders and shook me so vigorously that quant.i.ties of hairpins flew from my head. "You are hysterical, Peabody," he shouted.

"Calm yourself-be still-stop shouting! What are you talking about? Who the devil is Sethos?"

I realized that Emerson had not been present when Mr. Nemo told me of this pseudonym. As soon as I could persuade him to leave off shaking me, I rendered the necessary explanations. The effect of my statement upon my husband was terrible to behold. The alteration of his normally handsome features was so dreadful that Enid fled into the night and Ramses was moved to exclaim, "Such engorgement of the blood vessels may betoken a seizure, Mama. Some cold water dashed in Papa's face-"

I was unable to prevent the application of this remedy, for Ramses acted upon it even as he spoke, and I must admit that it had a salubrious effect. Emerson sputtered and swore, but his fiery complexion subsided by gradual degrees and his acute intelligence triumphed over his choler. He stood in silence for a moment, dripping. Then he said quietly, "Nemo is certain of the name?"

"It is hardly a name he would invent, Emerson. He knows nothing of Egyptology. And what name could be more appropriate? For Set, as we know, was the evil adversary of the n.o.ble Osiris, and might be termed the Egyptian Satan. Though it appears that during some period of history, he was well enough regarded to act as patron of a royal house. The name Sethos means 'man of Set,' or 'follower of Set.' You remember, I am sure, the Kadesh inscription of Ramses the Second, which exalts the pharaoh by comparing his powers to those of the G.o.d: "Lord of fear, great of fame, In the hearts of all the lands. Great of awe, rich in glory, As is Set upon his mountain. ... Like a wild lion in a valley of goats!

"How admirably does this same comparison suit the enigmatic person who has a.s.sumed the sobriquet of Sethos! Ranging at will among his helpless victims, like the king of beasts-"

"Yes, yes," Emerson said. "But the name has another significance which seems to have eluded you."

"Sethos the First was the father of Ramses the Second," squeaked our son of the same name.

His father gave him a look of pure dislike-one of the few times I had seen Emerson regard the boy with disfavor.

"What the devil does that have to do with anything?" he demanded.

"Nothing at all," I said. "What are you getting at, Emerson?"

"Have you forgotten, Peabody, that Set was a redheaded G.o.d?"

There could be no doubt, even in the skeptical mind of my husband, that the token of flowers and jewel had come from that villain, the Master Criminal. Only he would have thought to taunt me by presenting me with one of the antique treasures he had stolen from a royal tomb-for, as I hardly need say, golden rings with a kingly cartouche are not easy to come by.

Emerson and I were still discussing the matter as we strolled across the silvery desert toward the Bent Pyramid. Miss Marshall trailed timidly in our wake, enc.u.mbered as we were by toilet articles, blankets, and so on. Knowing the poor girl must be utterly mystified, I requested Emerson to render a brief statement of our encounter with the Master Criminal during the previous season. He declined with a degree of acerbity even greater than the mention of this person's name generally produced, so I took the task on myself.

"You know, of course, Miss Marshall, about the deplorable trade in illicit antiquities. Owing to the vast number of buried tombs and cities, it is impossible for the Department of Antiquities to guard all of them, especially since the locations of many are not known. Untrained diggers, both native and foreign, lured by the high prices such antiques command, carry out digs of their own, often neglecting to keep the careful records that are essential if we-"

"If she already knows it, why are you telling her about it?" Emerson demanded. "The facts are known to every schoolchild, much less a trained excavator like Miss Marshall."

I laughed lightly. "Quite right, Emerson. I have delivered the lecture so often to tourists and other ignoramuses that I forgot myself.

"At any rate, Miss Marshall, we discovered that the illicit trade had increased a hundredfold, and deduced that some genius of crime had taken charge of the business. These deductions were triumphantly confirmed when we encountered the mastermind himself. Our investigations-the details of which I will not tell you at the present time, though they were fraught with interesting incidents-put a spoke in the wheel of this man; he had us abducted and imprisoned in a pyramid, from which we escaped by the skin of our teeth just in time to stop the genius of crime-"

"On the whole, Amelia," said Emerson in a reflective voice, "I believe I prefer even the atrocious term Master Criminal to genius of crime."

"Very well, Emerson, it is of small concern to me.

As I was saying, Miss Marshall, we robbed Sethos of his ill-gotten gains, but unfortunately he made good his escape. He is out there somewhere, lurking in the shadows of the underworld and, I do not doubt, burning for revenge. The flowers were a reminder that his unseen eyes are upon us and his unseen hand may at any moment descend."

Miss Marshall drew a long breath of amazement. "You quite take my breath away, Mrs. Emerson. What a thrilling tale!"

I thanked her, and Emerson growled, "Mrs. Emerson's rhetorical style, I fear, is influenced by her taste for third-rate romances. You left out all the important details, Amelia. Ramses' daring rescue-"

"I will elaborate at another time, Emerson. Here we are, at our little camp; I do hope, Miss Marshall, that you will be comfortable."

Emerson cheered up when he saw that the second, smaller tent had been placed some distance from our own. "Out of hearing range" was, I believe, his precise phrase. I got the girl settled nicely and returned to my spouse, who had already retired. The interior of the tent was quite dark; but when I asked Emerson to relight the lamp, he refused in such terms that I decided not to pursue the subject.

"I cannot see a thing, Emerson," I said, edging toward the spot where I believed he must be.

"I can't see you either, but I can hear you jingling," said Emerson's voice. A hand closed over the folds of my trousers and drew me down.

"You see?" said Emerson, after a while. "The visual sense is not necessary for the activities I had planned for this evening. One might even argue that it is an interference."

"Quite right, my dear Emerson. Only, if you don't mind, I would prefer to remove the net and combs and pins from my hair myself. You have just put your finger in my eye." mind, I would prefer to remove the net and combs and pins from my hair myself. You have just put your finger in my eye."

When these and other enc.u.mbrances to conjugal fraternization had been removed, Emerson drew me into his strong arms. Not wishing to discourage the sensations of intense affection that had begun to develop, I un.o.btrusively freed one hand long enough to draw a blanket over us. Once the sun goes down, the desert nights are chilly. Also, I had not closed the flap of the tent. However, I felt sure Miss Marshall had closed hers; Emerson had mentioned at least four times that she must be sure and do so, for fear of the night air.

As I have had occasion to remark earlier in the pages of this journal, I do not share the prudish att.i.tude of some self-appointed guardians of righteousness concerning the relationship of married persons. I rejoice- nay, I glory in-the depth of the regard Emerson and I have for one another. The fact that Emerson is as attracted by my physical characteristics as he is by my character and my spiritual qualities should, in my opinion, be a source of pride rather than embarra.s.sment.

I will therefore state, candidly and without reserve, that I sensed a subtle change in his behavior that night. It was more tempestuous and at the same time oddly tentative. This may sound contradictory. It was was contradictory. I cannot account for it, I can only say that such was the case. contradictory. I cannot account for it, I can only say that such was the case.

Sometime later, after we had settled into our usual sleeping positions-Emerson flat on his back with his arms folded across his breast like a mummified Egyptian pharaoh, I on my side with my head against his shoulder-I heard him sigh.

"Peabody."

"Yes, my dear Emerson?"

"There is, if I am not mistaken, a foolish convention known as the language of flowers."

"I believe you are not mistaken, Emerson."

"What do red roses mean in the language of flowers, Peabody?"

"I have no idea, Emerson. Like yourself, I am sublimely indifferent to foolish conventions."

"I think I can guess, though," Emerson muttered.

"Emerson, I cannot imagine why you should concern yourself about such a trivial and meaningless matter when we have so many other important issues to discuss. Several things happened today that I want to tell you about. I met a gentleman-a very interesting and attractive individual-"

Emerson rolled over and seized me in a fierce embrace. "Don't talk to me about interesting gentlemen, Peabody. Don't talk at all!"

And he proceeded to make it difficult, if not impossible, for me to do so, even if I had been so inclined, which at that particular moment I was not.

Seven.

When we returned to the house next day, we found another group of would-be workers patiently waiting outside the gates. Ramses advanced purposefully on Enid, and she fled into her room. Nemo was nowhere to be seen; but I had observed the flutter of a ragged robe in the doorway of the donkey shed, so I went after him.

Since part of the roof was missing, I had no trouble noticing that Nemo had obeyed only part of my orders. He was clean-shaven, and smelled of Pears soap; his hair had been combed and flattened down with water, though drying strands curled around his neck and brow. I reminded myself I must not forget to give him a haircut.

I asked why he had not put on his new suit. Instead of answering he countered with another question. "Is there any reason why I should not wear native costume, Mrs. Emerson? I am used to it now, and it is much more comfortable."

"You can wear anything you like, so long as it is clean. I do not tolerate slovenliness on my expeditions. Is that your only robe? Well, then, we will wash it this evening, and while it dries I will cut your hair."

Mr. Nemo made a face, like a little boy about to be given medicine, but he had learned the futility of arguing with me. "I wonder if I might ask you for a pair of blue spectacles, Mrs. Emerson. The blazing sun is hard on my eyes."

"Don't try to deceive me, Mr. Nemo. I know why you want the spectacles-you will find a pair in the third box on the second shelf in the sitting room. You are ashamed of having the young lady see you. Childish, Mr. Nemo. Very childish. You will have to face her sooner or later."

"Not if I can help it," Nemo muttered. "Mrs. Emerson, all this fuss about washing and cutting hair is a waste of time. Shouldn't we be bending all our efforts to finding the criminal you mentioned? Surely we would have a better chance of spotting him in Cairo. I could return to my old haunts, and-"

"No, no, Mr. Nemo. You have not the faintest idea of how to proceed. Leave that to me, and follow my orders implicitly. Was there any disturbance last night?"

"No, all was quiet. But that news seems to disappoint you, Mrs. Emerson. Were you hoping for another attack on your son?"

"I am am disappointed; I was hoping for an attack- though not necessarily on Ramses. Do you not see, Mr. Nemo, that we have not a hope of finding the man we want among the teeming thousands of Cairo? The fellow is a master of disguise; he might be anyone. Our disappointed; I was hoping for an attack- though not necessarily on Ramses. Do you not see, Mr. Nemo, that we have not a hope of finding the man we want among the teeming thousands of Cairo? The fellow is a master of disguise; he might be anyone. Our best hope is to wait for him to come to us." best hope is to wait for him to come to us."

"You mean we must sit and wait-indefinitely?" "Not indefinitely. Not long, in fact. Sooner or later he will visit us; he has made his interest plain; and I have a few ideas as to how to attract his attention. No, do not ask me what they are; just leave it to me. Now I must be going. Remember-watch Ramses!"

"With all respect, Mrs. Emerson, I cannot imagine why you talk about the boy as if he were some sort of monster. He seems a decent little chap-frightfully long-winded-I don't believe I have ever heard anyone use so many confounded polysyllabic words. Aside from that, he appears normal enough. Is there something you haven't told me? Does he suffer from-forgive me-fits of hereditary madness?"

"I would hate to think it is hereditary," I said. "No, Mr. Nemo, Ramses is quite sane-cold-bloodedly, terrifyingly sane. That is why he is so dangerous. Let me give you a brief summary.... No, I have not the time. Even a brief summary would take too long. Just watch him!"

When we set out for the dig a short time later, Nemo mingled with the men. We had taken on an additional dozen or so diggers and a like number of basket children, who were to work with me. We separated our forces, Emerson leading his crew to the Bent Pyramid, and I proceeding toward the smaller one.

This structure was some sixty yards south of its larger neighbor and was obviously part of the same complex. The precise function of the subsidiary pyramids was still being debated. There were three of them attached to the Great Pyramid at Giza, and others at other sites. For my part, I felt certain they had been built for the princ.i.p.al consorts of the kings who were buried in the larger pyramids. If I could find a mark or inscription mentioning a royal lady's name, I could prove my thesis. a royal lady's name, I could prove my thesis.

I studied the charming little ruin, trying to decide where to begin. I could not determine its height, for not only was the drifting sand piled high around its base, but the removal of the casing stones which had once covered its surface like frosting on a cake had allowed it to slump like an overweight lady after she has removed her corsets. The first thing was to remove the sand and clear the four sides down to ground level.

Enid trailed after me like a dog who is afraid to lose his master. As I proceeded, I explained to her what I was doing and why. "I have decided to begin with the north face, since it is more likely that the funerary chapel would be on the side closest to the princ.i.p.al monument. That hollow to the west will be our dump site. We don't want to cover up any other tombs, and I see no evidence of such a thing there. Here, on this plan, which has been mapped and surveyed, I am indicating the area we will be excavating. It is marked out in squares of ten feet by ten.... Miss Marshall, you are not paying attention. You will give yourself away sooner or later if you don't learn to make noises like an Egyptologist."

"Why not sooner, then? This is hopeless, Mrs. Emerson. Perhaps the best thing for me to do is to turn myself in. What good am I doing here?"

"Faint heart never won... anything, my dear," I said, amending the quotation as the situation demanded. "I am surprised to see you give up so soon."

"But it is hopeless!"

"Not at all. Kalenischeff-did I mention this?-was a member of the Master Criminal's gang. He was murdered, if not by that man's hand, by his orders. All we have to do-"

"Is find this man-who, by your own admission, is a master of disguise and whose ident.i.ty is unknown even to you-and force him to confess! You have your own duties, Mrs. Emerson-your husband, your child, your work-" a master of disguise and whose ident.i.ty is unknown even to you-and force him to confess! You have your own duties, Mrs. Emerson-your husband, your child, your work-"

"My dear Miss Marshall, you underestimate me if you think I cannot carry on two or more activities simultaneously. It is true that I am looking forward to solving the mystery of this little pyramid, but that does not mean I cannot at the same time put my mind to solving a mystery of another kind. I have several schemes in mind-"

"What?"

It was the second time someone had asked me that question, and I had to admit it was a good question. "The less you know, the safer you will be," I said. "Trust me."