"So long as you have hold of him, Emerson, you may as well drag him out into the moonlight," I suggested. "Though a less painful hold, one that does not put such a strain on his presumed wound-"

"Hmmm, yes, quite right, my dear," said Emerson. He transferred his grip to the man's shoulders and with a heave of his mighty arms pulled him across the sand until the bright rays of the moon illumined his body.

A crowd of curiosity seekers had collected. The non-Arabs among them soon turned away in disgust upon seeing that the object of attention was only a ragged beggar. The Egyptians recognized Emerson and promptly squatted in a circle, waiting to see what would transpire, for, as one of them remarked to a friend, "The Father of Curses is a great magician. Perhaps he will bring this dead man to life."

Some of the onlookers carried torches and lanterns. Among them was Sheikh Abu, who hastened to Emerson with e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns of relief and congratulation. "Your son has been restored. Praise Allah!"

"Yes, quite," Emerson replied. "No thanks to the guides you a.s.signed to us. See here, Abu-"

"First things first, Emerson," I interrupted. "Abu, please bring the lantern closer. And lend me your knife."

In the warm yellow glow of the lantern the inky stains on the man's sleeve sprang to ominous life. I seized Abu's knife and prepared to cut the cloth away. The crowd, which resembled nothing so much as an a.s.sortment of laundry bags fallen haphazardly from the back of a cart, squirmed closer, and the same commentator remarked, "It is the Sitt Hakim. No doubt she will cut off the man's arm," to which his companion replied eagerly, "Lean back so that I may see better." eagerly, "Lean back so that I may see better."

The knife wound was on the outside of the man's arm, from just above the wrist almost to the elbow. Fortunately it had not touched any of the major muscles or blood vessels, but it was still oozing the roseate ichor of life, so I bound it up as best I could. My patient lay quiet, his eyes closed, but I suspected he had regained consciousness, and this suspicion was confirmed when, upon my again attempting to remove his turban, my hand was pushed away.

I repeated my rea.s.surance, adding, "I must see your head, friend, to determine whether you suffer from... Curse it," I added in English, "what is the Arabic for concussion?"

"If such a word exists, I am not acquainted with it," said Ramses, squatting beside me with the same boneless ease Egyptians demonstrate in a.s.suming that awkward position. "But you need not tax your knowledge of Arabic, Mama. The gentleman is English."

"Courtesy is a quality I always commend, Ramses," I said. "But the word 'gentleman,' when applied to this no doubt honest but somewhat disreputable ... What did you say? English?"

"Unquestionably," said Ramses. "I thought as much yesterday, when I saw him juggling the oranges the fruit vendor had let fall. There are certain idiosyncratic structures of face and body found only in the members of the Celtic subrace, and the stubble of beard on his face, though darkened by prolonged abstinence from the means of ablution, had a reddish tinge. Should there be any doubt in your mind, Mama, as to the extent of my anatomic expertise or the accuracy of my observations, let me add that I distinctly heard issue from his lips, when one of his a.s.sailants attacked, the word 'd.a.m.n.' "

The word was repeated, just as distinctly, by the same lips. The closed eyes snapped open. The irises were a bright, fiery blue-not the deep sapphire of Emerson's eyes, but the identical shade of the turquoise used so often in ancient Egyptian jewelry. lips. The closed eyes snapped open. The irises were a bright, fiery blue-not the deep sapphire of Emerson's eyes, but the identical shade of the turquoise used so often in ancient Egyptian jewelry.

I sat back on my heels. "Nonsense," I said. "You will find high cheekbones and blue eyes among the Berber tribesmen to the north. A splendid race of men, true sons of the desert; it is a pity to find one of them in such a state of degradation-"

"But it would be an even greater pity, would it not, to find a member of the superior British race in that condition?" The words, couched in the purest English, came from the fallen man. His lips writhed in a sardonic smile, and he went on, "I regret to disappoint you, madam. I thank you for your attentions. And I beg you will allow me to return to my gutter in peace."

He attempted to rise, but sank back, swooning. I took advantage of his helpless state to pluck the filthy turban and the underlying brown felt libdeh libdeh (cap) from his head. No wonder he had resisted my attempts to remove them! I had known Berbers with blue or gray eyes, but never one with hair of that peculiar red-gold that is the hallmark of the northern peoples. Strands of silver intertwined with the gold. Yet as I examined the sun-browned countenance, further darkened (as Ramses had said) by a layer of grime, I realized it was that of a young man. What terrible tragedy had rendered him prematurely gray? Or was it the result of dissipation and drugs? (cap) from his head. No wonder he had resisted my attempts to remove them! I had known Berbers with blue or gray eyes, but never one with hair of that peculiar red-gold that is the hallmark of the northern peoples. Strands of silver intertwined with the gold. Yet as I examined the sun-browned countenance, further darkened (as Ramses had said) by a layer of grime, I realized it was that of a young man. What terrible tragedy had rendered him prematurely gray? Or was it the result of dissipation and drugs?

My cogitations were rudely interrupted by Emerson, who had concluded his discussion with Abu and appeared in excellent spirits. This is often the case with Emerson after he has scolded someone.

"So Ramses' hero is an Englishman? A Scot, rather, I think. He would not thank you for the error, Ramses."

He bent over the young man. "You had better return with us to the hotel, my friend."

The gentleman-for such he must be, from his educated accent-glared malevolently and impartially upon us all. "If you wish to repay me for any fancied service, you can do so by leaving me at liberty to do as I like."

"I am in complete sympathy with your desire for privacy and independence," Emerson said. "I do not wish to reward you; I wish to offer you a position."

"What?" Astonishment smoothed the scowl from the young man's brow and gave his countenance an ingenuous look that made me yearn to a.s.sist him. What he needed was a woman's firm and compa.s.sionate care, and I was about to say so when Emerson nudged me with such force that I was caught off balance-squatting being a position I never a.s.sume with ease-and toppled gently onto my side. While I was endeavoring to rea.s.sume an upright position, Emerson continued.

"I have been searching for a muscular and dependable person to take charge of my son. My name is Emerson, and this lady-"

"I know who you are, sir."

"Then you may also know that Mrs. Emerson is my professional a.s.sociate as well as my wife. (Do get up, Amelia, you look very unprofessional squirming on the ground like an overturned beetle.) She has not the time to give Ramses the attention he requires-"

"I would say that Master Ramses requires a good deal of attention, if the events of this evening are typical." A faint smile accompanied this comment.

"This evening's events are not..." Emerson stopped. "Er-be that as it may, we are leaving tomorrow morning for Dahshoor, in order to begin our excavations. You would do us a favor if you would consent to take the position, for which you have already proved yourself so admirably qualified." consent to take the position, for which you have already proved yourself so admirably qualified."

I fancy the young man's surprise at this offer was scarcely less than my own. His response was a sardonic laugh. ' 'You are out of your head, Professor. Would you entrust your son to a renegade, a beggar, a smoker of opium, a hashish-eater?"

"As to that," I began, but did not finish the sentence because I saw Emerson's elbow jut out, and my balance was still precarious.

"So long as you refrain from indulging in drugs while on duty, your habits are not my concern," said Emerson.

"Well... Why not? It would be a new experience, at any rate."

"Then let us return to the hotel," I said, rising.

"I will not go with you," said the young man firmly.

"In heaven's name, why not?"

"Because ... I choose not to," was the sullen reply.

"You may choose to go to Shepheard's or to the devil," snapped Emerson, whose patience was at an end. "Do I understand that you have refused my offer, Mr.-"

"Call me Nemo."

Emerson raised his eyebrows. Before he could comment, the young man continued, "I do not refuse. But I have certain personal matters to attend to before I leave Cairo. I will be at the hotel tomorrow-at what hour?"

"Seven A.M."

"Seven," Nemo repeated. "Until then, Professor."

Disdaining my offer of a supporting hand, he rose and walked away without a backward glance.

We returned to our waiting carriage. Several other equipages were also waiting; the one Kalenischeff had driven was not among them. When our vehicle was underway, Emerson said, "Well, Peabody?" driven was not among them. When our vehicle was underway, Emerson said, "Well, Peabody?"

"Well, Emerson?"

"I am awaiting your remarks concerning our new servant. I am surprised you have not expressed your opinion before this."

"Why, really, Emerson, I consider this an excellent idea. I would have suggested it myself had you not antic.i.p.ated me."

"Oh, indeed," said Emerson.

"We have an obligation," I continued, "to a.s.sist unfortunate fellow creatures, particularly those of our own nation. I don't doubt that the young man has met some crushing disappointment-in love, most probably- which has reduced him to his present plight. I hope you will not think me boastful if I a.s.sert that my advice and experience have often proved beneficial in such cases."

"Bah," said Emerson. "My motives are less altruistic, Amelia; I simply want someone to watch over Ramses while we are-while we are otherwise occupied. I know full well the futility of asking you not to attempt to reform the young man's habits, but I beg you will not irritate him to such an extent that he quits our service. That is all I have to say on the subject, and there is no need for you to comment. Well, Ramses, you are unusually silent; what do you think?"

Ramses cleared his throat. "Thank you, Papa. I was waiting for someone to ask my opinion, for after all I am the one most immediately concerned. Aside from the fact that I do not feel myself in need of a nursemaid of either s.e.x-"

"You were certainly in need of someone or something tonight," I said critically. "How could you be so careless as to allow yourself to be abducted practically under our noses?"

Ramses opened his mouth to reply; Emerson, who knew his son's tendency toward unnecessary loquacity as well as I did, replied for him. "From what I have been able to ascertain, from Ramses himself and from Abu, the thing was rather neatly done. It was not the guides originally a.s.signed to Ramses who carried him off. Abu questioned these fellows after I reported that Ramses was missing, and they told him they had been dismissed by an American gentleman who said he was a member of our party. An extravagant amount of baksheesh removed any doubts they may have had, nor would they be inclined to question the command of an effendi."

"But that is an astonishing development, Emerson," I exclaimed. "I had a.s.sumed this was a simple, vulgar attempt at extracting money, or possibly a trick of Kalenischeff's, to render us impotent while he carries out the nefarious scheme in which he is presently engaged- whatever that may be."

"Neither is likely, Peabody. Kalenischeff knows better than to interfere with me."

His white teeth closed on the last word as if he were biting into Kalenischeff's jugular, and I was forced to admit that his reasoning was convincing.

"Then who could it have been? Who would have designs on Ramses, or on ... Good Gad, Emerson!"

Emerson raised his hand. "Please, Peabody. Don't say it."

"Who else could it have been?" I cried. "Who else but that genius of crime, the Master Criminal?''

I see no sense in repeating the conversation that ensued. Emerson's remarks were incoherent in the extreme, and he never allowed me to complete a sentence. I presume Ramses attempted to interject his opinions, since he usually did, but he made no headway. Emerson was still fuming when the carriage drew up before the hotel, and I abandoned the discussion, since it would have been vulgar to go on shouting at one another as we pa.s.sed through the lobby.

The safragi on duty in the corridor outside our rooms informed us that a number of parcels had been delivered during our absence. Emerson nodded and flipped the fellow a coin. "It will be the merchandise I ordered this afternoon," he said. "At least one thing has gone right today."

The parcels were stacked in a corner. Atop the pile sat the cat Bastet, straight and alert, as if on guard. In fact, she was useful to us in that capacity, since the hotel servants were decidedly in awe of her. Her resemblance to the hunting cats depicted in ancient tomb paintings and her doglike devotion to her young master had convinced the superst.i.tious fellows that she was not an ordinary feline.

She and Ramses greeted one another affectionately, but when he offered her the sc.r.a.ps of chicken he had brought, she refused the treat, politely but decidedly.

"Curious," said Ramses. "Very curious."

I was forced to agree. Ordinarily the cat Bastet was pa.s.sionately fond of chicken. "Could there be something wrong with the food?" I asked uneasily. "Poisoned, or drugged?"

"If there had been anything wrong with it, we would all be writhing in agony or comatose by now," snarled Emerson. "I have had enough melodrama tonight; I can endure no more. Ramses, go to bed. Amelia-"

"Yes, Ramses should retire at once, since we must make an early departure. In view of what happened this evening, Ramses, you had better leave your door open."

Emerson turned a reproachful look on me. "My dear Peabody," he began.

"I see no help for it, Emerson."

"Bah," said Emerson. "Yes, very well. You should sleep soundly tonight, Ramses, after your adventures. Very soundly. If you should waken and hear-er-hear anything at all, pay no attention."

"Anything, Papa?"

"Anything, my boy. Er-Papa will attend to it, whatever it is."

"Yes, Papa. But if I were to hear you or Mama cry out for help-"

This innocent question made Emerson blush like a schoolboy. I was amused but not inclined to intervene; as the Scripture so eloquently puts it, he had dug a pit into the midst whereof he had fallen; and it was up to him to climb out of it.

"Papa will explain," I said. "I must just step out for a moment. There is a matter I must attend to."

The flush on Emerson's bronzed cheeks turned from the scarlet of embarra.s.sment to the crimson of rising suspicion. "What matter?" he demanded.

"I will be back shortly."

"Peabody, I absolutely forbid..." My expression warned Emerson of the error of this approach. "I request request that you refrain from interfering in matters that are none of your concern. The hour is late. You cannot wake people up in the middle of the night to lecture them about their personal affairs." that you refrain from interfering in matters that are none of your concern. The hour is late. You cannot wake people up in the middle of the night to lecture them about their personal affairs."

"I had intended to speak to Miss Debenham on the morrow, Emerson. It was your decision to leave Cairo at once-made, I might add, without the courtesy of consulting me-that forced this expedient upon me."

I slipped out before he could reply.

The safragi outside Miss Debenham's suite informed me that she had not yet returned, so I went downstairs to search for her in the lobby and on the terrace. It was not so late as I had supposed; our evening had been so fraught with interesting incidents that it seemed to have lasted longer than was actually the case. The terrace was crowded with guests sipping refreshments and watching the jugglers and snake charmers performing on the street, but Miss Debenham was not among them. I thought I saw a flutter of saffron cloth among the entertainers, but when I looked over the rail, there was no sign of the renegade Englishman. I concluded that my eyes had deceived me. Saffron turbans, though uncommon, were not unique to that individual. me that she had not yet returned, so I went downstairs to search for her in the lobby and on the terrace. It was not so late as I had supposed; our evening had been so fraught with interesting incidents that it seemed to have lasted longer than was actually the case. The terrace was crowded with guests sipping refreshments and watching the jugglers and snake charmers performing on the street, but Miss Debenham was not among them. I thought I saw a flutter of saffron cloth among the entertainers, but when I looked over the rail, there was no sign of the renegade Englishman. I concluded that my eyes had deceived me. Saffron turbans, though uncommon, were not unique to that individual.

It was with a sense of deep frustration that I finally decided to abandon my quest for the time being. There was no way of knowing when the pair would return, or if indeed they would return that night. Kalenischeff had once told me in the course of that rude encounter I mentioned earlier, that he had a pied-a-terre in Cairo. He might have taken the girl there.

This thought made me all the more determined to warn Miss Debenham of the moral and spiritual dangers that threatened her. I was equally determined to have a quiet talk with Kalenischeff. I felt certain that the proper mixture of persuasion and intimidation would convince him to confide in me, and the events of the evening made it imperative that I learn all I could about the mysterious individual who was Kalenischeff's employer. I had left Egypt the previous year with the firm determination of bringing this miscreant to justice. His attempt to abduct Ramses proved beyond a doubt that he was equally determined to revenge himself on me and my family. It was no longer only a question of justice; it was a question of self-defense. Why Emerson failed to see this I could not imagine.

I proceeded to the writing room, where I inscribed two letters. The first, to Kalenischeff, was brief. I merely requested the pleasure of an interview at the earliest possible moment, adding that it would be useless for him to deny my request since I was determined to see him. The letter to Miss Debenham took longer, since I had to identify myself and list my qualifications for presuming to address her. I added a brief account of Kalenischeff's unsavory history, a.s.sured Miss Debenham of my (and Emerson's) willingness to a.s.sist her, and ended with a powerful and moving appeal to reconsider her actions and halt her downward progress on the path that could only lead to shame and sorrow.

After leaving the letters with the safragis, I sought my own room with a satisfying sense of duty done. I had accomplished all I could; I could accomplish no more. Not at the moment, at any rate.

Emerson had left a night light burning. It had become a habit of ours, since we were so frequently disturbed by burglars and a.s.sa.s.sins. He was in bed. The artificial evenness of his breathing indicated that he was awake, though pretending not to be. He did not move or speak even when I joined him in the connubial bed, so I concluded I was in disfavor. Just as well, I thought. Ramses would be on the alert for the slightest sound from our room.

If Miss Debenham did return to the hotel and read my letter, she would undoubtedly attempt to speak to me in the morning. I had informed her of the hour of our departure. The opportunity of reasoning with her was not lost, only postponed, and as sleep brushed me with her shadowy wings I promised myself the satisfaction of a useful interview the following morning.

Alas, it was not to be. We were awakened at dawn by the shrieks of the hotel servants. The safragi had discovered the body of Kalenischeff lying on Miss Debenham's bed in a welter of b.l.o.o.d.y sheets. He had been stabbed to the heart; Miss Debenham had vanished from the room, and from the hotel. discovered the body of Kalenischeff lying on Miss Debenham's bed in a welter of b.l.o.o.d.y sheets. He had been stabbed to the heart; Miss Debenham had vanished from the room, and from the hotel.

Three.

The sun was approaching the zenith before we boarded the train that was to take us to Dahshoor. Emerson was muttering like a volcano in danger of eruption, but, as I had been careful to point out, he could hardly blame me for the tardiness of our departure. All the guests had been delayed by the uproar, and we were among many whom the police had interviewed.

"You need not have volunteered to be interviewed," Emerson insisted. "To question the guests was a waste of time, since the murderer undoubtedly left the hotel long before the body was discovered."

"If you mean Miss Debenham, Emerson, she did not commit the crime. I felt it my duty to explain that to the police officer in charge."

"She has disappeared, Peabody. If she is innocent, why did she flee?"

"Emerson, how can you be so dense? She did not flee, she was abducted by the same person or persons who murdered Kalenischeff." flee, she was abducted by the same person or persons who murdered Kalenischeff."

Emerson settled himself more comfortably on the cracked leather seat of the carriage. The pyramids were visible on the right, but for once Emerson was not distracted by archaeological objects. He pretends to resent the interruptions of a criminal nature that have so often marked our excavations, but wifely intuition a.s.sures me that he is as keen on the scent as any sleuth. This was the first opportunity we had had to discuss the murder; I could tell by the gleam in his bright blue eyes that he was as interested as I.

"If your theory is correct, Peabody, it means that Kalenischeff was slain in an attempt to defend his inamorata. The heroic role is not one I would have expected from him."

"It is a difficulty," I admitted. "Whatever else he may have been, Kalenischeff was no hero."

"But he may have been a member of a conspiracy directed against the lady," said Ramses, from his window seat next to Emerson. "a.s.suming for the sake of argument that the object of that conspiracy was the extraction of money by one means or another, Kalenischeff may have decided to betray his confederates by marrying the lady instead of a.s.sisting in the original scheme. He would gain sole control of her fortune by that means instead of-"

"I was about to propose that theory, Ramses," I said severely. "Look out the window. There is the Step Pyramid of Sakkara."