Emerson removed his arm and leaned forward, reaching for his pipe. "The incident at Meidum had certain interesting features."

At first I could not think what he meant. Then I laughed "That foolish young German shooting at a gazelle? I told you, Emerson, the bullet came nowhere near me. Consider, as well, that only a madman would try to murder me in broad daylight with witnesses all around Success would have been tantamount to suicide for the killer, that hasty temper of yours would have moved you to exact retribution on the spot. Oh, it is too absurd."

"I am rather inclined to regard the young man as a guardian angel," Emerson said slowly. "What became of the workman who promised you an unknown tomb, Peabody? We never saw him again."

"He was frightened."

"Bah. It seems to be you, my dear, these unknown individuals are after."

"The three men who attacked you in the garden- "

"I told you, they were uncommonly gentle," Emerson said impatiently "That attack may have been designed to make sure I was out of the way when my double made off with you. There must be some underlying motive for all these events, and I can't think of anything we have done recently to inspire the interest of the criminal element- except find w.i.l.l.y Forth's lost city of gold."

"Surely you are jumping to unwarranted conclusions, Emerson. You or I might be able to weave together vague hints and scattered clues, and arrive at the correct conclusion: that Willoughby Forth's fantasies were true, and that we had located his treasure h.o.a.rd. But who else is capable of such brilliant reasoning?"

Slowly Emerson's head turned, exactly as Bastet's head turns when she is planning to jump on some unconscious victim. He looked straight into my eyes.

"No, Emerson," I exclaimed. "It cannot be. We have not seen or heard from him for years."

"Only a man," said Emerson, "who has far-flung sources of information covering the world- like a spider's web, I believe you once said, who is familiar with the world of archaeology, its pract.i.tioners, its history and its legends, who has good cause to hate one of us and even better cause to- "

"My abductor was not the Master Criminal, Emerson. I could hardly be mistaken, after all, I was in intimate if unwilling proximity to the fellow for quite some time."*

It was not, I admit, the most tactful thing I could have said. Emerson's response consisted of a string of expletives, including several that were unfamiliar to me. It took me considerable time and effort to calm him. My efforts succeeded so well that I was forced to remind him, after an interval, that the windows were uncurtained and that the servants had not gone to bed.

"Let us set them an example, then," said Emerson, drawing me to my feet. As we proceeded up the stairs he said thoughtfully, "Perhaps you are right, Peabody. I am still inclined to see the dread hand- another of your literary phrases, is it not?- the dread hand of Sethos everywhere. I may be mistaken as to the ident.i.ty of our opponent, but my theory as to the motive behind these attentions is unshaken. It would take an archaeologist or a keen student of archaeology to put those clues together."

"I am sure it was not Mr. Budge who tried carry me off, Emerson."

My little joke had the desired effect. With a smile, Emerson led me into our room and closed the door.

For the next three days we worked in the West Valley. They were halcyon days, nothing disturbed the peaceful productivity of our work except an occasional archaeological visitor who had heard of our presence and- as Emerson put it- came to find out what we were up to, and the cat Anubis, who seemed intent on driving Abullah to felinocide. I endeavored to comfort our afflicted foreman.

"He likes you, Abdullah. It is quite a compliment. The cat Bastet .never paid you such attentions."

Rubbing his head- which had come into painful contact with a rock when the cat had suddenly jumped onto his shoulder- Abdullah remained unconvinced. "She is not an ordinary cat, as we all know, does not she speak with the young master, and heed his commands? This one is a servant of evil, as the cat Bastet is a servant of good. Its very name is a bad omen, was not Anubis the G.o.d of cemeteries?"

Emerson's vigilance gradually relaxed as the days pa.s.sed without any alarming incident. For all its isolation, the West Valley was safer than any city. No one could approach without being observed long before he came close to us.

At the end of the third day Emerson announced that we had almost completed the task for which we had come. We had corrected numerous errors in the existing plan of the Valley and located several promising sites that warranted further investigation- including one that offered a suitable hiding place for the scepters Abdullah was pleased to learn we were nearly finished. Mapmaking was not a favorite activity of Abdullah's. Like his master, he preferred to dig.

"How much longer?" he asked, as we started back.

"A week at the outside," Emerson replied. Glancing at me, he added provocatively, "Vandergelt Effendi is coming soon. I want to be out of his house before he arrives."

We had received a telegram from Cyrus the day before, announcing his imminent arrival in Cairo and saying that he looked forward to seeing us shortly.

"Perhaps," said Abdullah hopefully, "the cat will stay here with the Effendi."

"That is a difficulty," Emerson agreed. "We will be camping out at Amarna, we cannot be bothered feeding and caring for him."

A rattle of rock and a pathetically abbreviated squeak nearby preceded the appearance of Anubis, with a limp brown shape in his mouth. "You needn't worry about feeding him," I said.

Abdullah said something under his breath. Daoud, a big silent man, whose placidity was seldom ruffled, glanced uneasily at the cat, his fingers twitched in a ritual gesture designed to ward off evil.

The cat disappeared with its prey and we went on in silence for a time. Then Abdullah said, "There is a fantasia tonight at the house of the brother of my father. It is in honor of my visit to the home of my ancestors, but it would be a greater honor if the Father of Curses and you, Sitt Hakim, would come."

"It would honor us," Emerson replied, as courtesy demanded "What do you say, Peabody?"

The idea appealed to me. I was anxious to meet Abdullah's uncle, who had a certain reputation in the Luxor area, born and raised in Gurnah, the notorious village of hereditary tomb robbers on the west bank, he had acquired, by means no one cared to investigate, wealth enough to purchase a fine house on the east bank outside Luxor Family pride would require him to hire the finest entertainers for his fantasia.

The entertainment at these celebrations consists primarily of music and dancing. In the beginning I had found Egyptian music painful to my ears, the singers' voices slide up and down a rather limited scale, and the musical instruments are primitive by Western standards. As with most art forms, however, prolonged exposure increases appreciation. I could now listen with relative enjoyment to the nasal singing and the accompaniment of flute and zither, tambourine and zemr (a form of oboe). The insistent rhythm of the drums (of which there were many varieties) had a particularly interesting effect.

I accepted the invitation with proper expressions of grat.i.tude. Taking Emerson's arm, I let the others draw ahead before I said in a low voice, "Have you canceled your interdict against evening activities, then? Nothing has occurred since we arrived in Luxor- "

"I have made certain it would not," Emerson replied haughtily. "However, this is not the sort of evening activity I was concerned about. I defy the boldest of abductors to s.n.a.t.c.h you away when you have three such defenders." Seeing my expression- for he knows how I dislike being regarded as a helpless female- he added, "We might have dinner at the hotel and drop in on the performance later. Carter is in Luxor, I would like to have a chat with him, and prepare him for the great discovery we are about to make."

So it was arranged. We sent a message across to Howard inviting him to dine with us at the Luxor Hotel, and as the sun was setting we stepped on board the felucca that would take us across the river. Abdullah and Daoud looked like emirs in their best robes and most enormous turbans, the former's long white beard had been laundered till it shone like snow. It was inc.u.mbent on us to put on an equally impressive show,- Emerson accepted the necessity of this, though he remarked grumpily, as I was trying his cravat, that he felt like a little boy being taken to visit wealthy G.o.dparents.

The gangplank, which served as an oar in times of diminished wind, had been pulled in and we were gliding away from the quay when a long sinuous form leapt into the boat. In the gathering dusk it was difficult to make out immediately what it was, Emerson let out an oath and tried to push me down onto the filthy bottom of the boat, and Abdullah would have toppled off the seat if Daoud had not caught him. I resisted Emerson's efforts, for I had of course immediately identified the latest pa.s.senger.

"It is only the cat," I said loudly. "Abdullah, for pity's sake, stop thrashing around. You will muss your beautiful robe."

Abdullah had never cursed in my presence. He did not do so now, but he sounded as if he were strangling on repressed epithets.

"d.a.m.nation," said Emerson. "What a nuisance. I refuse to take a cat to dine at the Luxor, Amelia."

"Throw it overboard," Abdullah offered.

I ignored this suggestion, as Abdullah no doubt expected I would. "We haven't time to take it back to the house. Perhaps the boatman has a bit of rope we can use as a lead."

"I don't approve of dragging cats around on a lead as one does a dog," Emerson declared firmly. "They are independent creatures who do not deserve such treatment." The cat walked along the bench, balancing like an acrobat, and settled down next to him. "Such a fuss over a cat," Emerson grumbled, scratching Anubis under his chin. "If he wanders away, he will simply have to fend for himself."

Emerson and I often attract considerable attention when we appear in public. I hope I may not be accused of vanity when I say that on this occasion it was no wonder all eyes were drawn to us as, arm in arm, we swept into the dining salon of the hotel. Emerson's splendid height and ruggedly handsome features were set off by the stark black-and-white of his evening dress, and he walked like a king. I fancied I looked rather well myself. However, I suspected that some of the wide-eyed stares focused on us- and the smothered laughter that rippled through the room- were occasioned by something other than admiration. Anubis had refused to stay in the cloakroom. He stalked along behind us with a dignity equal to Emerson's- tail erect, eyes straight ahead. His expression also bore a striking resemblance to that of Emerson. The phrase "well-bred sneer" comes to mind.

He was better behaved than some of the guests. A party of young male persons (they did not merit the name of "gentlemen") at a nearby table had clearly taken too much to drink. One of them leaned so far out of his chair to watch the cat that he fell to the floor. His companions were more amused than embarra.s.sed by this performance, with cheers and comments in the accents of brash young America, they hauled him upright and restored him to his place. "Attaboy, Fred," said one of them. "Show these folks how a sport takes a falls"

Howard arrived in time to see the end of this performance. "Perhaps Mrs. Emerson would like to move to another table," he suggested, eyeing the raucous party askance.

"Mrs. Emerson is not to be disturbed on account of rowdies," said Emerson, beckoning the waiter. He addressed this individual in tones loud enough to be heard throughout the dining salon. "Kindly inform the manager that if he does not remove the people over there at once, I will remove them myself."

The young men were duly removed. "There, you see," said Emerson, smiling at Howard in a kindly fashion. "That is the way to deal with such things."

We had to explain Anubis, who made his presence known to Carter by sniffing loudly at his trouser leg.

I suppose the sound and the accompanying sensation must have been a trifle startling to one who was unaware that there was a cat under the table. Once the situation was made clear, Howard laughed and shook his head. I should have learned not to be surprised at anything you and the professor do, Mrs. Emerson. It is like you to take charge of poor Vincey's pet He is fanatically attached to it, and it does not get on with most people."