“No.” Asad twisted his thin, ink-stained hands. “We thought—the Turk? Don’t be angry. We searched for him, and for you. And we brought the guns back. They are—”

“I know. Have you heard anything about the next delivery?”

“Yes.” Asad nodded vigorously. “Farouk has been at Aslimi’s shop—”

“I know. Whose brilliant idea was that?”

Asad looked guilty, but then he always did. The nom de guerre he had chosen meant “lion.” It couldn’t have been more inappropriate.

“Someone had to!” he quavered. “Aslimi has taken to his bed. It is his stomach. He has—”

“Pains after he eats,” Ramses interrupted. “I know that too. Someone had to take his place, I grant you that. Why Farouk?”

“Why not?” Farouk demanded. “I know the business, the—”

“Be quiet. When is the delivery?”

“It is for a week from tomorrow—the same time—the ruined mosque south of the cemetery where Burckhardt’s tomb is.”

“I’ll be there. And, Farouk—”

“Yes, sir?”

“Initiative is an admirable quality, but don’t carry it too far.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think you know what I mean. Don’t be tempted to make your own arrangements with our temporary allies. They are using us for their own purpose, and that purpose is not ours. Do you suppose the Ottoman Empire would tolerate an independent Egypt ?”

“But they promised,” Bashir began.

“They lied,” Ramses said curtly. “They always lie. If the Turks win, we will only exchange one set of rulers for another. If the British win, they will suppress a revolt without mercy, and most of us will die. Our best and only hope of achieving our goal is to use one side against the other. I know how to play that game. You don’t. Have I made myself clear?”

Nods and murmurs of agreement indicated that he had convinced them. Not even Farouk had the courage to ask him to elaborate. Ramses decided he had better go before someone did ask; he hadn’t the faintest idea what he was talking about.

“You are leaving us?” Farouk scrambled to his feet. “Let us go with you, to make sure you are safe. You are our leader, we must protect you.”

“From whom?” He smiled at the beautiful face that was gazing soulfully at him. The dark-fringed eyes fell, and Ramses said gently, “Do not follow me, Farouk. You aren’t very good at that either.”

He was in no mood for gymnastics that night, so he hoped the unsubtle hint would have the desired effect. The others would be suspicious of Farouk now—and serve him right, the little swine—but he made certain there was no one on his trail before he approached the tram station. Trains were infrequent at this hour, but he wasn’t in the mood for a ten-mile hike either. Squatting on a hard bench in the odorous confines of a third-class carriage, he again considered alternate methods of transportation and again dismissed them. The motorbicycles made too much noise, and Risha was too conspicuous.

It took him almost an hour to reach Maadi. He approached the house from the back. It was unlighted, as were all the others in that huddle of lower-class dwellings—the remains of the old village, now surrounded and in part supplanted by elegant new villas. There were few streetlights even in the new section, and this area was pitch-black. He wouldn’t have seen the motionless form, only slightly darker than the wall against which it stood, if he had not been looking for it.

David grasped his outstretched hand and then motioned toward the open window. “How did it go?”

“No trouble. I hope you didn’t wait up for me last night.”

They spoke in the low voices that were less carrying than whispers. Once they were inside the room, David said, “I was watching for you, but I didn’t really suppose you’d be able to get away from Aunt Amelia. Was Farouk there tonight?”

“Mmmm. Innocent as a cherub and sticking to his story. The next delivery is Tuesday, the old mosque near Burckhardt’s tomb. David, it has occurred to me, somewhat belatedly, that you had better find new quarters. If Father knows about this place, it may be known to others.”

“A man came here yesterday. A stranger.”

“Damnation! What did he look like?”

“I wasn’t here. Mahira couldn’t give me much of a description; the poor old girl is as blind as a mole and getting more senile by the day.”

“That settles it. We’re leaving now, tonight. You ought to have vacated the premises as soon as you heard.”

“You wouldn’t have known where I was.”

“And you wanted to make certain there was no one lying in wait for me when I came? David, please do me the favor of trying not to get yourself killed on my account. I’ve enough on my conscience as it is.”

“I’m doing my best.” David put a hand on Ramses’s shoulder. “Where shall I go?”

“I’ll leave that to you. Some safe, flea-ridden hovel in Old Cairo or Boulaq, I suppose. God, I hate doing this to you.”

“Not as much as I hate doing it.” David had gathered his scanty possessions and was tying them into a bundle. “You know what I miss most? A proper bath. I dream of lying in that tub of Aunt Amelia’s, with hot water up to my chin.”

“Not the food? Mother wanted me to bring you a parcel of leftover turkey and plum pudding.”

“ Fatima ’s plum pudding?” David sighed wistfully. “Couldn’t you have secreted a small slice under your shirt?”

“Yes, right. I’d have had rather a time explaining that, if it had tumbled onto the floor while I was kicking Farouk’s feet out from under him.”

David stopped halfway out the window and turned to stare at him. “I thought you said nothing happened.”

“Nothing of importance. Go on, I’m getting edgy.”

David took him across the river in the small boat they had acquired for that purpose. On the way Ramses explained what had happened with Farouk.

“Reasonable behavior, I suppose,” David admitted, pulling at the oars. “They must have been rather worried.”

“Yes. Farouk is the only one of the lot who has any fighting instincts. Poor old Asad was petrified. I hope I can get him out of this and talk some sense into him. He’s a braver man than Farouk. He’s afraid all the time, and yet he sticks.”

And you’re a braver man than I am, Ramses thought, watching his friend bend and straighten with the oars. If I had a wife who adored me and a child on the way, I wouldn’t have risked myself in a stunt like this one.

For a few seconds the soft splash of water was the only thing that broke the silence. Then Ramses said thoughtfully, “Farouk made one little slip tonight. He claimed the man who fired first used a rifle. But the first shot wasn’t from a rifle, it was from a pistol, like the ones that followed, and if Farouk was aiming at someone other than me, he was a damned poor shot. It’s not absolute proof, but I think we had better gather Farouk into the loving arms of the law. I’ll try to arrange a meeting with Russell. I know we aren’t supposed to be seen together, but we’ll have to risk it.”

“Why?” David demanded. “Can’t you tell me what you’ve got in mind and let me pass it on?”

“It’s just as risky for you to meet with him as it is for me,” Ramses said. “I’ll tell you, though, in case I can’t reach Russell, or in case… This is a perfect opportunity to get Farouk out of the way without involving me. If the police raided Aslimi’s shop, I wouldn’t have much trouble convincing my associates that Aslimi had finally cracked and confessed.”

“Aslimi had better be put in protective custody, then.”

“That’s part of the plan, yes.” Ramses laughed softly. “He’ll probably be relieved as hell. When I see the Turk Tuesday, we will arrange an alternative drop.”

The current carried them downstream, so that he was not far from Giza when they landed. They sat in silence for a time. It was a beautiful night, with a small crescent moon hanging in the net of stars, and good-byes were difficult when there was always a chance they would not meet again. “Just in case” was a phrase both of them had learned to hate.