“You think there is a statue down there?”

“One can only hope.”

“Yes, yes,” I exclaimed. “Hurry, Nefret, get the camera.”

We arranged measuring sticks along the walls and against them, and Nefret took several exposures. I was all for continuing, but a general outcry overruled me.

“We ought to wait for Father,” Ramses said, and Nefret added, in a fair imitation of Miss Molly’s best whine, “I’m hungry!”

An explosive sigh from Selim expressed his opinion, so I gave in. Scarcely had we begun unpacking our picnic baskets when I beheld Emerson approaching.

There was something very strange about his appearance. For one thing, he was still wearing the tweed coat and trousers I had made him put on. To see Emerson in a coat at that time of day, on the dig, indicated a state of mental preoccupation so extreme as to be virtually unprecedented. Further evidence of preoccupation was provided by his blank stare and his frequent stumbles. He looked like a sleepwalker, and it appeared to me that he was in serious danger of falling into a tomb, so I shouted at him.

His eyes came back into focus. “Oh, there you are,” he said. “Lunch? Good.”

“We have found the serdab, Emerson,” I announced.

“The what? Oh.” Emerson took a sandwich. “Very good.”

Visibly alarmed, Nefret took him by the sleeve and tried to shake him. The monumental form of Emerson was not to be moved thus, but the gesture and her exclamation did succeed in getting his attention.

“Professor, didn’t you hear? A serdab! Statues! At least we hope so. Is something wrong? Did the General have bad news?”

“I cannot imagine,” said Emerson stiffly, “what makes you suppose I am not listening, or what leads you to surmise that there is bad news. A serdab. Excellent. As for the General, he was no more annoying than usual.” He put the rest of his sandwich in his mouth and chewed. I had the impression he was employing mastication to give him time to invent a story. Inspiration came; he swallowed noisily, and went on, “The damned fools are talking about a corvйe—forced-labor battalions.”

Ramses, who had not taken his eyes off his father, said, “That would be disastrous, especially at the present time.”

“And a direct violation of Maxwell’s assurance that Great Britain would not demand aid from the Egyptian people in this war,” Emerson agreed. “I hope I persuaded them to give up the idea.”

“That is all?” Nefret demanded.

“It is enough, isn’t it? An entire morning wasted on a piece of bureaucratic bombast.” Emerson pulled off his coat, tie, waistcoat, and shirt. I picked them up from the ground and collected several scattered buttons. “Back to work,” Emerson went on. “Have you taken photographs? Ramses, let me see your field notes. Peabody , get back to your rubble!”

Emerson’s exasperation at discovering he had been in error about the plan of the mastaba was so extreme I was unable to get a private word with him for some time. After further excavation had exposed the head of a statue, and Nefret was taking her photographs, I finally managed to remove Emerson to a little distance.

“What happened, curse it?” I demanded.

“What happened where?” Emerson tried to free himself from my grasp.

“You know where,” I hissed—or would have done, had that phrase contained any sibilants. “Something about Ramses? Tell me, Emerson, I can bear anything but ignorance!”

“Oh.” Emerson’s heavy brows drew apart and his eyes softened. “You are on the wrong track entirely, my dear. The situation is no worse than it was; in fact it has been made safer by the removal of that wretched man. Maxwell assured me that the police will act within a fortnight, as soon as the final shipment of arms is delivered.”

“A fortnight! Two more weeks of this?”

“Perhaps we can shorten it.”

I waited for him to go on. Instead he put his arm round me and pressed his lips to my temple, the end of my nose, and my mouth.

Yes, Professor, I thought—perhaps we can. And if you think you can distract me you are sadly in error.

However, I am not childish enough to reciprocate in kind when someone tries to deceive me. I bided my time until we stopped work for the day. The serdab contained not one but four statues, all crammed together in that confined space. They were of private individuals—the tomb owner and his family—so they were not of the same superb quality as the statue of Khafre we had found in the shaft, but they had a naive charm of their own, and all were in excellent condition. Leaving them half-buried for their own protection, we started for home, while several of our trustiest men remained on guard. Ramses also remained, ostensibly to discuss security measures with the men. He would go directly from Giza to his assignation.

In point of fact, there was no way on earth I could keep Emerson entirely in the dark concerning my plans for the evening. If he did not observe my absence and Nefret’s earlier, he would certainly do so when he discovered he was alone at the dinner table. I therefore determined to give him a (very slightly) modified account of the truth when we were alone. It is always good policy to go on the attack when one’s own position is somewhat vulnerable, so I began by asking him what he had meant by suggesting that there might be a method of ending Ramses’s masquerade earlier than Maxwell had said.

He was in the bath at the time. Let me add that my choice of location was not an attempt to undermine his confidence. Most individuals become self-conscious and uneasy when they are unclothed. This has never been one of Emerson’s weaknesses. One might even claim…

But I perceive that I am wandering off the subject. Having assumed undergarments and dressing gown, I went to the bath chamber, which is in the Turkish style. I had caused cushions to be placed round the bath itself, and I settled myself on one of these before addressing my spouse.

The pleased smile with which he had welcomed my appearance vanished. “I might have known you would not let the subject drop,” he remarked.

“Yes, you might. Well?”

Emerson reached for the soap. “As you have no doubt realized, locating the supply lines would enable us to intercept and catch the people who are bringing the weapons to Cairo . I am fairly familiar with the Eastern Desert , and I have a theory as to the most likely route. I thought I might ride out that way and have a look round.”

It was an idea that had not occurred to me. “When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Yes,” I said slowly. “Hmmm. You cannot get all the way to Suez and back in a single day.”

“I don’t plan to go all the way. It will mean an early start, though, and I may be late returning.”

“You won’t go alone?”

“Certainly not, my dear. I will take Ramses, if he chooses to come.”

“Emerson, are you going to use that entire bar of soap?”

Except for his head, the parts of him above water were white with soap bubbles. Emerson grinned. “Cleanliness is next to godliness, my dear. Here, catch.”

The bar of soap slipped through my hands, and by the time I had retrieved it and replaced it in the proper receptacle, Emerson had submerged himself and was rising from the bath.

“Now,” he said, reaching for a towel, “I have confided in you. It is your turn. You are up to something, Peabody , I can always tell. What is it?”

I explained my plan. I expected objections. What I got was a whoop of laughter.

“You think the Count is Sethos?”

“I didn’t say that. I said—”

“That he was a highly suspicious character. Most people strike you that way, but never mind. Nefret agreed to this preposterous—er—this interesting scheme?”

I did not return his smile. “Her mind is not at ease, Emerson. I know the signs, and I know Nefret. We cannot take her wholly into our confidence, but we can provide her with a safe outlet for that restless energy of hers.”