“It concerned Mme-er-”

“There you go again with your confounded secrecy. No one can hear us. Mme von Eine, yes. I deduced her identity without your assistance.”

The great gate of the Holy City came into view; Camden urged the horses to a quicker pace. He was not enjoying our conversation. I had one more important point to make, however, and I proceeded to make it.

“Since your normal means of communication is still inoperative, I think it best that you should be available at all times. Be at the hotel tomorrow morning at eight. We will be proceeding to Siloam. I expect to have the house ready for occupancy within the next day or two. That will put us on the spot while Morley’s excavations are progressing and will enable us to find out what the lady is up to. Have you any questions?”

“No, ma’am,” said Mr. Camden meekly. “Yes, ma’am. I will be there.”

It was late afternoon when we entered the city, having encountered no difficulty. The few Turkish soldiers we met ignored us, and the roadblock was gone except for scattered bits of wood. We were the cynosure of all eyes when we entered the lobby; seldom had such a motley crew arrived at that sedate hostelry. We were all dusty and disheveled, but none of us approached the degree of social unacceptability of David and Ramses. My first act was to whisk them upstairs and order hot baths for them.

I must say, in all modesty, that in slightly more than an hour I had matters under control. All of us were neat and tidy; I had examined both boys, with Nefret’s assistance, and applied what remedies seemed appropriate. In my professional opinion David required only rest and nourishment to make a full recovery. Ramses refused to go to bed, though that was obviously the best place for him. It was during this argument-which I lost, as I might have expected-that David produced a small bundle of dried herbage from his bag.

“This was given us by the village healer,” he explained. “I took it for several days.”

I examined the herbage. “I have no idea what it can be,” I admitted. “Nefret?”

She crumbled a bit, smelled it, and tasted it. “Some variety of mint? I don’t like the idea of giving an unknown substance to either of you.”

“It didn’t do me any harm,” David insisted. “I think it lowered the fever.”

“And put you to sleep for hours,” Ramses said, his jaw set stubbornly. “I can’t sleep yet, I have to warn you about Mansur.”

Much as I yearned to see my afflicted child get the rest he needed, I knew he was right. None of us could afford the luxury of relaxation when there were so many things we needed to know, and without delay.

So we retired to my sitting room, where we found the others assembled and the tea I had ordered set out. Feeling the teapot, I was pleased to find it was just off the boil (I had had occasion earlier to speak to the cook about this). I tipped a teaspoon or so of the herbal mixture into a cup and filled it.

“Mother,” Ramses began.

“I will allow you to tell your tale, Ramses, if you promise that when you have finished you will take your medicine and go to bed.”

A scowl and a nod indicated reluctant agreement. I continued, “First I would like to make a few remarks.”

Ignoring the slight ripple of amusement that ran through the audience, I cleared my throat…And found, to my utter astonishment that I was unable to speak. I suppose I had not fully realized how alarmed I had been-how filled with forebodings I dared not admit even to myself-until I saw all my loved ones gathered together again: Nefret, her golden hair glowing in the lamplight; Emerson, his sapphire-blue eyes fixed on his son with an expression of benevolent affection; Selim stroking his beard and smiling; Daoud amiably contemplating the plate of sandwiches; and my two boys-for boys they will always be to me-returned against all odds from as yet unknown perils. David was too thin and Ramses’s cheeks were flushed with fever (or possibly aggravation), but they were there, safe and sound, and that was all that mattered.

They were all looking at me, waiting for me to begin. It was Emerson, as always, who understood my emotion and relieved it, in his own inimitable fashion. “If you are inclined to say a prayer, Peabody, kindly make it brief.”

I returned his smile. “‘But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret.’”

“Excellent advice,” said Emerson. “We are all waiting for our tea, Peabody. I beg you will pour and allow Ramses to get on with his story. Start from the beginning, my boy. There will be no interruptions.”

This was directed at me, of course; but indeed I had no desire to interrupt a tale that held us all spellbound. Once I had dispensed the genial beverage (I refer in this instance to tea), I took out paper and pencil and began one of my little lists. As I expected, everyone burst out talking at once when Ramses finished. Emerson’s shout rose over the rest. “Damnation! The confounded woman is a spy!”

“And a murderess, in intent if not actuality.” Ramses leaned forward and spoke with febrile intensity. “Father, you must tell MO2 about Macomber. The body may have been moved, but surely there would be evidence remaining.”

“Yes, yes, my boy,” Emerson said, watching him uneasily. “I promise it will be done. Peabody, shouldn’t he be in bed?”

The medicinal brew was a nasty greenish brown in color. Had it not been for David’s urging, I would have hesitated about administering it; but he was now completely free of fever and Ramses radiated heat like a stove. With Nefret’s help I got a few sips of the medicine into him and-after he had decidedly refused to accept our further assistance-David led him off to their room.

“Well!” I said. “We have a great deal to discuss. I have made a few notes.”

Without a word Emerson rose and got out the bottle of whiskey.

After a few refreshing sips, I continued. “The first order of business is to locate that fellow Mansur.”

“No,” said Emerson. “The first order of business is to keep my promise to Ramses. I will wire the War office at once about that unfortunate young man Macomber.”

“Most ill-advised, in my opinion, Emerson. Leave that to me, if you please.”

I ticked off one of the items on my list. Brows forming an emphatic black line across his brow, Emerson said with ominous calm, “Peabody, are you telling me you are in touch with the local agent here?”

“That is correct, Emerson. I will explain later.”

Nefret rose with quiet dignity. “Never mind, Aunt Amelia. I have suspected for some time that you and the Professor were under orders from some cursed government bureau. Frankly, I don’t give a damn about that, or about them. They were of no help whatsoever when it came to locating the boys, and I doubt they will do anything for us we cannot do better by ourselves. I suggest you all go down to dinner now. Daoud has eaten all the sandwiches. I don’t want any dinner. I am going to sit with Ramses.”

I made my peace with Nefret at midnight, when I went in to relieve her vigil, admitting (quite handsomely in my opinion) that we had been wrong to keep her in the dark. She melted at once, dear girl, as she always did, and agreed with me that we ought to wake Ramses for another dose of the medicine. He was groggy enough to offer no resistance and fell back asleep at once. So did David, who had wakened instantly when I came in.

Not long after Nefret had left, Emerson crept in. I think I have mentioned that Emerson believes he can tiptoe, but that he is mistaken. He made enough noise to rouse one of the Seven Sleepers. David sat up with a start.

“All is well, my boy,” said Emerson in a penetrating whisper. “It’s just me.”

“Good,” David mumbled. “Keep watch. Mansur…”

“Go to bed, Peabody,” said Emerson. “I will stand guard till morning.”