“And you risked that? That awful trip, the danger, the -”

She took his face between her hands. “I knew it would be all right. I can’t tell you how I knew, but I did. I would have risked it anyhow. I want this very much, but you are the dearest thing in the world to me. I let you go – I let you take the risk – but I’d have died of suspense waiting in Cairo. Oh, darling, aren’t you glad?”

“Do you suppose I don’t feel the same about you? I’m beginning to understand what you went through, all those times when I was off on some bloody damned job without you. Glad? I suppose I am. Will be. At this moment, I… I’m afraid, I think. I can’t take this risk for you. I can’t even share it.”

She had never seen tears in his eyes before. Her heart turned over. He hid his face against her and she held him, her arms tight around his bowed shoulders.

“It’s too late to change our minds now,” she murmured.

He let out a long breath and when he raised his head she saw again the boy she had loved so long without realizing how much she loved him. His eyes were bright with laughter and dawning joy. “Are you sure you’re prepared for this, Nefret? You’ve heard Mother’s stories. What if it turns out to be like me?”

The house was very quiet. I was alone, without even a cat to keep me company. Many duties awaited me, but for some reason I didn’t feel like tackling any of them. Seating myself on the sofa, I found my sewing box and took out the crumpled scrap of linen.

The sitting room door opened. One look at their faces was all I needed. Hand in hand, they came to stand before me.

“We wanted you to be the first to know, Mother,” Nefret said.

I had to clear my throat before I could speak. I got out four words before my voice failed me. “Well! Naturally, I am…”

“Oh, Mother, don’t cry.” Nefret sat down beside me and put her arms round me. “You never cry.”

“Nor will I mar the happiness of this moment by doing so,” I assured her, somewhat huskily. I held out my hand to Ramses, who seated himself on my other side, let out a yelp, and sprang up. He had sat on my embroidery.

We laughed until the tears came; they had not far to come. Returning to his seat, Ramses held up the miserable object.

“She’s going to claim she has known for weeks. What is this, Mother?”

I wiped my eyes. “A – er – a bib. Babies dribble quite a lot. These blue bits are violets, and these… It is rather nasty-looking, isn’t it? I think the bloodstains will wash out.”

“It’s the most beautiful bib I’ve ever seen,” Nefret said, wiping her eyes. “And I hope the bloodstains never wash out. You did know!”

“Not until this moment,” I said firmly. It would have been the height of unkindness to spoil such a wonderful surprise. “I was making it for Lia’s little girl.”

“Girl?” Ramses’s eyebrows tilted.

“I suppose Abdullah told you,” Nefret said with a chuckle. “Did he happen to mention ours?”

“He never tells me anything important,” I said. Nefret laughed, and I saw Ramses shape the word with his lips: “Ours.” He was still trying to take it in.

I had known, of course, for some time. To an experienced eye the symptoms are unmistakable.

“When?” I inquired.

“September,” Nefret said.

“Ah. So the worst is over, and you are obviously in splendid health. If bouncing across the desert in that motorcar and stealing horses didn’t bring on a miscarriage, nothing will.”

I spoke with all the authority I could summon, which is, if I may say so, considerable, and the faint shadow of anxiety on Ramses’s face faded. “If you say so, Mother.”

“I do. And,” I added, “next time I see Abdullah he will verify it.”

FROM MANUSCRIPT H

They told Emerson next morning. It took a while to get his attention; he and Cyrus and the others were already planning the day’s activities when they arrived at Deir el Medina. After his wife had poked him with her parasol a time or two he agreed, amiably but in some perplexity, to join them for a brief private conversation in a corner of the vestibule. They had discussed various ways of breaking the news.

“If I say we have something to tell him, he’ll look blank and ask what,” Nefret said with a chuckle. “And announcing he is about to become a grandfather is too sickeningly coy.”

So, in the end, she blurted it out. “I’m going to have a baby, Father.”

Emerson’s jaw went slack. “A… a what?”

“We don’t know yet,” Ramses said. “But we’re pretty sure it’s bound to be either a boy or a girl.”

Emerson choked. “Boy? Girl? Baby? Good – good Gad!”

“Take my handkerchief,” said his wife.

Emerson indignantly refused the handkerchief; if there were tears in his eyes he blotted them on Nefret’s hair as he took her in a close embrace. He turned to Ramses, held out his hand, and then, to the latter’s utter stupefaction, embraced him too.

He was with difficulty prevented from rushing out shouting the news at the top of his lungs to everyone present. “A little less publicly, please,” Nefret begged. “We haven’t told Fatima yet, or Kadija, or Sennia, or Gargery, or -”

“Oh, of course Gargery’s feelings are of paramount importance,” said Emerson with heavy sarcasm and a smile that stretched from ear to ear. “Naturally, my dears, I bow to your wishes. Good Gad!”

Emerson went directly to Cyrus and whispered in his ear. Within five minutes everyone on the site had heard. It was possible to watch the word spread by the smiles that warmed the men’s faces as they turned to look at Nefret.

She accepted Cyrus’s hearty good wishes and promises of a celebration to end all celebrations, and then got their minds back to business. “Did anything happen last night?”

“Good Gad,” said Emerson, still grinning. “Good Gad! Er – what did you say? Oh. Well, we saw a few shadows flitting about hither and yon, but they vanished when I announced my – our – presence.”

“You didn’t recognize any of them?” Ramses asked.

“I didn’t have to see them to know who they were,” his father retorted. “Members of our distinguished tomb-robbing families having a look round just in case.”

“They may try again,” Ramses said.

“Bah,” said Emerson. “It’s been over fifty years since the Gurnawis attacked an archaeologist.” He added, his face falling, “The greatest nuisance will be sightseers. They will be swarming as soon as the news spreads.”

In this he was correct. Following regulations, Cyrus had immediately informed the Service des Antiquités of the find. An enthusiastic telegram of congratulations from Daressy was followed in two days by a visit from that gentleman. It was his official duty to inspect the place and make sure the rules were being followed, and a find of that magnitude happened very seldom. Timber balks and a complex arrangement of scaffolding and ladders had been erected, so it was now possible to reach the tomb from below. They had to haul Daressy up by means of a net. He didn’t much enjoy the process, but as he informed them afterward, he would have undergone worse to see the astonishing spectacle.

“My felicitations,” he declared, mopping his sweating face. “For once we have got in ahead of our energetic friends from Gurneh! It is a pleasure to know I can safely leave the clearance in your capable hands, mes amis.”

He accepted a cup of tea and mopped his face again. “By the by, I meant to ask how it is that M. Vandergelt is involved. I was under the impression that he had the firman for Medinet Habu.”

“You are familiar with how it is, monsieur,” Emerson said glibly and ungrammatically. “Thanks to the bedamned war, we are all short of hands. We help one another, as professional goodness demands. It was the young M. Vandergelt who in fact discovered the hiding place.”

“Ah, je comprends bien,” said Daressy, amused. “C’est admirable, messieurs. Proceed, then. I will return from time to time, if I may, not to interfere with your work, but to admire the wonders you will find.”