“How extraordinary. It was on this business he telegraphed you in that brusque fashion? Then what does Brace – curse it, Smith – have to do with this?”

“I don’t know, and I didn’t ask,” Ramses said. “There is something odd about this business, and until we can make sense of it, the less we say the better. It may be only a question of interservice jealousy. That has caused more trouble than the enemy.”

“How much does Murray know?” I asked.

Emerson was still muttering curses, so Ramses answered the question. “He made no reference to our relationship with Sethos. Smith may have been telling the truth there. They know I’ve met him, though, and that I have had ample opportunity to observe him. It was Cartright who convinced Murray that I was the best man to track Sethos down. They’ve had trouble getting agents into and out of Turkish territory. None of their own people can pass as an Arab, and the locals they’ve recruited are unreliable and untrained.”

Emerson had got himself under control. “They’re a bunch of bumbling incompetents,” he declared. “Sometimes it takes weeks for information about Turkish movements to reach them, via the indirect channels they employ. They got the news about Sethos fast enough, though. I suggested to Murray that he might be a prisoner instead of a traitor, and that swine Murray -”

“That was when Father tried to hit him,” said Ramses, with a grin. “Cartright got us out of Murray ’s office in a hurry.”

“I cannot believe Sethos passed on vital information willingly,” I exclaimed.

From behind a cloud of vile-smelling smoke, Emerson said, “The alternatives are almost as unpleasant, my dear.”

“Alternatives? I can only think of one.” I got up and moved to the window, where the air was not so thick. “Emerson, that pipe -”

“It calms my nerves, Peabody. However, anything to please you.” He knocked the thing out into a receptacle, sending sparks flying. “Torture is one possibility, certainly, though I don’t see how they could make a public spectacle of him if he was injured and under duress. There are other ways of forcing an individual to speak. Are you certain Margaret Minton is in France?”

“What a horrible idea!” I cried. “That the villains would use the threat of harm to the woman he loves!”

“It is a well-established technique, not only in the service but in popular fiction,” said Ramses.

“I beg, Ramses, that you will refrain from inappropriate attempts to be humorous. I will set about ascertaining Margaret’s present whereabouts as soon as is possible.”

“I beg your pardon, Mother,” Ramses said. He was still holding Nefret’s hand, running his fingers lightly over her wrist. “Such inquiries would take too long and would probably be inconclusive. There is one sure way of learning the truth. Ismail Pasha is now in Gaza. I’m going there to try and find him.”

I was conscious of a sinking feeling at the pit of my stomach. “I thoroughly disapprove, Ramses. You are too well known to the enemy. Let them find someone else.”

“I must go, Mother. I can’t leave it to someone else. You don’t understand.” He looked from me to Nefret; and on her face I saw the same dawning horror that I felt on my own.

“They ordered you to kill him,” she whispered. “Is that it?”

“That is how the Great Game is played.” Ramses’s voice was hard, his expression withdrawn. “Assassination, deception, corruption – nothing is too vile if it can be labeled patriotism. Whether he is guilty or under duress, he can give away vital information. Cartright wouldn’t tell me what that information is, but it is obviously enough to make him extremely dangerous.”

I cleared my throat. “You agreed, of course.”

Ramses came to me with his long strides and bent to kiss my cheek. It was a rare gesture for him, and I took it as the compliment he intended. “I would have done, Mother, if I had supposed they’d believe me. Murray would have; he hasn’t imagination enough to suppose anyone would dare disregard his orders, and he doesn’t know the man he wants me to assassinate is my uncle. Not that that little matter would bother him.”

“ ‘If thy hand offend thee, cut it off,’ ” I murmured.

I ought to have known better than to quote Scripture when Emerson was already in a vile humor. His heavy brows drew together, but before he could bellow, Ramses spoke again. “Cartright knows me well enough to suspect I would balk at assassination, so we arrived at a compromise. I will get a look at Ismail Pasha and ascertain whether he is Sethos, and whether he is being used by the Turks against his will.”

“Rather a tall order, that,” I remarked.

“The first part shouldn’t be difficult. He’ll be showing himself in public, as he did in Constantinople. I only hope he hasn’t altered his appearance so much I can’t recognize him.”

“And then what?” Nefret demanded.

Ramses shrugged. “One can’t plan very far ahead when there are so many unknowns in the equation. I’m not counting on anything except making a preliminary reconnaissance. Depending on what I learn, if anything, we’ll decide what to do next.”

“Can you get in and out of the city undetected?” I asked, endeavoring to conceal my concern.

“Oh, I think so. The trouble is, Cartright insisted I take someone else with me.”

“It’s safer for two than for one,” Nefret said hopefully.

“Not when one of the two is fresh out of the nursery,” Emerson growled. “Fair, young, speaks Arabic like a textbook, stammering with excitement at the prospect of playing spy…” Emerson summed it up with an emphatic “Damnation!” and went back to filling his pipe.

“He can’t be that bad,” Nefret protested.

“Ha! D’you remember Lieutenant Chetwode?”

“Oh dear,” I said. “Not that ingenuous baby-faced young man who came to Deir el Medina with Cartright?”

“Cartright claims he is his best man,” Ramses said. “He must be older and less ingenuous than he looks, since he has been in intelligence for over two years.”

“Doing what?” Nefret demanded. “Sitting behind a desk filing reports?”

“What does it matter?” Emerson said. “His assignment is not to assist Ramses but to make sure he does what he has said he will do. That bastard Cartright doesn’t trust him.”

Nefret let out an indignant expletive. I said judiciously, “He does have a nasty suspicious mind. To be sure, a sensible individual, which Ramses is not, would go into hiding for a few days and then report that he had determined that Ismail Pasha was not the man they are after. Perhaps if I were to have a little chat with General Murray -”

“No, Mother,” Ramses said, politely but emphatically. “He wouldn’t have approved the scheme if I had not agreed to take Chetwode with me. He’s a likable boy, and not as hopeless as Father makes him sound. It’ll be all right.”

“Every time you say that, something disastrous occurs,” I exclaimed.

“Now, Mother, don’t exaggerate. It doesn’t always.” He was back to normal, his smile broad and carefree, but the concern of a mother informed me he was holding something back.

“What other orders do you have?” I asked.

Emerson, who had been deep in thought, looked up. “Oh, nothing much,” he said sarcastically. “Scout the Turkish defenses, look for weak points, and while you’re at it, sound out the governor to see if he would accept a bribe.”

“Hold your fire, Mother, I’ve no intention of doing anything of the sort,” Ramses said quickly. “The chaps in charge still labor under the delusion that ‘Johnny Turk’ is a white-livered coward. You’d think they’d have learned better after Rafah and Gallipoli.”

“But the military mind is slow to accept new ideas,” I agreed. “Are they planning a direct assault on Gaza?”

“I have not been taken into their confidence,” Ramses said dryly. “I’d bribe the damned governor if I could. It would save countless lives.”

“You can’t,” Emerson said positively. “Anyhow, von Kressenstein is the one in command of the Gaza defenses. He’d have you shot if you offered him a bribe. Stick to your primary aim, my boy, and get the hell out of Gaza as soon as you can.”