“It would be wiser not to, I believe. The feelings of young persons are notoriously changeable. She is angry with him now, but if she believed he was in danger -”
“Yes, Mother, that is precisely what I had in mind.”
When we returned to the saloon Nefret looked up from the paper on which she was drawing. “Esin wanted to know about the latest fashions,” she explained. “How is Mustafa’s sore… whatever?”
“His toe,” I replied. “A slight infection. Where is Emerson?”
“He said he was going to sit with Sethos.” She chuckled. “I think he’s looking for tobacco. He’s run out.”
Emerson did not find any tobacco. He came back looking even more perturbed than deprivation of that unhealthy substance could explain.
“Is he still sleeping?” I asked.
“Yes. He – er – doesn’t look well.”
“He isn’t well.”
“Is someone sick?” Esin asked.
I realized she was unaware of the latest arrival. “A – er – friend of ours. You know him as Ismail Pasha.”
“He is here?” She jumped up and clapped her hands to her cheeks. “Why? Did my father send him? Has he come to take me back?”
“Goodness, but you have a one-track mind,” I said. “He is a fugitive too. Your father became suspicious of him and he ran away.”
“Oh.” She thought it over and her face brightened. “Then I must thank him. He risked himself for me!”
“He is, after all, a gallant Englishman,” Ramses drawled. “Much braver and more chivalrous than I.”
“But you are younger and more beautiful,” said Esin.
That took care of Ramses. He said no more.
The rest of us kept up a desultory conversation and the minutes dragged slowly by. There was much we could not say in Esin’s presence, and I couldn’t think of a reasonable excuse for getting rid of her. Sending her off to bed wouldn’t work; she had slept most of the day.
Except for Selim, the rest of us had not. I persuaded Nefret to lie down and took Esin off into a corner so our voices would not disturb her. We found a common interest in women’s rights, and I told her all about the suffrage movement and how I had marched with the suffragists and been seized by a large constable. She declared that she would have done the same, and kicked the constable as well.
Emerson sat in brooding silence, smoking Ramses’s cigarettes and slipping out of the room periodically to look in on his brother. Ramses brooded too, over Nefret, sitting quietly beside her with his eyes fixed on her face. After a while I took Esin with me to the kitchen and showed her how to make tea. It was the first time she had ever performed such a menial chore, I believe. She was certainly clumsy enough. However, we got the tray upstairs without disaster.
Late in the afternoon the sun made its appearance, and shortly afterward Sethos made his. He was in a vile mood, which I had expected, and he had shaved his beard, which I had not expected. The strange gray-green eyes swept the room in a contemptuous and comprehensive survey. “Everybody here?” he inquired in his most offensive tone. “How nice.”
I knew what concerned him most and I hastened to give him the news that would relieve his mind. “We believe Sir Edward has not gone to Gaza but to Khan Yunus.”
“Oh?” He rubbed his chin. “Let us hope you are right.”
“I am certain of it,” I said. “Tea?”
“No.” He flung himself down on the divan.
“You had better have some. Take it to him, Esin.” I handed her the cup. “Lemon, no sugar, isn’t that right?”
His eyes met mine and his tight mouth turned up at this reminder of the last time we had taken tea together. Unfortunately it reminded Emerson too. He knew what had happened at that meeting, for of course I had confided fully in him. However, he confined his comments to a wordless grumble.
“Are you really Ismail Pasha?” the girl asked doubtfully. She stood beside him, the cup held carefully in both hands.
Sethos rose and took it from her. A smile transformed his haggard face, and the cultivated charm slipped onto him like a cloak. “Is it the absence of the beard that confused you? I am indeed the same man, and I am relieved to find you well and safe. My friends have looked after you?”
The charm was a little tattered, but it was good enough for Esin. “Oh, yes, but I was frightened for a while; there was fighting and we had to run away.”
“Tell me about it,” Sethos murmured.
Her account was accurate, on the whole, though she made a thrilling tale of it. Sethos listened attentively, his mobile countenance expressing admiration, astonishment, and distress at appropriate intervals, but I could tell she had not his complete attention. He was listening and waiting – as were we all.
The sunlight deepened to amber and then faded into gray, and there was still no sign of Sir Edward. Ramses lighted the lamps. I was about to suggest we do something about supper when the long-awaited sound of footsteps was heard and Sir Edward came into the room. In that first moment he had eyes only for his chief. Had I doubted the warmth of their friendship, the looks of relief on both faces would have proved it. Being English, they did not express their feelings.
“It’s good to see you, sir,” Sir Edward said coolly. “Mustafa told me you were here.”
“You ought to have been here” was the equally cool reply. “Sit down and have a cup of tea.”
“It’s cold,” I said, inspecting the sad dregs.
“I’ll take it anyhow.” Sir Edward dropped heavily onto the divan next to Emerson. “Sorry, Professor, I wasn’t able to get your whiskey. The house -”
“Then we will have to settle for claret,” said Sethos, going to the wine cabinet. “My supplies have become somewhat depleted. Amelia?”
“Yes,” I said, answering both the spoken question and the unspoken order. “Esin, I suggest you – er – go to your room and rest.”
“I don’t need to rest,” said the young person. “I am not tired.”
“Then help Selim find us something to eat.”
I gave Selim a wink and a nod. As a rule this was all Selim needed, but this time I had to give him a little poke, for he was not looking at me. His intent black eyes were fixed on Sethos.
“Your pardon, Sitt Hakim,” he said, starting.
I repeated the suggestion. He nodded obediently, and got Esin to go with him by requesting the details of her daring escape from her father’s house. “Such courage,” I heard him say, as they left the room. “Such cleverness!”
Sethos turned from the cabinet, the bottle in one hand and the corkscrew in the other. “Report,” he said curtly.
“The town’s quiet,” Sir Edward said. “Less damage than I had expected. The house is guarded by several soldiers and they’re scouring the countryside looking for you people. According to the worthy citizens of Khan Yunus, you simply vanished into thin air, like the djinn you are reputed to be. The military hasn’t accepted that, though.” He took the glass Sethos handed him and went on, “They haven’t made up their minds whether you were abducted by force or went off on your own, for purposes of your own. Either way, they want you.”
Ramses took the bottle from Sethos, who had neglected the rest of us in his concern for his aide, and poured wine for Nefret and me.
“What about Gaza?” Sethos asked.
“The place is shut up tighter than a prison.” Sir Edward sipped his wine appreciatively. “I made contact with one of our lads – Hassan. He’d just got back from an attempt to enter the city by his usual route, but what he saw made him veer off. They’re stopping everyone.”
“Shutting the barn door after the horse is stolen,” I said with a smile.
“Ha,” said Emerson, motioning Ramses to fill his glass. “Any news of Sahin Pasha?”
Sir Edward shook his head, and Sethos said, “It will take them a while to decide how to deal with him. The most sensible course of action would be to execute him and announce he’d been assassinated by the vile British.”