“Aren’t you at all concerned about your father?” I asked.
“What will happen to him?”
“He is a prisoner of war,” Emerson said. “Do you want to see him before we leave? I can probably arrange that.”
“No.” She shivered. “He tried to take me away. He says he loves me, but he will not allow me to do what I want. Is that love?”
“Sometimes,” Nefret said.
The silence that followed was broken by a penetrating shriek from outside the house. I could not make out all the words, but there were references to the will of Allah and the blessings of various prophets, up to and including the greatest, that is, Mohammed. When Sir Edward had arrived on the scene, I did not know, but he must have seen the military go off with their prisoner. This was his farewell to us, and none of us doubted that his chief would soon be informed of the news.
Emerson smiled. “Clever beggar, isn’t he?”
Selim, who had missed all the excitement and was still brooding about it, said under his breath, “Beggar. Yes. He is a clever man. And so is -” He broke off, with a glance at me.
“We will talk about it later, Selim,” I said, as softly as he had done.
“As you say, Sitt. So – it is over?”
“Yes. It is over.”
PART THREE. The Handof the God
12
Sped on by every assistance the military could provide, we reached Cairo in less than two days. Selim left us off at Shepheard’s just in time for tea. He was to take the motorcar on to a prearranged location and leave it. What would become of it after that I did not know and did not ask; I was only happy to be rid of the thing, for I had feared Emerson – and Selim – would want to keep it. They did want to, very badly; but Emerson admitted it might be a trifle difficult to explain how we had acquired it.
The terrace was crowded, and our appearance aroused a certain amount of ill-bred attention, even from acquaintances who ought not have been surprised at anything we did. I heard Mrs. Pettigrew’s trumpeting voice address her husband: “There are the Emersons again, Hector, looking even more disreputable than usual. It is positively embarrassing to be acquainted with them.” I waved my parasol at her in a conspicuous manner.
There was some justice in her description; two days’ motoring on military roads does not improve an individual’s appearance, and our wardrobes had been deficient to start with. However, Ramses and Emerson in Arab dress, Nefret and I in sadly crumpled European attire, and Esin, enveloped in veils, as Nefret’s maidservant, occasioned no comment from the well-trained staff of Shepheard’s, and I was not surprised to learn our old rooms had been reserved for us. The luggage we had left was brought to us, so for the first time in days we were able to clean up and dress in proper clothing. There were a number of messages, most of them from Cyrus or Katherine, asking when we would return to Luxor. They had no news to report, except that Jumana was still sulking (Katherine’s word) or grieving (Cyrus’s).
“We had better take the train tomorrow night,” I said.
Emerson grunted. He had not found the message he hoped for.
“What’s your hurry, Peabody? I thought you’d want to shop and do your usual social round.”
“Replenishment of certain supplies would be expedient,” I agreed. “But I can accomplish that tomorrow. What do you say, Nefret? Do you want to spend some time at the hospital?”
Nefret was watching Ramses, who had taken up the latest issue of the Egyptian Gazette. “I may run in for an hour or so, Mother, but I would just as soon go on to Luxor at once. Ramses?”
“I am ready whenever you are” was the reply.
“Is Ramses concealing something?” Emerson asked, when he and I were alone. “I expected he would be anxious to get back to work, but he sounded almost indifferent.”
“I am pleased to find you more sensitive to your son’s feelings, Emerson. In this case I can interpret them for you.”
“Pray do,” said Emerson coldly.
“He was only exhibiting his usual consideration for the opinions of others, particularly those of Nefret. In fact I believe he would like to put this whole business behind him. You know,” I continued, sorting garments that required washing, “that when he is in the thick of the action, he rather enjoys it. He doesn’t have time to think about what he is doing. Later, when there is leisure for introspection, his overly active conscience reproaches him for employing and even enjoying violence. He is -”
“I’m sorry I asked,” Emerson snarled. “I might have known you’d start talking psychology. When are you going to deliver the girl? I’m not sure I like that part of it. How do we know those bastards won’t bully or mistreat her?”
“That is another thing that is bothering Ramses,” I said. “And do not berate me for talking psychology – you are as sentimental about the girl as he is. As for me, I shall be glad to be rid of the responsibility. You may rest assured, however, that I will not leave her until I am certain she will be treated kindly. I will take her to Ismailiya first thing tomorrow morning.”
Emerson did not accompany us. He was afraid Esin would cry and plead. I thought she might too, so I did not attempt to change his mind. I could not dissuade Ramses from coming, however. He had that stubborn set to his mouth.
Esin was wearing one of Nefret’s frocks. She was somewhat stouter than Nefret, but this dress had a loose fit and an adjustable belt. It did not become her. I had not told her what was in store for her, in part because I do not believe in anticipating trouble and in part because I wasn’t certain myself. It all depended on what, and whom, we found at that address in Ismailiya.
It looked respectable, at any rate – a house set in its own gardens, built in the European style of the previous century. Esin let Ramses help her out of the cab and looked admiringly at the house.
“It is very modern. Are we paying a visit?”
“Yes,” I said.
The door was opened by a manservant, who led us into a nicely furnished sitting room. We were expected, it seemed; he had not asked our names, and we had only been waiting a few minutes before a lady entered the room – the lady Smith had introduced as his sister.
“Mrs. Bayes!” I exclaimed. “So you are -”
“Very pleased to see you again,” the lady cut in smoothly. “Mr. Emerson, a pleasure. And this is Miss Sahin? Welcome, my dear. Did Mrs. Emerson tell you you are to stay with me for a while?”
“Am I? Must I?” She gave Ramses an imploring look. “Am I a prisoner of war too?”
“Not in the least,” Mrs. Bayes said heartily. “You are an honored guest. Come along and I will show you your room. I think you will like it. I know you came away in a hurry, so perhaps later we can shop for some new clothes. There are many fine shops in the Muski.”
“I saw them,” Esin said slowly. She looked from Mrs. Bayes, who was holding out her hand and smiling sweetly, to me – I bared my teeth, not nearly so sweetly – and then to Ramses. “I am to go with her? Will I see you again?”
He had known it would be easier for her, and for me, if he was there to reassure her. I saw him brace himself for a round of comforting clichés.
“You must have known you could not stay with us, Esin. Mrs. Bayes will take good care of you, and one day… one day… uh…”
“We will meet again? You will not forget me?”
“Never,” Ramses assured her.
“I will never forget you.” She extended her hand at an awkward angle. Resignedly, Ramses kissed it. “One never knows what the future will bring, Esin,” he said. “We will think of you often, and if you ever need our help, you have only to ask.”