Free Guardian of the Horizon by Elizabeth Peters Page A

to Ramses. "So much for making an inconspicuous entry," he remarked. "Half the population of Cairo already knows we are here, and the rest will know by evening." This caught Daoud's attention. "The presence of the Father of Curses is like the sun rising over the desert," he announced. "Even a blind man feels the warmth of his presence." "Bah," said Emerson. We went to the docks at Boulaq, where the Amelia lay among others of her kind--not as many as in past years, alas, for the private dahabeeyah was no longer the favored method of travel. Cooks' steamers and the railroad had made tourism a popular business. In my opinion the change was not for the better. What had once been a leisurely, educational trip through the most fascinating country in the world had become a whirlwind tour with no time to inspect the sights and very little contact with the local population. Cooks' people went about in flocks like silly sheep, bleating and herded by their guides. They ate English food, lived in rooms furnished in English style, spoke only English, complained constantly, and bargained mercilessly with individuals whose daily income was a few pennies. I must confess I rather enjoyed seeing such a group set upon by the importunate peddlers and vendors and donkey boys. Fatima was waiting for us. There were rose petals in the washbasins. After a week in Cairo we had completed most of our necessary business and there had been no word from Merasen. "Where can the boy have got to?" I demanded, as we prepared for a little shopping trip. I needed a new parasol, and Emerson another pair of boots. "I hope nothing untoward has befallen him. I told you we ought to have sent him to lodge with one of your acquaintances in Cairo." "No, you didn't," Emerson snarled. He was not of the opinionthat he required another pair of boots. "The fewer contacts with our acquaintances, the better, you said." He was correct. I had said that. "You did tell him to leave a message for us here, announcing his safe arrival in Cairo?" "I told him to leave word at Shepheard's, since I had anticipated we would be staying there. As you know, they informed me there had been no such message and that they would send on any that might arrive." "Are you sure he understood?" Nefret asked anxiously. She and Ramses were not going with us. She had met a most interesting lady, a Syrian physician, and had hopes of persuading her to participate in a scheme dear to Nefret's tender heart--a clinic which would offer medical services to the miserable prostitutes of Cairo. Gazing into the mirror, she tipped her hat to one side, frowned, and tipped it to the other side. "We don't really need him." Ramses was sprawled on the sofa. "We have the map. Maps, rather. It was a good idea of yours, Mother, that each of us should carry a copy." "Good heavens, you aren't proposing we abandon Merasen, are you?" Nefret demanded. "He may be ill--injured--lost." "He can't find his way back without us," Emerson said, his brow furrowing. "Striking the Nile without a map is one thing; finding a single isolated spot in the middle of the desert . . ." "He will turn up," I said firmly. "A message might easily have been mislaid. If we do not hear from him by the time we reach Haifa, I will--er--take steps." In fact I was at something of a loss as to how to proceed without involving the police or Emerson's network of Egyptian gossips. Nefret turned from the mirror. "Ramses, if you are coming with me, kindly assume proper attire. I want to make a good impression." "You are impressive enough already; you don't need me decked out in a stiff collar and tie," Ramses retorted. "Please?" She knelt by him and looked up into his face, dimpling and fluttering her lashes. "Practicing, are you?" Ramses inquired. "Oh, all right. Be back in a minute." When he returned he was wearing a new tweed suit I had forced him to purchase in England, a collar that reached clear to his chin, and a nice straw boater. "Will this do?" he