Free The Curse of the Pharaohs by Elizabeth Peters Page A

a piece of my mind!"
    When antiquities are visible, Emerson is blind to all else. He did not observe the toes of a pair of rather large boots protruding from under a drapery that covered one side of the room.
    "He appears to have stepped out," I replied, watching the boots. "I wonder if there is a door behind those draperies."
    The polished toes shrank until only a bare inch remained visible. I assumed Grebaut was pressed up against a wall or a closed window and could retreat no further. He is a rather stout man.
    "I have no intention of searching for the wretch," Emerson announced loudly. "I will leave him a note." He began to scrabble in the litter atop the Director's desk. Grebaut's papers and correspondence went flying.
    "Calm yourself, Emerson," I said. "Monsieur Grebaut won't thank you for making a mess of his desk."
    "I could not make it worse than it is." Emerson tossed away papers with both hands. "Just let me come face to face with that imbecile! He is totally incompetent. I intend to demand his resignation."
    "I am thankful he is not here," I said, glancing casually at the drapery. "You have such a temper, Emerson; you are really not accountable for your actions at times like this, and I would hate for you to injure the poor man."
    "I would like to injure him. I would like to break both his arms. A man who would allow such neglect—"
    "Why don't you leave a message with the secretary?" I suggested. "He must have pen and paper on his desk. You will never find it there."
    With a final gesture that sent the remaining papers sailing around the room, Emerson stamped out. The secretary had fled. Emerson seized his pen and began scribbling furiously on a sheet of paper. I stood in the open doorway, one eye on Emerson, one eye on the boots; and I said loudly, "You might suggest, Emerson, that Monsieur Grebaut send the firman giving you charge of the expedition to our hotel. That will save you another trip."
    "Good idea," Emerson grunted. "If I have to come again I will murder that moron."
    Gently I closed the door of Grebaut's office.
    We took our departure. Three hours later a messenger delivered the firman to our room.

    Four

    ON my first trip to Egypt I had traveled by dahabeeyah. The elegance and charm of that mode of travel can only be dimly imagined by those who have not experienced it. My boat had been equipped with every comfort, including a grand piano in the salon and an outdoor sitting room on the upper deck. How many blissful hours did I spend there, under the billowing sails, drinking tea and listening to the songs of the sailors while the magnificent panorama of Egyptian life glided by on either side—villages and temples, palm trees, camels, and holy hermits perched precariously on pillars. How fond were my memories of that journey, which had culminated in my betrothal to my spouse! How gladly would I have repeated that glorious experience!
    Alas, on this occasion we could not spare the time. The railroad had been extended as far south as Assiut, and since it was by far the fastest means of travel, we endured eleven hours of heat, jolting, and dust. From Assiut we took a steamer for the remaining distance. Though less uncomfortable than the train, it was a far cry from my dear dahabeeyah.
    On the day we were to dock at Luxor I was on deck at dawn, hanging over the rail and gaping like any ignorant Cook's tourist. The Luxor temple had been cleared of the shacks and huts that had so long marred its beauty; its columns and pylons glowed rosy pink in the morning light as the steamer glided in to the dock.
    Here the peaceful visions of the past were replaced by noisy modern bustle, as porters and guides converged on the disembarking passengers. The dragomen of the Luxor hotels shouted out the advantages of their various hostelries and attempted to drag bewildered tourists into the waiting carriages. No one bothered us.
    Emerson went off to collect our luggage and locate our workmen, who had traveled in the same