Free The Mummy Case by Elizabeth Peters

would. Poisonous leaves and berries, india rubbers, ink and quantities of sweets that would have felled an ox had all passed through Ramses' digestive tract without the slightest disturbance of that region.
    Standing stiffly at attention, John asked for orders. I said, "There is nothing to do at present; why don't you go out for a bit? You have seen nothing of the city, or even the hotel."
    "I will go wit' him," said Ramses, pushing his chair back.
    "I don't know," I began.
    "What of your work, my son?" inquired Emerson. This attempt, more subtle than my own, was equally fruitless. Ramses picked up his hat and started for the door. "De manuscript appears to have belonged to a person called Didymus Thomas," he said coolly. "Dat is all I can make out at present, but I willhave anodder go at it after I have procured a Coptic dictionary. Come along, John."
    "Stay in the hotel," I said quickly. "Or on the terrace. Do not eat anything. Do not speak to the donkey boys. Do not repeat to anyone the words you learned from the donkey boys. Do not go in the kitchen, or the bathrooms, or any of the bedrooms. Stay with John. If you mean to take Bastet with you, put her on the lead. Do not let her off the lead. Do not let her chase mice, dogs, other cats or ladies' skirts."
    I paused for breath. Ramses pretended to take this for the end of the lecture. With an angelic smile he slipped out the door.
    "Hurry," I implored John. "Don't let him out of your sight."
    "You may count on me, madam," said John, squaring his shoulders. "I am ready and equal to the task. I—"
    "Hurry!" I pushed him out the door. Then I turned to Emerson. "Did I cover all the contingencies?"
    "Probably not," said my husband. He drew me into the room and closed the door.
    "There is no way of locking it," I said, after an interval.
    "Mmmm," said Emerson agreeably.
    "They will not be gone long...."
    "Then we must make the best use of the time at our disposal," said Emerson.
    I had neglected to forbid Ramses to climb the palm trees in the courtyard. He explained in an injured tone that he had only wanted to get a better look at the dates, of which he had heard; but he had not eaten a single one. In proof of this he presented me with a handful, removing them with some difficulty from the pocket of his little shirt.
    I sent him off to be bathed by John and began laying out Emerson's evening clothes. He studied them with loathing.
    "I told you, Amelia, I have no intention of wearing those garments. What torture have you planned now?"
    "I have invited guests to dine with us tonight," I said, removing my wrapper. "Help me with my dress, will you please?"
    Emerson is so easily distracted. He moved with alacrity to drop the gown over my head, and then bent his attention upon the buttons. "Who is it? Not Petrie; he never accepts invitation to dine. Sensible man__Naville? Carter? Not..." The handsfumbling along my spine stopped, and Emerson's face loomed up over my shoulder, glaring like a gargoyle. "Not de Morgan! Peabody, if you have some underhanded scheme in mind—"
    "Would I do such a thing?" De Morgan had refused the invitation, with polite regrets; he was engaged elsewhere. "No," I continued, as Emerson returned to the buttons—the frock had dozens of them, each about the size of a pea. "I was happy to learn the Istar and the Seven Hathors are in port."
    "Oh. Sayce and Wilberforce." Emerson breathed heavily on the back of my neck. "I cannot imagine what you see in those two. A dilettante clergyman and a renegade politician—"
    "They are excellent scholars. The Reverend Sayce has just been appointed to the new chair of Assyriology at Oxford."
    "Dilettantes," Emerson repeated. "Sailing up and down the Nile on their dahabeeyahs instead of working like honest men."
    A wistful sigh escaped me and Emerson, the most sensitive of men, again interrupted his labors to look inquiringly over my shoulder. "Do you miss your dahabeeyah, Peabody? If it would please you—"
    "No, no, my