laundry tubs and the looms? Of the sailors of all nations searching for the brothels?
To the great university they had wandered, to listen to the teachers under the porticoes.
Finally in a dirt square they'd stopped. From the common well Cleopatra had drunk, from the common cup on its rope.
'It tastes the same,' she had said with a playful smile.
He remembered so clearly the cup dropped down into the deep cool water. The sound echoing up the stone walls; the hammering that came from the docks, and the vision through the narrow street to his right of the masts of the ships, a leafless forest there.
'What is it you really want of me, Ramses?' she had asked.
'That you be a good and wise Queen of Egypt. I've told you.'
She'd taken his arm, forced him to look at her.
'You want more than that. You're preparing me for something much more important.'
'No,' he said, but that had been a lie, the first lie he had ever told her. The pain in him had been sharp, almost unbearable. / am lonely, my beloved. I am lonely beyond mortal endurance. But he didn't say that to her. He only stood there, knowing that he, an immortal man, could not live without her.
What had happened after that? Another evening of lovemaking, with the sea beyond turning slowly from azure to silver, and finally black beneath a heavy full moon. And all around her the gilded furnishings, the hanging lamps and the fragrance of scented oil, and somewhere in an alcove just far enough away, a young boy playing a harp and singing a mournful song of ancient Egyptian words that the boy himself did not understand, but which Ramses understood perfectly.
Memory within the memory. His palace at Thebes when he had been a mortal man, and afraid of death, and afraid of humiliation. When he had had a harem of one hundred wives to pleasure, and it had seemed a burden.
'Have you had many lovers since I left?' he had asked Cleopatra.
'Oh, many men,' she'd answered in a low voice mat was almost as hard as a man's voice for all its feminine resonance. 'But none of them were lovers.'
The lovers would come. Julius Caesar would come; and then the one who swept her away from all the things he'd taught her. 'For Egypt,' she'd cry. But it wasn't for Egypt. Egypt was Cleopatra then. And Cleopatra was for Antony.
It was getting light. The mist above the sea had paled, and he could see now the sparkling surface of the dark blue water.
High above, the pale sun burnt through. And at once he felt it working on him. He felt a sudden breath of energy pass through him.
His cheroot had long ago gone out. He pitched it into the void, and drawing out his gold cigarette case, took another.
A foot sounded on the steel deck behind him.
'Only a few hours, sire.'
The match came up to light the cheroot for him.
'Yes, my loyal one,' he said, drawing in the smoke. 'We wake from this ship as if from a dream. And what are we to do in the light of day with these two who know my secret, the young scoundrel, and the aged philosopher who may pose the worst threat of all with his knowledge?'
'Are philosophers so dangerous, sire?'
'Lord Rutherford has great faith in the invisible, Samir. And he is no coward. He wants the secret of eternal life. He realizes what it really is, Samir.'
No answer. Only the same distant and melancholy expression.
'And I'll tell you another little secret, my friend,' he went on. 'I've grown to like the man mightily.'
'I've seen it, sire.'
'He is an interesting man,' Ramses said. And to his surprise he heard his voice break. It was hard for him to finish, but he did, saying: 'I like to talk to him.'
* * *
Hancock sat at his desk in the museum office, looking up at Inspector Trent from Scotland Yard.
'Well, as I see it, we have no choice. We seek a court order to enter the house and examine the collection. Of course if everything is as it should be, and there are no coins missing. . .'
'Sir, with the two we have now, that's almost too much to hope for.''
PART 2
1
HE GRAND Colonial Hotel was a rambling pink confection of moorish arches, mosaic floors, lacquered screens and peacock wicker chairs, its broad verandas overlooking the shining sand and the endless blue of the Mediterranean beyond it.
Rich Americans and Europeans in perennial summer white thronged its immense lobby and other public rooms. An orchestra played Viennese music in one of its open bars. A young American pianist played ragtime in another. The ornate brass lifts, riding directly upwards beside the curving grand stair, seemed eternally in operation.
Surely if this resort had existed in any other place, Ramsey would have loved it. But Elliott could see in the very first hour of their arrival that Alexandria was a profound shock to him.
His vitality seemed immediately sapped. He fell quiet at tea, and excused himself to go wandering.
And that night at dinner, when the subject of Henry's abrupt departure for Cairo was raised, he was almost snappish.
'Julie Stratford's a grown woman,' he said, glancing at her. 'It's preposterous to think she requires the companionship of a drunken, dissolute being. Are we not, all of us, as you say, gentlemen?'
'I suppose so,' Alex responded with predictable brightness. 'Nevertheless he is her cousin and it was her uncle's wish-'
'Her uncle doesn't know her cousin!' Ramsey declared.
Julie cut the conversation short. 'I'm glad Henry's gone. We'll join him in Cairo soon enough. And Henry in Cairo will be a cross as it is. Henry in the Valley of the Kings would be intolerable.''
'Quite right.' Elliott sighed. 'Julie, I am your guardian now. Officially.'
'Elliott, the trip is far too difficult for you. You ought to go on to Cairo and wait for us there, also.'
Alex was about to protest when Elliott motioned for silence. 'That's out of the question now, dearest, and you know it. Besides, I want fo see Luxor again, and Abu Simbel, perhaps for the last time.'
She looked at him thoughtfully. She knew that he was speaking the truth on both counts. He couldn't let her travel alone with Ramsey, no matter how much she wanted to. And he did want to see those monuments again. But she also sensed he had his own distinct priorities.
Regardless, her acceptance was quite enough for Elliott.
'And when do we go on to the Nile steamer?' Alex asked. 'How much time do you need in this city, old boy?' he asked Ramsey.
'Not very much,' Ramsey said dismally. 'There is precious little left of the old Roman times which I hoped to see.'
Ramsey, after devouring three courses without ever touching a knife or a fork, excused himself before the others had finished.
By the following afternoon, it was clear he was in a dismal state. He said almost nothing at luncheon; declined to play billiards and again went out walking. It was soon obvious that he was walking at all times of the night and day, and had left Julie entirely to Alex for the time being. Even Samir did not apparently have his confidence.
