walked out again into the noisy street.
Be not afraid. Do as they do. If they walk near the metal pathways, you must do this too.
But no sooner had she started off again than there came one of those shrill blasts from the iron chariots. She covered her ears, crying in spite of herself, and when she looked up another fine man was standing in her path.
'Can I help you, little lady? You're not lost down here, are you? You mustn't go about down here by the railway station with that money showing in your pocket like that.'
'Railway station ...'
'Don't you have a handbag?'
'No,' she said innocently. She allowed him to take her arm. 'You help me?' she said, remembering the phrase Lord Rutherford had used a hundred times to her. 'I can trust you?'
'Oh, of course!' he said. And he meant it. Another young one. With smooth, lovely skin!
* * *
Two Arabs left the rear of Shepheard's, one slightly taller than the other, both striding very fast.
'Remember,' Samir said under his breath, 'take very big steps. You are a man. Men do not take small steps, and swing your arms naturally.'
'I should have (earned this trick a long time ago,' Julie answered.
* * *
The Great Mosque swarmed with the faithful as well as tourists who had come to see this wonder, and come to see the sight of devout Moslems in worship on their knees. Julie and Samir moved lazily through the crush of tourists. Within minutes they had spotted the tall Arab with the dark glasses, in his flowing white robes.
Samir placed a key in Ramses' hand. He whispered the address and the directions. Ramses should follow him. It would not be a long walk.
He and Julie moved on, with Ramses a few paces behind.
* * *
Ah, she liked this one, who called himself an American and spoke in such a strange voice. They rode along together in the horse-drawn 'taxi' carriage, among the 'motorcars.' And she was no longer afraid.
Before they'd left the 'railway station' she'd realized that the big iron chariots pulled people about. Just a common means of transportation. How strange.
This one was not as elegant as Lord Rutherford, by any means, but he spoke more slowly and it was becoming quite simple for her to understand, especially as he pointed to things as he spoke. She knew now what was a Ford automobile, and a Stutz Bearcat, and also a little roadster. This man sold such things in America. He was a merchant of Ford automobiles in America. Even poor people could buy these driving machines.
She clutched the canvas bag he'd bought her, which held the money and the bits of paper with OPERA written on them.
'And this here is where the tourists live,' he said to her, 'more or less. I mean, this is the British sector. ...'
'English,' she said.
' 'Yes, but all the Europeans and Americans pretty much come here, too. And that building there-that's where all the best people stay, the British and the Americans, that's Shepheard's, the hotel, if you know what I mean.'
'Shepheard's-the hotel?' She gave a little laugh.
'That's where the opera ball's going to be tomorrow night. That's where I'm staying. I don't much like opera'-he made a little face-'never did much care for it. But here in Cairo, well, this is an important thing, you see.'
'Important thing, you see.'
'Real important. So I figured pretty much I'd go, you see, and to the ball afterwards, though I had to rent a tailcoat and all that.' He had a lovely light in his eyes as he looked down at her. He was enjoying himself immensely.
And she was enjoying herself as well.
'And A'ida being all about ancient Egypt.'
'Yes, Radames singing.'
'Yes! So you know it. Bet you like opera, bet you appreciate it.' Suddenly he made a little frown. 'Are you okay, little lady? Maybe you'd find the old city more romantic. You want something to drink? How about a little ride in my car. It's parked right behind Shepheard's.'
'Motorcar?'
'Oh, you're quite safe with me, little lady, I'm a real safe driver. Tell you what. Have you been out to the pyramids?'
Pee-ra-mids.
'No,' she said. 'Drive in your car, super!'
He laughed. He shouted a command to the taxi and the driver pulled the horse to the left. They rode around the hotel, Shepheard's, a handsome building with pretty gardens.
When he reached up to help her down from the carriage, he almost touched the tender opening in her side. She shivered. But it had not happened. Yet it had reminded her that the wound was there. How could one live with such awful sores? That was the mystery. Whatever happened now, she must return at dusk to see Lord Rutherford again. Lord Rutherford had gone to speak with the man who could explain these things-the man with the blue eyes.
* * *
They arrived together at the hideout. Julie agreed to wait as Samir and Ramses entered, inspected the three little rooms and their neglected garden; then they motioned for her to come in, and Ramses bolted the door.
There was a small wooden table with a candle in the middle, stuck in an old wine bottle. Samir lighted the candle. Ramses drew up two of the straight-backed chairs. Julie brought the other.
This was comfortable enough. The afternoon sun came through the old garden and through the back door, and the place was hot, but not unbearable, as it had been locked up for a long time. A damp musky odor of spices and hemp hung in the air.
Julie took off the Arab headdress, and shook out her hair. She had not pinned it up because of the headdress, and now she loosened the ribbon that kept it tied at the back of her neck.
'I don't believe you killed that woman,' she said immediately, looking up at Ramses as he sat across from her.
Like a sheikh he looked in the desert robes, his face partially in shadow, the candle glinting in his eyes.
Samir sat down quietly to her left.
'I didn't kill the woman,' Ramses said to her. 'But I am responsible for the woman's death. And I need your help, both of you. I need someone's help. And I need your forgiveness. The time has come for me to tell you everything.'
'Sire, I have a message for you,' Samir said, 'which I must give you at once.'
'What message? ' Julie asked. Why hadn't Samir told her of this?
'Is it from the gods, Samir'? Are they calling me to account? I have no time for less important messages. I must tell you what has happened, what I've done.'
' 'It's from the Earl of Rutherford, sire. He accosted me at the hotel. He looked like a madman; he said that I must tell you that he has her.''
Ramses was obviously stunned. He glared at Samir almost murderously.
Julie could not bear this.
Samir removed something from under his robe and gave it to Ramses. It was a glass vial, such as those she'd seen among the alabaster jars in the collection.
Ramses looked at this, but he didn't move to touch it. Samir went to speak again, but Ramses gestured for
