"I can see that the Pyramids impressed you."

"I never thought to see them. So many things are happening that are fresh and exciting. You look suddenly sad, Tybalt. Are you?"

"Only because I was thinking that you won't go on being excited about everything. You'll become blase. I shouldn't like that."

"I don't believe I ever would."

"Familiarity, you know, breeds contempt ... or at least indifference. I feel since we have been together in Cairo that things which I have seen before seem fresh, more interesting, more wonderful. That's because I'm seeing them through your eyes."

It was indeed an enchanted night.

The Kebab served by the silent-footed men in their long white robes tasted delicious. I couldn't believe it was simply lamb on skewers which had been grilled over charcoal. I told Tybalt that the Tahenia sauce into which the meat was dipped and which I discovered later was made of sesame seeds, oil, white sauce, and a hint of garlic, tasted like nectar.

He replied prosaically that it was because I was hungry. "Hunger savors all dishes," he added.

But I thought it was because I was so happy.

Afterwards we ate Esh es Seraya which was a delicious mixture of honey, breadcrumbs, and cream. We drank rose water and grenadine with fruit and nuts in it, called Khosaf.

Yes, that was an evening never to be forgotten. After dinner we sat on the terrace and looked out on the Nile, while we drank Turkish coffee and nibbled Turkish delight.

The stars seemed to hang low in that indigo sky and before us flowed the Nile down which Cleopatra had once sailed in her royal barge. I wished that I could hold those moments and go on living them again and again.

Tybalt said: "You have a great capacity for happiness, Judith."

"Perhaps," I answered. "If so, I am fortunate. It means I can enjoy the happiness that comes my way to the full."

And I wondered then if just as I felt this intensity of pleasure I could feel sorrow with an equal fervor.

Perhaps that was a thought which Tybalt shared with me.

I would not brood on it though—not on this night of nights on the romantic banks of the Nile.

When we arrived at the Chephro Palace the rest of the party had already settled in and Tabitha had slipped into the role of housekeeper.

Hakim Pasha was one of the richest men in Egypt, Tybalt told me, and it was our great good fortune that he felt benign towards our cause.

"He could have hindered us in many ways," he said, "instead of which he has decided to be of immense help to us. Hence this palace which he has put at our disposal for just enough rent to preserve our dignity—a very important facet, I do assure you. You will meet him, I daresay, because when my father was here he was a constant visitor."

I stood in the entrance hall of the palace and gazed with wonder at the beautiful staircase in white marble. The floor was covered in mosaic tiles of the most beautifully blended colors, and the stained glass in the windows depicted the sea journey of the dead through hideous dangers until they came under the protection of the Sun God, Amen Ra.

Tybalt was beside me: "I'll tell you the story later. Look, here's Tabitha to welcome you."

"So you've come!" cried Tabitha. She was looking at Tybalt with shining eyes. "I thought you never would."

"It's a long journey from Cairo," said Tybalt.

"I visualized all sorts of disasters."

"Which is just what she should not do, don't you agree, Judith? But of course you do."

"Well, now you're here. I'll take you to your room. Then you can explore the rest of the palace and, I daresay, Tybalt will want to look at the site."

"You're right," said Tybalt.

"We'll have a meal then. Mustapha and Absalam are working in the kitchens so I am sure they will mingle a little English cooking with the Egyptian which might be more agreeable to our palates. But first to your room."

Tabitha led the way up that grand and imposing staircase and we went along a gallery, the walls of which were decorated with mosaic patterns similar to those in the floor of the hall. These were figures, always in profile, usually of some Pharaohs giving gifts to a god. I had to pause to examine those figures and the beautiful muted colors of the tiles. On the ceiling was engraved the Sun God, Amen Ra; his symbol was the hawk and the ram. I remembered that Tybalt had told me that the gods of Egypt were said not only to possess all the human virtues, but in addition one from an animal. Amen Ra had two, however, the hawk and the ram. Below him was his son Osiris, God of the Underworld, who judged the dead when they had made their journey along the river. Isis was there—the great goddess beloved of Osiris, and their son Horus . . .

"The figures are so beautifully done," I said.

"It would be an insult to the gods if they had not been," added Tybalt.

He slipped his arm through mine and we went into the room which had been prepared for us. I stared at the enormous bed standing on a platform. Mosquito nets festooned over it from the ceiling like flimsy cobwebs.

"This is the bedroom used by the Pasha himself when he is in residence," Tabitha explained.

"Should we use it?" asked Tybalt.

"You must. The palace is in full use and it is only proper that our leader should have the state bedroom. Your father used it, you remember, when he was here."

She showed us an antechamber in which we could wash and generally make our toilet. There was a sunken marble bath in the center of which was a statue and three marble steps leading down to the bath; on the walls of this chamber were mosaics depicting nude figures. One side of the wall was composed of mirrors, and there was a dressing table behind gold-colored brocade curtains; a many-sided mirror reflected my image, and the frame of the mirror was studded with chalcedony, rose quartz, amethyst, and lapis lazuli. These stones were, I noticed, in the decorations throughout the bed chamber.

I laughed, "It is very grand. We shall feel like royalty."

"The Pasha has given instructions to his servants that any of our complaints will be met with dire punishment. They are trembling in their shoes."

"Is he very autocratic?"

"He is the ruler of his lands and he regards his servants as slaves. He expects absolute obedience from them. We are his guests and if we are not treated with respect, that is tantamount to insulting him. He will not accept insults."

"What happens to offenders?"

"Their bodies are probably found in the Nile. Or they may be deprived of a hand or an ear."

I shivered.

"It's magnificent. It's beautiful," I cried. "But a little frightening. A little sinister."

"That's Egypt," said Tabitha laying her hand on my arm. "Now perform the necessary ablutions and come down to eat. Then I expect you'll want some sort of conference, eh Tybalt?"

"Well," said Tybalt when we were alone, "what do you really think of it?"

"I'm not sure," I replied. "I wish it was not quite so grand and this Pasha does sound rather diabolical."

"He's quite charming. He and my father became good friends. He's a power in these parts. You will meet him soon."

"Where does he live then since he has given us his palace?"

"My dear Judith, this is but one of his palaces. It may well be the most grand, but he would consider it quite ill-mannered not to give it up to us. You have to understand the etiquette. That's very important. Don't look doleful. You will in time. Now let's get cleaned up. I can't wait to hear what's been going on."

It had changed. That other love, his profession, was in the ascendancy.

The dining room with its heavy curtains was lighted by a chandelier containing about a hundred candles. It was dark now, for there was no twilight hour as at home. But there were others to greet us and add normality to this strange palace, for which I was glad. I laughed to myself thinking that the verdict of the servants at Giza House would be that it gave them the "creeps."

We sat at the big table under the chandelier—Hadrian, Evan, Theodosia, Terence Gelding, and others whom I had not previously met but who were all practiced archaeologists deeply interested in the task ahead. Tybalt sat at one end of the table, I at the extreme end; and on my right was Hadrian and Evan was on my left.

"Well, here you are at last, Judith," said Hadrian. "What do you think of this kuftas? Personally I prefer the roast beef of old England but don't let anyone know I said that. Old Osiris might not grant me admittance to heaven when my time comes."

"You are very irreverent, Hadrian; and I advise you to keep such thoughts to yourself. Who knows who might overhear?"

"There speaks our Judith," said Hadrian appealing to Evan. "She has just arrived and immediately is telling us what we should and should not do."

Evan smiled. "On this occasion she's right. You never know what's heard and misunderstood. These servants are no doubt listening and reporting to the Pasha and your jocularity would most definitely be misconstrued as irreverence."

"What have you been doing while you were waiting for Tybalt?" I asked.

"Going over the site, getting the workmen together, arranging for this and that. There's a great deal to do on an occasion like this. You wait until you go down there and see the hive of industry we've created. She'll be surprised, won't she, Evan?"

"It is a little different from Carter's Meadow."

"And we do face difficulties," said Hadrian. "You see, many of the diggers remember Sir Edward's death and believe that he died because he went where the gods did not wish him to."