"The blessing of Allah fall on you," he muttered and sat back on his mat, his eyes closed.

"It would seem," I said to Theodosia, as we strolled back to the palace, "that there are many people who don't approve of our activities."

"He knew," she said. "He knew who we were."

"Of course he knew. It didn't need superhuman powers to tell that we were English. Nor to guess that we were with the party. We might even have been pointed out to him. Many people in the souk know us."

"But all that talk about the angel of death . . ."

"Fortunetellers' talk," I said, "to be taken with ... no, not a grain of salt but a sip of khosaf."

"It worries me, Judith."

"I should never have allowed you to have your fortune told. You thought you were going to hear gypsy talk about a dark man and a journey across the water, a legacy and three children who will comfort your old age."

"I thought we might hear something interesting as he is an Egyptian. And instead . . ."

"Come in and I'll make some mint tea. Now that's a drink I do appreciate."

The fact was that I was a little uneasy. I didn't like this talk of the angel of death any more than Theodosia did.

As Tybalt was at the site with several of the party in spite of the fact that the workmen were not at their posts, and I did not know at what time he would return, I went to bed early and was asleep almost at once. It must have been an hour or so later when I awoke. I started up in terror because I saw a shadowy shape looming up beside my bed.

"It's all right, Judith."

"Tabitha!"

A candle which she must have brought in with her shone a faint light from the table on which she had laid it.

"Something's wrong," I cried and my thoughts still lost in vague dreams went to the soothsayer in the souk and the angel of death he had conjured up.

"It's Theodosia. She's had some ghastly nightmare. I was going up to my room when I heard her shouting. I wish you'd come in and comfort her. She seems quite distraught."

I leaped out of bed and put on the pair of embossed leather slippers I had bought from Yasmin and wrapped a dressing gown about me.

We went along to the room Theodosia shared with Evan. She was lying on her back staring up at the ceiling.

I went over and sat down beside the bed. Tabitha sat on the other side.

"What on earth happened, Theodosia?"

"I had an awful dream. The soothsayer was there and there was something in black robes like a great bird with a man's face. It was the angel of death and it had come for some of us."

"It was that old fortuneteller," I said to Tabitha. "We shouldn't have listened to him. He was just trying to frighten us."

"What did he say?" asked Tabitha.

"He talked a lot of nonsense about the angel of death hovering over us."

"Hovering over whom?"

"The whole party, I imagine, waiting to pounce on which ever one he fancied. Theodosia took it all too seriously."

"You shouldn't, Theodosia," said Tabitha. "They do it all the time. And I don't mind betting that he said Allah was giving you a choice."

"That's exactly what he did say."

"He's probably envious of someone who is working for us. This often happens. When we were here last there was a man who was uttering evil prophecies all the time. We discovered that his greatest enemy was earning more working on the site than he was himself. It was pure envy."

This seemed to comfort Theodosia. "I shall be glad," she said, "when they've found what they want and we can go home."

"These surroundings grow on you," prophesied Tabitha.

"People often feel like that at first. I mean those who are not actually involved in the work."

She began to talk as she used to when I visited her at Giza House and so interesting was she that Theodosia was considerably calmed. She told us how last time she had been here she had seen the celebration of Maulid-el-Nabi which was the birthday of Mohammed.

"The stalls looked so lovely in the souks," she explained. "Most of them were decorated with dolls made of white sugar and wrapped in paper which looked like dresses. There were processions through the streets and people carried banners on which were inscribed verses from the Koran. The minarets were lit up at night and it was a wonderful sight. They looked like rings of light up in the sky. There were singers in the streets singing praises to Allah and tale tellers who were surrounded by people of all ages to whom they related stories which had been handed down through the ages."

She went on to describe these occasions and as she talked I noticed Theodosia's eyelids dropping. Poor Theodosia, she was exhausted by her nightmare I

"She's asleep," I whispered to Tabitha.

"Then let's go," she replied.

Outside the door she paused and looked at me. "Are you sleepy?" she asked.

"No," I told her.

"Come to my room for a chat."

I followed her. Her room was beautiful. There were shutters at the window, and she opened these wider to let in the warm night air. "I look down on a courtyard," she said. "It's quite beautiful. Cacti grow down there and there are bitter apple trees. They are one of the most useful plants in Egypt. The seeds are used to add flavor to all sorts of dishes and if the fruit is boiled the liquid which is produced makes goatskin watertight."

"You are very knowledgeable, Tabitha."

"Don't forget I've been here before, and if you're vitally interested, you do pick up a great deal."

She turned from the window and lighted a few candles.

"They will probably attract insects," she said, "but we need a little light. Now tell me, Judith, does all this come up to expectations?"

"In many ways, yes."

"But not all?"

"Well, I thought I should probably have more work to do ... helping . . ."

"It's a very skilled occupation. At the moment it is mainly workmen who are needed."

"And if they really did find a hitherto undiscovered tomb I suppose I should not be allowed near it."

"It would be such a find. Only the experts would be allowed to touch anything. But Tybalt was telling me how well you look after his papers and that you are a great help in many ways."

I felt suddenly resentful that Tybalt should discuss me with her, and then I was ashamed.

She seemed to sense my feelings for she said quickly: "Tybalt does confide in me now and then. It's because I'm such a friend of the family. You are of the family now and because of this I was saying to Tybalt that you should know the truth."

"The truth!"I cried.

"About me," she said.

"What should I know about you?" I asked.

"What only Tybalt and his father knew in their household. When I came to live with them and took the post of companion to Sir Edward's wife, we thought it best that I should be known as a widow. But that is not the case. I have a husband, Judith."

"But . . . where is he?"

"He is in a mental home."

"Oh ... I see. I'm sorry."

"You will remember that I had a sudden call before we left."

"When you and Tybalt came back together."

"Yes, as I had to come back to London we met there and traveled down to Cornwall together. I had had a call because my husband had taken a sudden turn for the worse."

"He died?" I asked.

A hopeless expression came into her eyes which were large, brooding and very beautiful in the candlelight.

"He recovered," she said.

"It must be a great anxiety for you."

"A perpetual anxiety."

"You do not visit him often?"

"He does not know me. It is futile. It brings no pleasure to him and only great unhappiness to me. He is well cared for, in the best possible hands. It is all I can do."

"I'm sorry," I said.

She brightened. "Well, they say we all have our crosses to bear. Mine has been a heavy one. But there are compensations. Since I came into the Travers household I have been happier than I ever dreamed of being."

"I hope you will continue to be."

She smiled rather sadly. "I thought you ought to know the truth, Judith, now that you are a Travers."

"Thank you for telling me. Was it always so, from the time you married him? You cannot have been married so many years. You are very young."

"I am thirty," she said. "I was married at eighteen. It was a marriage arranged for me. I was without fortune. My people thought it was a great chance for me because my husband was wealthy compared with my family. Even at the time of our marriage he was a dipsomaniac, incurable they said. It grew steadily worse and when he became violent he was put away. I had met Sir Edward when he lectured on archaeology to amateurs and we became friendly.

Then he offered me this post in his household as companion to his wife. It was a great help to me."

"How very tragic."

Her eyes were fixed on me. "But no life is all tragedy, is it? I've had days of happiness, weeks of it ... ever since. But it is one of life's rules that nothing remains on the same level or at the same depth. Change is inevitable."

"I'm glad you told me."

"And I knew you would be sympathetic."

"You will stay with us?"

"As long as I am allowed to."

"Then that will be as long as you wish."

She came to me then and kissed me on the forehead. I was moved by the gesture; and as I drew away from her I saw the brooch at her throat. It was a scarab in lapis lazuli.

"I see you have a scarab brooch."