The servant was surrounded by his fellows who were attending to him, but I shall never forget the terror in his face—whether for fear of the scorpion's sting or for calling attention to himself during the Pasha's visit.

Pasha or not I was going to see that the man had special attention. Before I had left England, Alison had supplied me with many homemade remedies which were good she insisted for all the dangers I might encounter in a hot dry land.

There was one which was an antidote to wasps, horseflies, and the occasional adder which we found in our Cornish countryside and although I doubted that our mild remedies would work very well on the poison of a scorpion I was determined to try.

So I brought my pot of ointment and as I applied it I noticed on the sufferer's arm that he had been branded with a sign I had noticed before. He immediately grew calmer, and I was sure that he thought there was some special healing power in that jar which I believed had at one time contained Dorcas's special mint jelly.

In any case the man was so sure that he would be cured by this foreign medicine that he seemed to be; and the dark eyes of his fellow servants regarded me with awe and wonder so that I felt like some Occidental witch doctor.

The Pasha, who had come to see me deal with his servant, nodded and smiled approvingly. He thanked me personally for what I had done.

Half an hour later they left and I watched their departure with Theodosia and Tabitha as I had their arrival. The Pasha walked to the boat which was waiting to take him upriver. The boatmen had decorated it with flags and flowers which they must have gathered, such as stork bill—a bright purple flower so called because when the petals fell and the center of the flower was exposed it had the appearance of a stork's bill—and the flame-colored flowers of the flamboyant tree. Many people had assembled to watch his progress and to call out their homage to him. It was clear that not only the servants of the palace but the fellaheen of the neighborhood lived in terror of the powerful Pasha.

Tabitha said: "It is exactly the same pattern as when he came here before. I think he was quite pleased with his reception and he has taken quite a fancy to you, Judith."

"He certainly smiled all the time," I replied, "but I noticed that the servants seemed just as terrified when he was smiling as when he was not. It may well be the custom to appear especially benign when you are about to be most venomous. What do we do now? May we retire or are we expected to be here to pay homage when they return from the site."

"He'll not come back here," said Tabitha. "His entourage will set forth and meet him upriver. From there I believe he will go the short distance to his night's destination."

"Then I shall go to bed," I said. "Placating Pashas can be an exhausting experience."

It was not until early morning that Tybalt came in. I awoke at once.

He sat on a chair and stretched his legs out before him.

"You must be tired," I said.

"I suppose so, but quite wakeful."

"That enormous meal you consumed and all that khoshaf I should have thought would have had a soporific effect."

"I willed myself to remain alert. I had to make sure that all went as it should and no offense be given."

"I hope I was adequate."

"So much so that I thought he was going to make me an offer for you. I believe he thought you would be an admirable addition to his harem."

"And I suppose had the offer been high enough and you could have commanded a tidy sum to be dedicated to your pursuits in the archaeological field you would have readily agreed to exchange me?"

"But of course," he said.

I giggled.

"Actually," I said, "I didn't quite trust all that benignancy."

"He was very interested in what we were doing and made a thorough examination of the site."

"Did you show him the new discovery?"

"It was necessary to do so. There had to be some explanation as to why we were working from inside those subterranean passages. It's impossible to keep these matters entirely secret. He was most interested, of course, and asked to be informed as soon as anything is revealed."

"Do you think that will be soon, Tybalt?"

"I don't know. We have found an indication that there is something beyond the walls of one of the chambers. Because of the inevitability of robbers attempting to break into the tombs it has been known for one burial chamber to be hidden behind another—the theory being that the robbers having found one tomb would believe that was all to be discovered and fail to find the more important site behind it. And if this should prove the case, the one which was being thus protected would doubtless be of a very important person indeed. I am convinced that this was what my father was aware of." Tybalt frowned. "There was one rather disturbing incident during the tour. You remember when I took you there we heard a footstep?"

"Yes, I do." It came back to me clearly: the rising of goosepimples on my flesh, the terror which had overtaken me.

"It happened again," said Tybalt. "I was certain that some unauthorized person or persons were somewhere there."

"Wouldn't you have seen them?"

"They could have avoided us."

"They might have been hiding in the deep pit over which that rather fragile wooden bridge has been put. Did the Pasha hear it?"

"He said nothing, but I fancy he was alert."

"He might have thought it was a member of the party."

"It was a small group of us who went into the tomb. Myself, the Pasha, Terence, Evan with the two servants without whom the Pasha never seems to stir."

"A sort of bodyguard?" I suggested.

"I suppose so."

"He might have felt he needed some protection from the gods since the family fortunes were built on tomb robbing."

"That's no doubt a legend."

"What happened to the young man who was stung by the scorpion?"

"He seems to have made a miraculous recovery, thanks to you. You'll have a reputation as a sorceress if you're not careful."

"What a success I am! The Pasha contemplates offering me a place in his harem, and I am possessed of strange powers which I keep enclosed in Dorcas's mint jelly jar. I can see I'm a wild success. I hope I find the same favor in the sight of my true wedded lord."

"I can give you complete assurance on that point."

"So much so that I may one day be allowed to share in your work?"

"You do, Judith."

"Letters! Accounts! I mean the real work."

"I was afraid of this," he said. "I knew you always imagined yourself being in the thick of everything. It can't be, Judith. Not yet."

"I'm too much of an amateur?"

"This is delicate work. We have to go cautiously. It won't always be so. You're learning so much."

"What of Tabitha?"

"What of her?"

"You seem often to talk of your work to her."

There was an almost imperceptible silence. Then he said: "She worked a great deal with my father."

"So she is something more than an amateur?"

"She has had some experience."

"Which I lack?"

"But which you will have in time."

"Can I get it if I am not allowed to participate?"

"You will be in time. You must try to understand."

"I'm trying, Tybalt."

"Be patient, my dearest."

When he used that term of endearment, which was rarely, my happiness overcame my frustration. If I was indeed his dearest I was content to wait. It was logical. Of course I could not come into this vast and intricate field and expect to take my place beside him.

"In time I can promise myself then?"

He kissed me and echoed: "In time."

"How long shall we be here?" I asked briskly.

"Are you tired of it already?"

"Indeed not. It grows more fascinating every day. I was thinking of Theodosia. She longs to go home."

"She should never have come."

"You mean Evan should have left her at home."

"She is too timid for an expedition of this sort. In any case, if she likes to go home she can at any time."

"And Evan?"

"Evan has his job to do here."

"I suppose he's an indispensable member of the community."

"He is indeed. He's a good archaeologist really—though inclined to theorize rather than practice."

"And you do both?"

"Of course."

"I knew it. I admire you, Tybalt, every bit as much as Pasha Hakim admired me."

I slept, but I doubt whether Tybalt did. I suspect he lay awake enjoying daydreams of the glory he was going to find when he broke through into the tomb which would have been left undisturbed—until he came—for three thousand years.

In the early morning Theodosia and I went into the souk. The heat was becoming intense. Theodosia suffered from it very much and her desire to go home was becoming an obsession as were her fears of bearing a child.

I did all I could to comfort her. I pointed out that people here probably went out into the fields and had their babies and then continued working straightaway. I had heard such tales.

This consoled her, but I knew she would never be reconciled until we were making plans to go home.

She was torn between her desire to go home or to stay with Evan.

"Where would you go?" I asked. "To Keverall Court and your mother?"

She grimaced. "Well, at least there wouldn't be this frightful heat; and Sabina would be there."

Sabina was going to have a baby too. That would be a comfort for her, of course. Sabina's reactions were quite different from Theodosia's according to her letters, in which she rambled in the same manner as she talked. It seemed that she was delighted and so was Oliver; and Dorcas and Alison were being wonders. "They seem to know everything about babies—although why they should is a bit of a puzzle, except, of course, that they had you when you were little and it seems to me, my dear Judith, that you were a unique baby. There was never one so bright, intelligent, beautiful, good, naughty (although your naughtiness was something to cluck over), all this according to your aunts, of course, and I don't believe a word of it!"