And I had read Sir Ralph's letter to Sir Edward. A bribe to marry his daughter. A quarter of a million pounds for the cause if he did so.

The money had been passed over. It was safe in the hands of people who would use it to further the cause. And now Tabitha was free. I had served my purpose.

Oh no. I was being ridiculous. Many people married for money; loving one woman they married another.

But they did not murder.

There. I had faced it. Could I really suspect Tybalt and Tabitha of such a criminal deed? Of course I could not. Tabitha had been so kind to me. I remembered how sorry she had been because I had had to work for the disagreeable Lady Bodrean; she had lent me books; she had helped me improve my knowledge. How could I suspect her? And Tybalt? I thought of our marriage, our love, our passion. He could not have feigned that, could he? True, he had never been so eager, so fervent, so completely in love as I and I had accepted that as a difference in our natures.

But was it so?

What did I know of Tabitha? What did I know of Tybalt?

And here I was, with evil thoughts chasing themselves round and round in my head. I had inherited Theodosia's fear. I knew how she had felt when she had listened to the soothsayer. I understood the terror that had gripped her.

We had come to a strange land. A land of mystery, of strange beliefs, where the gods seemed to live on wreaking their vengeance, offering their rewards. That which would have seemed ridiculous at home was plausible here.

Theodosia's premonitions of disaster had proved to have substance. What of mine?

I could not stay in my room. I would go and sit on the balcony.

On the way down I met Tabitha, going up to her room.

"Oh hello, Judith," she said, "where have you been? I was looking for you."

"I took a little walk in the market and then came back. It was so hot."

"I must just have missed you. I was out there too. What do you think the soothsayer told me this time: 'You will have your bridegroom,' he said. 'It will not be long now.' So you see I'm fortunate."

"No black bat for you then?"

"No, a husband no less."

"Should I congratulate you . . . both. Who is the bridegroom to be?"

Tabitha laughed; she lowered her eyes; then she said: "It is a little premature to say. No one has asked me. Perhaps that's to come."

She was smiling secretly as she passed on upstairs.

I had begun to shiver as I had in the Temple. I went out into the hot air but I felt cold and could not stop the shivering.

I did not tell Tybalt about the letter. I hid it in a little box of embossed leather which I had bought from Yasmin some time before. I had mended the case and filed the letters in order.

Leopold Harding came to say goodbye. He said he had already stayed longer than he intended to. "Meeting you all and talking to you made it so fascinating. Even now I find it hard to tear myself away."

Tybalt told him that he must visit us in England.

"I shall take you up on that," was the reply.

There was to be a conference which would be held at the hotel. I gathered that the funds which had been set aside for this expedition were getting low and it had to be decided whether work could be continued.

Tybalt was anxious. He was afraid it would be voted to discontinue, something which he could not accept.

"To stop now at this stage would be the utmost folly," he said. "It was what happened to my father. There has been a fatal accident but that could have happened anywhere. It's these absurd rumors."

He went off with Terence, Hadrian, and other members of the party to the hotel. The palace seemed very quiet without them.

It was during the morning that one of the servants came to tell me that a worker from the site had come to see me.

He had hurt himself and wanted me to dress his wound with my now famous salve.

When I went down to the courtyard I found the young man whose wound I had dressed before and whom I knew as Yasmin's lover.

"Lady," he said, and held out his hand. It was grazed and bleeding a little. I told him to come in and I would boil some water and wash it before anointing it with my salve and bandaging it.

I knew that the hand was not badly hurt, and had perhaps been grazed purposely. He had something of importance to tell me.

"Yasmin will never come back," he said. 'Yasmin is dead. Yasmin was thrown into the river."

"Yes, I know that now."

"But, Lady, you do not know why."

"Tell me."

"Yasmin was found in the tomb. I was not with her that day, or I would be dead. Because she was found where she should not be she was taken away and killed. I know because I have confession from the man who did it. He dared do nothing else. It was the order. And then there came another order. There must be an accident. There must be a warning because it is important to some . . . that you go away."

"I see," I said. "And who gave these orders?"

The boy began to tremble visibly. He looked over his shoulder.

"You may tell me," I said. "Your secret would be safe with me."

"I dare not tell," he said. "It would be death."

"Who should know you told?"

"His servants are everywhere."

"Everywhere. Not here."

"Yes, Lady, here, in this house. You see their mark. . . ."

"The Jackal?"

"It is the sign of Anubis—the first embalmer."

I said: "The Pasha?"

The boy looked so frightened that I knew I was right.

"So," I said, "he gave orders that Yasmin should be killed; and then that one of us should have an accident which could be fatal on the bridge. One of his servants could easily have tampered with the bridge. But why should he?"

"He want you away, Lady. He want you leave it all. He fears . . ."

But he would not go on.

"So Yasmin died," I said, "and my sister died."

"Your sister, Lady. She your sister?"

I nodded.

He was horrified. I think more by the fact that he had betrayed this information to me than by the death of Theodosia, and that she should turn out to be my sister might mean that I would want to take a personal vengeance.

He said suddenly: "Yasmin, she wait for me in a secret place . . .

"A secret place?" I said quickly.

"Inside the tomb. There is small opening not far from the bridge. We have not worked in that small opening so I thought that is our spot. That was where she would have been waiting for me. That was where we lay together."

I tied the bandage and he said: "I tell you, Lady, because you good, good to me, good to Yasmin. And there are orders that there should be more accidents, that all may know the Curse is alive, and the kings are angry with those who defile their resting places."

I said: "Thank you for telling me."

"You will tell the Sir. But not tell that I told. But you will tell him and go away, and then you will be safe."

I said: "I will tell him."

"He will go then for fear it should be you who will die next, for you are his beloved."

I felt sick with horror. I wanted to be alone to think.

I wished Tybalt were here so that I could tell him what I had discovered. He should have listened to me, I told myself angrily. When Yasmin disappeared he had not appeared to be interested. But her disappearance concerned us all.

The Pasha! He wanted us out of the way. Why? I thought of his sitting at the table, eating, paying compliments, assessing our feminine attributes. He had lent us his palace. Why, if he did not want to help us? To have us under his eyes; that was why. His servants waited on us and reported everything we did. It was becoming very clear.  And little Yasmin, what had she done to deserve death? She had been found in the tomb waiting for her lover. In the little alcove, which I had not noticed but which Yasmin's lover had described.

I remembered suddenly that the soothsayer had the brand of the Jackal on his arm. So he too was the servant of the Pasha. Was it his task to predict death and disaster, to drive us away?

I must talk to Tybalt. I must tell him what I had heard. But he was at the conference. I would have to wait for his return.

The palace had become really sinister. How did we know who was watching us, listening to every word we uttered? Silent-footed servants following us, reporting on everything we did!

All the servants were the Pasha's servants. They would all have their duties. There were only two we had brought with us: Mustapha and Absalam.

And what of them?

I must find out. I went to my room and rang the bell. Mustapha came and I asked him to bring me mint tea.

I stood beside him as he laid it on the table. I said: "There is an insect. Oh dear! It's gone up your arm." Before he could move I drew up his loose sleeve. It would be on the forearm where I had seen the others.

My little ruse had told me what I wanted to know. On Mustapha's forearm was the brand of the Jackal.

I said calmly: "I don't see it now. The insects here are a pest, and their stings can be so poisonous. People are always coming for my ointment. However, it's gone."

Mustapha's suspicions had not been aroused, I was sure.

He thanked me and left me with my tea.

I sat there sipping it and thinking that if Mustapha was the Pasha's man so must Absalam be.

Then my thoughts went to Sir Edward. He had died in the palace. He had eaten food prepared by Mustapha or Absalam or both and he had died.

If he had a doctor to attend him that doctor could have been the Pasha's man.