The Golden One - Elizabeth Peters [175]
“I always do.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. “Take care of yourself. Sir Edward, try and keep him out of mischief.”
“Don’t I get a kiss?” that gentleman inquired.
She laughed at him, and gave him her hand. “Good luck. And thank you.”
We reached Khan Yunus by midmorning and went at once to the house, followed by a throng of idlers. The gate was closed, and there were two soldiers guarding it. They snapped to attention, rifles raised, when they saw us, and then one of them exclaimed, “It’s them!”
“Grammar, young man,” I said. “It is indeed we. Let us pass, if you please.”
Selim went at once to his beloved motorcar. “They have stolen two of the tires!” he cried in anguished tones.
“That’s easily remedied,” said Emerson, helping me to dismount. “Come along, Selim, you can play with the motorcar later.”
A quick inspection assured us that the house was deserted and that a good many items were missing, including the best part of “the favorite’s” elegant wardrobe. “Can’t be helped,” said Emerson. “Lucky we had everything we needed with us. Let us go to the mak’ad. I expect we will be receiving a visit soon.”
“Yes, our arrival will have been reported,” I agreed. “Esin, I want you to stay here in the harem.”
“Why?” she demanded.
“You are an enemy alien,” Nefret said. “If the soldiers find out you are here, they will take you away.”
I hadn’t intended to be quite so blunt about it, but the warning had the desired effect. Esin’s rounded cheeks paled.
“We won’t let them take you,” Ramses said quickly. “Just stay out of sight and keep quiet.”
“I would very much like a bath,” I said. “But that will have to wait until we round up a few of the servants. In the meantime, what about a nice hot cup of tea?”
The inefficiency of the military was disappointing. It took them an hour to react to the news that we had returned. The open arches of the mak’ad constituted an excellent observation post; we were sipping a second cup of tea when he burst into the courtyard, kicked an unfortunate chicken out of his path, and came to a stop, staring. Emerson leaned over the rail and called to him.
“Up here, Cartright. Join us.”
“We ought to have expected it would be he,” I remarked. “He appears to be in quite an unhappy frame of mind.”
Cartright took the stairs two at a time. His face was flushed and his mustache looked as if he had been chewing on it.
“You’re here,” he gasped. “All of you.”
“Obviously,” I replied. “Nefret, is there more hot water? I believe Major Cartright could do with a cup of tea. Do sit down, Major.”
The young man collapsed onto a chair and passed a handkerchief over his face. “Where have you been? We’ve been searching for days.”
“Not that long, surely,” I said. “Drink your tea. We have decided to take advantage of your kind offer to facilitate our return to Cairo. We will need petrol, water, food, and two new tires. Is there anything else, Emerson?”
Leaning against the wall, arms folded and lips twitching, Emerson shook his head. “Not that I know of. Continue, Peabody, you seem to have the situation well in hand.”
“We would like to leave tomorrow morning,” I explained. “You seem to have frightened our servants away. Persuade—persuade, I said—them to return. We have clothing to be washed and meals to be prepared.”
“Mrs. Emerson . . . please.” Cartright waved away the cup I had offered. “Just stop talking, will you? Professor, I want to know where the devil—”
“Language, language,” said Emerson. “There are ladies present. As for answering your questions, sir, I am not subject to your orders.”
“General Chetwode—”
“Nor his. I will report to whom I see fit and when I see fit. In Cairo, to be precise. Are you going to get us the supplies we need or must I go over your head?”
“I . . . yes. That is, I will get them. And go with you.”
“There won’t be room in the motorcar,” said Emerson with finality. “Oh—I almost forgot. The horses. Fine animals. They are in the stable.”
Cartright sat bolt upright. “Then it was you who . . . One of the troopers swore there was a woman in the party, but—”
“Me,