Part 13 (2/2)

My speech was not so measured, for Emerson's hands had closed bruisingly over mine, and he was employing considerable force to free himself. It was not until a cry of pain burst from my lips that he desisted

”The damage is done, whatever it was,” he said breathlessly. ”She is silent now ... I am sorry, Peabody, if I hurt you.”

His taut muscles had relaxed. I leaned against him, trying to control my own ragged breathing My wrists felt as if they had been squeezed in a vise, but I was conscious of an odd, irrational thrill. ”Never mind, my dear. I know you didn't mean to.”

The silence without did not endure. The voice that broke it was the last I expected to hear- bold, unafraid, official- the voice of a man giving crisp orders in faulty Arabic.

”Another ruse,” I exclaimed.

”I think not,” said Emerson, listening. ”That chap must be English, no Egyptian speaks his own language so badly. Have I your permission to open the door a crack, Peabody?”

He was being sarcastic. Since I knew he would do it anyway, I agreed.

By comparison to the darkness that had prevailed earlier, the street was now brightly lit by lanterns and torches carried by men whose neat uniforms made their ident.i.ty plain. One of them came toward us. Emerson had been correct, his ruddy compexion proclaimed his nationality just as his erect carriage and luxuriant mustache betrayed his military training.

”Was it you who screamed, madame?” he inquired, politely removing his cap. ”I trust you and this gentleman are unharmed.”

”I did not scream, but thanks to you and your men we are quite unharmed.”

”Hmph,” said Emerson ”What are you doing in this part of the city, Captain?”

”It is my duty, sir,” was the stiff reply ”I am serving as an adviser to the Cairo police force. I might with better cause ask the same question of you”

Emerson replied that we were paying a social call. The incredulity this answer provoked was expressed, not in speech, but in the young man's pursed lips and raised eyebrows. Obviously he did not know who we were.

He offered to escort us back to our carriage. ”Not necessary,” said Emerson. ”You seem to have cleared the way very neatly, sir. Not even a fallen body in sight. Did they all get away from you?”

”We did not pursue them,” was the haughty reply. ”The prisons are overflowing with such riffraff and we had nothing to charge them with.”

”Screaming in public,” Emerson suggested.

The fellow had a sense of humor after all, his lips twitched, but he replied sedately, ”It must have been one of them who cried out, if the lady did not. They did not attack you, then?”

”We cannot charge them with anything,” I admitted. ”In fact, you could arrest us, Captain, we forced entry into this house and broke the door.”

The officer smiled politely. Emerson took a handful of money from his pocket and tossed it onto the table. ”That should take care of any complaints about the broken door. Come along, my dear, we are late for our appointment.”

We had taken the wrong turning at the fountain The proprietor of the coffee shop knew Mr. McKenzie's house very well, it was only a short distance away. But somehow I was not surprised when his servant informed us that he was not expecting guests that evening In fact, he had already retired. He was, the servant said reproachfully, a very elderly man.

CHAPTER 5.

”Men are frail creatures, it is true, one does not expect them to demonstrate the steadfastness of women.”

Not so cursed elderly he had forgotten where he lives,” Emerson remarked. ”The directions are clear.

Left at the sabil.”

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