The Last Camel Died at Noon by Elizabeth Peters

that the custom to which he referred was never followed in our house. 'We will all retire,' I said.

    Walter hastened to open the door for me. 'It is an odd coincidence, though,' he said innocently. 'The Dervish uprising had just begun when Mr Forth disappeared. Now it appears to be almost over, and the message arrives - '

    'Walter, don't be so naive. If fraud is contemplated, the timing is no coincidence. The news of Slatin Pasha's escape, after all those years in captivity, may well have inspired some criminal mind -'

    He broke off with a choking sound. The blood rushed into his cheeks.

    I knew what he was thinking. I always know what Emerson is thinking, for the spiritual bond that unites us is strong. The dark shadow of the Master Criminal, our old nemesis, would always haunt us - me, especially, since I had (much to my astonishment, for I am a modest woman) inspired an intense passion in that warped but brilliant brain.

    'No, Emerson,' I exclaimed. 'It cannot be. Remember his promise, that never again would he - '

    'The promise of a snake like that is worth nothing, Peabody. This is just the sort of scheme - '

    'Remember your promise, then, Emerson. That never again would you -'

    'Oh, curse it,' Emerson muttered.

    Though she did not (at least I hoped she did not) know whereof we spoke, Evelyn tactfully introduced another subject. 'Explain to me, dear brother, what it is you hope to accomplish at Meroe, and why you can't work in Egypt as you have always done? It terrifies me to think of you and Amelia running such risks.'

    Emerson responded, though he kept tugging at his collar as if it were choking him. 'To all intents and purposes, ancient Gush is an unknown civilisation, Evelyn. The only qualified scholar who visited the site was Lepsius, and he could do little more than record what was there in 1844. That is the most important task awaiting us - to make accurate records of the monuments and inscriptions, before time and treasure hunters destroy them completely.'

    'Especially the inscriptions,' Walter said eagerly. 'The script is derived from Egyptian hieroglyphs, but the language has not been translated. When I think of the rate at which the records are vanishing, never to be recovered, I am tempted to come with you. You and Amelia cannot possibly -'

    At this Evelyn let out a cry of alarm and clutched at Walter's arm as if he were about to depart instantly for Africa. Emerson reassured her in his usual tactful fashion. 'Walter has grown soft and flabby, Evelyn. He wouldn't last a day in Nubia. A strict course of physical training, that is what you need, Walter. If you work hard at it this winter, I may allow you to accompany us next season.'

    In such animated and pleasant domestic intercourse the next hour passed. Both men had asked permission to smoke their pipes, permission which was, of course, granted; Evelyn was too kind to refuse anyone she loved and I would never dream of attempting to prevent Emerson from doing anything he liked in his own drawing room. (Though I have been forced, upon occasion, to request that he postpone a particular activity until a more appropriate degree of privacy could be attained.)

    At last I went to the window to admit a breath of fresh air. The clouds had cleared away and moonlight spread its silvery softness across the lawn. As I stood admiring the beauty of the night (for I am particularly fond of nature), a sharp cracking sound broke the dreaming peace. It was followed in rapid succession by a second and a third.

    I turned. My eyes met those of Emerson.

    'Poachers,' said Walter lazily. 'It's a good thing young Ramses is asleep. He'd be out that door -'

    Emerson, moving with pantherlike quickness, was already out that door. I followed, delaying only long enough for a quick explanation. 'Not poachers, Walter. Those shots came from a pistol. Stay here with Evelyn.'

    Hitching up my crimson flounces I sped in pursuit of my husband. He had not gone far; I found him on