“Tidy yourself!” Ramses snapped. “You are covered in dust and cobwebs, and your hair is poking up. Our family has a reputation to maintain at Shepheard’s, you know.”

“Your mother would be so proud of you, Higginsnort.” Sethos laughed so loudly that the carriage driver turned around to stare at him.

*  *  *

Throughout the night, Nefret and I took turns looking in on Herr Morgenstern. His immersion in the cool water had a beneficial effect, lowering his body temperature and reducing the fierce ruddiness of his complexion. Dawn was approaching when I went into the cabin and found him astir.

“You are improving steadily, Herr Morgenstern,” I said as I handed him a towel. “Would you prefer to lie on the bed?”

His eyes squinted as he attempted to identify me in the residue of fading moonlight. “Ach, Frau Emerson, I have once again made a fool of myself, although I do not seem to recollect specific details. I rode on a camel, a most dreadful creature, out into the desert, but I do not know what happened after that.” He sighed plaintively. “I wish I could explain my behavior. I am not the sort to abandon my work for a frivolous jaunt.”

Nefret must have heard our conversation. She came into the room, displaying minimal enthusiasm, and said, “I am glad to see you are recuperating, Herr Morgenstern. Based on your earlier condition, I had only a small flicker of hope that you might survive the night. Let us help you into dry clothes so that you can get proper bed rest. Aunt Amelia, do we need to call the Professor?”

“I do not think it wise to interrupt his sleep.” I said this mildly, but I was imagining Emerson’s belligerent reaction. He was not, as my Readers know, amiable when roused, especially when a nemesis was the cause of the disruption. “Herr Morgenstern, do your best to stand up. Nefret and I will hold your arms while you climb out of the bathtub and make your way to the bed. Ramses’s nightshirt will suffice; I will fetch it. I think you are strong enough to change your garments if Nefret and I help you stand up.”

He put his hands on the rim and struggled to rise to his feet. Both Nefret and I grasped his arms, and with much grunting from all of us, we navigated him the few steps to the bed, where I had placed the nightshirt. Nefret and I turned our heads while he peeled off his wet thobe, which clung to his body in a diaphanous skin. “Please put on the clean nightshirt, Herr Morgenstern. It might be a bit short, but should do.”