“I am pleased that you are joining us,” I said as I glanced back at Emerson. “Is that not so, my dear? You are always in the mood for convivial conversation.” I was relieved that his reply was inaudible. I beckoned our guests to follow me to the salon, where Fatima had placed decanters of sherry and whiskey. Miss Smith promptly requested sherry. Mr. Dullard tugged on his beard and finally acknowledged that he might enjoy a nip of the same. Once we were settled, I smiled at the missionary. “Is everything well at Deir el-Mowass?”

“I believe so. Although there is great poverty among them, the Copts remain dedicated to their faith and charitable to their brethren.”

Emerson raised an eyebrow. “So you are living off their benevolence? How fortunate for you that they provide you with food and lodging.”

“Indeed,” interjected Miss Smith. “They have accepted Mr. Dullard as their spiritual leader, their beacon of piety and submission to the Almighty Lord. If you met them, you would see their affection for him.”

“Yes,” I said firmly before Emerson had the opportunity to respond in what might have been a sardonic tone. “Our few encounters with members of the Coptic faith have been amiable. They have shown great courage for a minority, surrounded by those who adhere to their Moslem beliefs.”

“Only because the Moslems do not bother with them and they are all used to living together,” Emerson said.

Mr. Dullard’s eyes narrowed. “That may change, Professor. In the future, the Copts will become a factor as the probability of war looms.”

“They are not so numerous. Should they attempt to instigate a rebellion—and for what reason, one might ask—no one will notice.”

Mr. Dullard gulped down the remainder of the sherry and refilled his glass. “You are uninformed, I am sorry to say. There is unrest afoot.”

I stood up before the exchange escalated into fisticuffs. “Shall we go in the dining room? Our cook can be very testy if she is kept waiting to serve dinner. Nefret will be joining us and is looking forward to being introduced.” This was not particularly true, but courtesy forbade me from repeating her scathing (and hilarious) remarks about each of them. I led the way to the table, which had been set with our third-best silver (our first- and second-best silver were safely stored in Kent), crystal wineglasses, linen napkins, and fresh flowers. I put Emerson at the head of the table, where he always presides over meals, and indicated to our guests that they were to sit across from each other. When Nefret demurely entered, I directed her to the chair between Emerson and Mr. Dullard. I had already decided to do so in order to create a distance between the two men. Should an argument arise, she had volunteered to douse both of them with wine.