Ramses urged the boy to step forward. “This is Latif, who saved me from an assault at the Cairo train station. He is going to stay with us until we decide what is best to do with him. Latif, this is my mother. You may call her Sitt Hakim. As for my father, call him ‘sir.’”

“You are most welcome to stay here,” I said warmly. “We will put a bed for you in the cabin that Ramses and David occupy when they are not gallivanting around the world. Danger does not follow them. They devote themselves to uncovering it.”

I would have continued had not Fatima rushed into the room with shrieks of joy and an effusive display of affection. Nefret followed at a more sedate pace and greeted them cheerfully. I introduced Latif, who was overwhelmed with shyness. I could not blame him. Fatima announced that she was headed for the kitchen to prepare a breakfast feast because, as everyone knew, the food in Cairo was not safe. David declined and said he needed to sleep. Ramses echoed him and took Latif by the hand to lead him to their cabin. Fatima scowled. In a firm yet kindly voice, I ordered her to return to her own bed until it was time to begin the meal preparations. As she left, I could almost hear her planning her schedule so that the dining table would be nearly invisible beneath all the platters of food. I gazed at the trunk that occupied a significant space in the room, then suggested to Nefret that we attempt to steal a few hours of sleep.

Emerson had managed to remain in his dream. I cuddled next to him, comforted by his warmth and the knowledge that Ramses and David were safe. I thought myself unable to sleep, but I must admit that I was wrong. Please note, my loyal Readers, that such admissions seldom happen.

I awakened when a hand flopped onto my bosom. I gently removed it and returned it to its owner, then climbed out of bed and put on an unpretentious frock. I would have preferred my sturdy khaki outfit, replete with my useful belt and boots, but I wanted the Copts to regard me as a simple, pious woman, who was visiting them as a fellow Christian. I tiptoed to Nefret’s cabin and noted that her bed was unoccupied. I found her in the sitting room, groomed and dressed as I was.

“Daoud is waiting for us on the pier,” she said softly. “It is not yet dawn, but there is enough light for him to navigate to whatever dock the Copts and Mr. Dullard utilize. By the time we arrive, everybody should be up and about. I would like to be back here before the Professor has finished his third cup of coffee. The boys’ presence will help keep him occupied.”