“Emerson, what in heaven’s name are you doing?” I cried, futilely tugging his arm. “She is with child.”

“What better disguise for our old enemy Sethos than that of a pregnant female?” Emerson crowed. “Look at her eyes, Peabody! They are not black but greenish brown.”

“He is not the only one to have eyes of that shade,” I replied. “He may be able to impersonate a pregnant woman, but this lady is soon to give birth. Not even Sethos could simulate that activity.”

“Oh good Gad!” Emerson let go of the woman as if she had become red hot. “Are you certain?”

“Yes,” Nefret declared firmly. “Help us get her into her house.”

Emerson, who had dealt with bloody wounds, including his own, with perfect aplomb, backed off, his eyes wide. “Never mind,” I said. “Just go away. Nefret and I can manage.”

Which we did, of course.

Twenty minutes later, we left the house and found Emerson hovering nearby. “Is she all right?” he asked anxiously. “The baby?”

“Both are well,” Nefret assured him. “Her mother was ecstatic to have Sitt Hakim and Nur Misur in her home and was adamant that we have mint tea and figs. After I briefly examined the young woman, I assured her that her baby will be born in the next few days. Although she is only fifteen or sixteen, this is not her first child.” A shadow flickered across her face, but she maintained her gaze.

Once again my sometimes derided (by Emerson) belt of tools proved useful in cleansing hands, for I carry both water and alcohol with me. (The alcohol is in the form of whiskey, thus serving in two capacities, those of restorative and disinfectant.) After Nefret dribbled a few drops on a handkerchief and began to rub her hands, I took a discreet sip. If my beloved husband was to continue leaping upon people, I would need fortitude.

We proceeded on our way, following the line of the cultivation as far as was possible before striking out into the desert. Buddle was nowhere in sight, but when we neared the site where Morgenstern’s crew was working, I saw von Raubritter watching our approach with a certain air of apprehension. To give the absent Morgenstern his due, he had been working with almost the same degree of expertise Emerson and I would have demonstrated. Having identified what must have been one of the main streets of the city, he was methodically excavating the structures that had lined and thus defined it. They were an interesting mixture, stately villas interspersed with lowly houses and miscellaneous buildings. The men had not yet reached ground level in a debris-riddled courtyard. They stopped at once at a sharp word from von Raubritter.