Emerson passed von Raubritter the brush and then handed over the head, but with a visible disinclination to trust someone else with his discovery. Squaring his shoulders, von Raubritter said, “I appreciate your offer to help guard the cache, Professor, but that is my responsibility. With all due respect, I think that Herr Morgenstern would not—er—”

“Appreciate our interfering with another excavator’s work,” I supplied. “You are quite right, Herr von Raubritter. It will not happen again. I doubt you will have any difficulty tonight. I bid you good day. Come along, Emerson.”

Emerson sensed he was in for a scolding, as he would have called it. My mild reminders of proper behavior were sometimes taken as such by my sensitive spouse. He offered me his arm as we retreated to the dahabeeyah. Once we were in the salon, Nefret tactfully removed herself.

“I suppose,” began Emerson, “that you are about to lecture me for intruding on the duties of von Raubritter. Curse it, Amelia, I cannot allow—”

I knew I was in disfavor since he had used my given name instead of “Peabody,” which he had originally used as a term of derision, but which had become one of respect and affection. I refused to be put off.

“I have refrained from questioning you about your strange behavior because I hoped the bond between us would lead you to confide in me voluntarily. That bond seems to have weakened, so I must ask: Why do you keep leaping on people who have done nothing to provoke you? What do you know that I do not? If this has become an involuntary habit—”

“Don’t talk nonsense, Peabody!” Emerson snapped, rubbing his chin so vigorously that it reddened. “I am not subject to involuntary habits. My behavior is, as always, perfectly rational.”

“In that case you will not object to explaining it to me.”

“Oh, the devil,” Emerson muttered, “I suppose I must. You will get it out of me anyhow. I am somewhat surprised that the same explanation has not occurred to you. Who other than myself would intervene to protect you?”

“Ah,” I said. “You fear there is another assassin here in Amarna, and in disguise. Well, I confess I am relieved. That assumption renders your recent habit of leaping on people explicable, if rash.”

“To be honest, Peabody, that idea had not entered my mind. No assassin would attack when you are surrounded by other people—especially me. We both know Sethos is here. What if he has been awaiting an opportunity to kidnap you again?”

“It seems plausible,” I acknowleged, “especially since Herr Morgenstern seems to have made a significant discovery. It is a magnet for local thieves as well as those from the Continent. But you must apply reason before you knock people down. For instance, Sethos cannot possibly be Mr. Buddle. He is a good six inches shorter than Sethos.”