“I thought you enjoyed theatrical performances. What could be more romantic than being snatched up by a veiled rider on a white horse and carried off into the desert? Seriously,” he went on, before I had framed an adequately derisive reply, “I wanted to have a private conversation with you. It is difficult to find you alone.”

“I will, of course, repeat everything you say to Emerson.”

“That is your privilege.” He slowed the horse to a walk. “But I can’t carry on a reasonable discussion with Emerson stamping and swearing and trying to knock me into the next room.”

“I suggest you be brief, then. Emerson is in hot pursuit.”

Sethos glanced over his shoulder. “He’s quite a bit behind. What I need to ascertain from you is if you have any ideas as to the identity of your assailant. I haven’t been able discover anything about him.”

“You were the one who stabbed him, I presume. Didn’t you—”

“There wasn’t time for me to search him. I was in somewhat of a hurry,” he replied blandly. “Did you and Emerson discover anything in his pockets that might identify him?”

As a rule I have no difficulty making decisions. Sethos was far more familiar with the network of thieves and rogues that plagued Egyptian society. I quashed the temptation to mention the monocle and cards, and said, “Nothing.”

He looked back. “I see Emerson is gaining on us. He can run quite fast for a man of his size, can’t he? If it occurs to him to commandeer a horse, he may become a nuisance.” He pulled his steed to a stop and lowered me to the ground. “If I were a phrenologist I would say you had a hollow where your bump of self-preservation should be. Please do your long-suffering husband and me a favor, and try to stay out of trouble. À bientôt, Amelia.”

Sethos was a distant figure when Emerson swept me into his arms. His embrace was such that I could scarcely breathe, but his panting was adequate for the two of us. “Good Gad, Peabody, are you unharmed?” he demanded as he stepped back and searched my face.

“I’m fine, Emerson,” I said, although I was feeling a bit dizzy. I am unaccustomed to “theatrical performances” of such intensity and drama.

Emerson glowered at the disappearing rider. “I needn’t bother to ask, I presume,” he said. I shook my head. “Then we shall discuss this later, Peabody, and in private. Selim and the crew are no doubt standing idle, their mouths agape. We have work to do.”