The train was a mere two hours late as it arrived at the non-designated stop convenient to our dahabeeyah. When I appeared at the bottom of the steps, Emerson clasped me to his manly chest. Ignoring the grins of Selim and members of our crew, he said, “I missed you dreadfully, Peabody! I should not have left you in Cairo. Please assure me that you are safe and well.”

I wiggled out of his embrace so that my feet reached firm ground. “You should know by now that I am more than capable of taking care of myself. I will admit that much has taken place since you received the telegram, some of it quite unpleasant. I should prefer to describe these events after I have had the opportunity to freshen myself and have breakfast or lunch, as Fatima chooses. The offerings on the train have not improved.”

Emerson looked at Ramses, who had fashioned a scarf around his neck to resemble an ascot (and coincidentally cover the wound on his neck). “Hmph!” he said, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Daoud’s face was stony, and David’s was concealed by smoke from his pipe. Rather than demand explanations, Emerson offered me his arm and we climbed into the small boat to cross to the Amelia. Daoud went on to join the rest of our team.

Fatima was hopping about excitedly when we came aboard. She hugged me and then enveloped Ramses in a motherly embrace that caused his ears to pinken with embarrassment. “I must prepare a meal immediately! You must eat, all of you. The food in Cairo is not healthy.” She disappeared into the galley and began issuing shrill orders to her staff.

Emerson tried to accompany me to our cabin, but I placed my hand on his broad chest and told him I would join him shortly on the upper deck. It was heartwarming to be back in the comfort of our nautical home (and marital chambers). Fatima had adorned the washbasin with flower petals and added a few drops of aromatic oil. I was exhausted but resisted the temptation to sprawl across the bed, and instead changed into a frock suitable for the upcoming inquisition—and Emerson’s inevitable explosion of curses when he heard the story.

When I appeared on the deck, I found him, Ramses, and David partaking of whiskey and soda. “It is a bit early in the day for this, is it not?” I said with a facetious frown.

“If I am correct,” Ramses said, “it is five o’clock in Mongolia. In any case, this is well deserved. May I offer you one, Mother?”

“A small glass of sherry will suffice,” I said as I sat down next to Emerson and put my hand on his. “You’re looking weary, my dear. Is all going well at the excavation site?”