“Do not endeavor to distract me,” he replied in a chilly voice, his brow lowered above his eyes. “To begin, where is Herr Morgenstern? Why did he not arrive with you on the train from Cairo?”

I took a sip of sherry and related in detail my discovery of Herr Morgenstern outside the hotel, the doctor’s diagnosis and instructions, and my success with hypnosis. “We could not in good conscience compel him remain at the hotel after he had come to his senses and achieved a modicum of health. He will, I believe, return here in the next day or two to resume his duties. You and he will have to come to an agreement concerning the city site.”

Ramses cleared his throat. “Shall you tell him about the copy we encountered in Abubakar’s shop across the street from the museum, or shall I?”

I motioned at him to enlighten Emerson and sat back in preparation for a lengthy diatribe, interrupted by choice curses and threats. It would only worsen when he learned what had taken place at the train station, I mused. And it did. Emerson’s voice could have been heard as far away as Luxor, and must have been painfully audible to the tourists disembarking less than a mile away in order to view the remains of Amarna from beneath their wide-brimmed bonnets and bowlers.

He broke off in the midst of an especially profanity-laden rant when Fatima appeared to announce that luncheon was served. I smiled gratefully at her as we went to the dining room. Although all the members of our staff are inured to Emerson’s outbursts, he does make an effort to moderate his language in the presence of ladies. However, he was still harrumphing under his breath as we took our places at the table.

“Have you heard from Nefret?” I asked.

Emerson smiled for the first time in a long while. “After I received your telegram, I sent one to her informing her of what I believed was your accomplishment in—er—providing hospitality to Herr Morgenstern. Her reply stated that she would arrive here this afternoon.”

We finished the meal without further conversation, interrupted only by Fatima’s periodic entreaties to refill our plates. Emerson put down his napkin and asked me if I intended to accompany him to the site to evaluate the progress that had been made in the last few days. His tone of voice and general demeanor indicated little enthusiasm but even less doubt that I would respond affirmatively.

“Of course, Emerson,” I said briskly. “Allow me to change into more practical clothing. I shall return in no more than a few minutes. Ramses, I suspect you are still feeling the effects of the poison from that dart. You need to rest, my dear boy.”

David, who probably knew Ramses better than anyone, said, “His gait is unsteady. I will remain here in order to monitor him, unless you think my presence is necessary.”