The Mummy Case Read Online Free PDF Page B

to the life that was all in all to him. It was a moment fraught with emotion—or it would have been, had not Ramses, in an effort to get a better look, swarmed up onto the railing, whence he was plucked by the paternal arm as he teetered perilously.
    "Don't do that, my boy," said Emerson. "It is not safe. Papa will hold you."
    With a visible sneer of contempt for human frailty the cat Bastet took Ramses' place on the rail. The noises from the streetbelow rose in pitch as travelers returning from the day's excursions dismounted from donkeys or carriages. Conjurers and snake charmers sought to attract the attention, and the baksheesh, of the hotel guests; vendors of flowers and trinkets raised their voices in discordant appeal. A military band marched down the street, preceded by a water carrier running backward as he poured from a huge jar in order to lay the dust. Ramses' juvenile countenance displayed little emotion. It seldom did. Only a gentle flush warmed his tanned cheek, which was, for Ramses, a display of great excitement and interest.
    The cat Bastet attacked her sleek flank with bared teeth.
    "She cannot have picked up a flea already," I exclaimed, carrying the animal to a chair.
    But she had. I dealt with the offender, made certain it had been a solitary explorer, and then remarked, "Your notion of a lead was a good idea, Ramses, but this dirty rag will not do. Tomorrow we will purchase a proper leather collar and lead in the bazaar."
    My husband and son remained at the window. Emerson was pointing out the sights of the city. I did not disturb them. Let Emerson enjoy the moment; disillusionment would come soon enough when he realized he was destined to enjoy several days— and nights—of his son's companionship. Ramses could not share the infected chamber where John reposed, and John was in no state to provide the proper degree of supervision. He was barely up to the job even when he was in the full bloom of health.
    The burden would rest principally on me, of course. I was resigned. Clapping my hands to summon the hotel safragi, I directed him to help me unpack.
    We were to dine that evening with an old friend, Sheikh Mohammed Bahsoor. He was of pure Bedouin stock, with theacquiline features and manly bearing of that splendid race. We had decided to take Ramses with us—to leave him in the hotel with only the feeble John to watch over him was not to be thought of for a moment—but my misgivings as to his behavior were happily unfulfilled. The good old man welcomed him with the gracious courtesy of a true son of the desert; and Ramses, uncharacteristically, sat still and spoke scarcely a word all evening.
    I was the only female present. The sheikh's wives, of course, never left the harim, and although he always received European ladies courteously, he did not invite them to his intimate dinner parties, when the conversation dwelled upon subjects of political and scientific interest. "Women," he insisted, "cannot discuss serious matters." Needless to say, I was flattered that he did not include me in that denunciation, and I believe he enjoyed my spirited defense of the sex of which I have the honor to be a member.
    The gathering was cosmopolitan. In addition to the Egyptians and Bedouins present, there was M. Naville, the Swiss archaeologist, Insinger, who was Dutch, and M. Naville's assistant, a pleasant young fellow named Howard Carter. Another gentleman was conspicuous by the magnificence of his dress. Diamonds blazed from his shirt front and his cuffs, and the broad crimson ribbon of some foreign order cut a swath across his breast. He was of medium height, but looked taller because of his extraordinary leanness of frame. He wore his black hair shorter than was the fashion; it glistened with pomade, as did his sleek little mustache. A monocle in his right eye enlarged that optic with sinister effect, giving his entire face a curiously lopsided appearance.
    When he caught sight of this person, Emerson scowled