"In time I can promise myself then?"
He kissed me and echoed: "In time."
"How long shall we be here?" I asked briskly.
"Are you tired of it already?"
"Indeed not. It grows more fascinating every day. I was thinking of Theodosia. She longs to go home."
"She should never have come."
"You mean Evan should have left her at home."
"She is too timid for an expedition of this sort. In any case, if she likes to go home she can at any time."
"And Evan?"
"Evan has his job to do here."
"I suppose he's an indispensable member of the community."
"He is indeed. He's a good archaeologist really—though inclined to theorize rather than practice."
"And you do both?"
"Of course."
"I knew it. I admire you, Tybalt, every bit as much as Pasha Hakim admired me."
I slept, but I doubt whether Tybalt did. I suspect he lay awake enjoying daydreams of the glory he was going to find when he broke through into the tomb which would have been left undisturbed—until he came—for three thousand years.
In the early morning Theodosia and I went into the souk. The heat was becoming intense. Theodosia suffered from it very much and her desire to go home was becoming an obsession as were her fears of bearing a child.
I did all I could to comfort her. I pointed out that people here probably went out into the fields and had their babies and then continued working straightaway. I had heard such tales.
This consoled her, but I knew she would never be reconciled until we were making plans to go home.
She was torn between her desire to go home or to stay with Evan.
"Where would you go?" I asked. "To Keverall Court and your mother?"
She grimaced. "Well, at least there wouldn't be this frightful heat; and Sabina would be there."
Sabina was going to have a baby too. That would be a comfort for her, of course. Sabina's reactions were quite different from Theodosia's according to her letters, in which she rambled in the same manner as she talked. It seemed that she was delighted and so was Oliver; and Dorcas and Alison were being wonders. "They seem to know everything about babies—although why they should is a bit of a puzzle, except, of course, that they had you when you were little and it seems to me, my dear Judith, that you were a unique baby. There was never one so bright, intelligent, beautiful, good, naughty (although your naughtiness was something to cluck over), all this according to your aunts, of course, and I don't believe a word of it!"
How this brought back Sabina and I must confess that I too felt a twinge of nostalgia for those flower-decorated banks with the ragged robin and star-of-Bethlehem and bluebells giving patriotic color to the green background and here and there the mauve of wild orchids. So different of course from this hot and arid land. I missed Dorcas and Alison and I should have loved to call in at the old rectory and listen to Sabina's chatter.
I looked up at the sky, brilliantly blue through the narrow slips between two rows of houses; and the smells and sights of the market caught me and held me in that fascination which never failed.
We went past the shop where Yasmin usually sat, her head bent low over her work, but on that morning she was not there. In her place sat a young boy; he was bending over the leather working laboriously.
We paused.
"Where is Yasmin today?" I asked.
He looked up and his eyes were immediately furtive. He shook his head.
"She's not ill?" I cried.
But he could not understand me.
"I daresay," I said to Theodosia, "she is taking a day off."
We passed on.
I was sorry that the soothsayer was seated on the pavement.
He looked up as we passed.
"Allah be with you," he murmured.
He looked so hopeful that I couldn't pass, particularly when I saw that the bowl in which payment was placed was empty.
I paused and threw something into the bowl and immediately realized my mistake. He was no beggar. He was a proud man who was plying his profession. I had paid, so I must have my fortune told.
So once again we sat on the mats beside him.
He shook his head and said: "The shadow grows big, my ladies."
"Oh yes," I replied lightly, "you told us about that before."
"It flies overhead like a bat, a big black bat."
"Sounds rather unpleasant," I said. He did not understand me but this was to comfort Theodosia.
"And my lady has been blessed. My lady is fertile. Go back to the green land, lady. There you will be safe."
Oh dear, I thought. This is the worst thing we could have done.
Theodosia rose from the mat and the soothsayer leaned towards me. His fingers like brown claws gripped my wrist.
"You great lady. You say Go and they will listen. The big bat is near."
I was looking down at his arm and there on it I saw the brand again—the head of the Jackal. It was similar to that of the man who had been bitten by the scorpion.
I said to him: "You tell me nothing but of this big bat who is hovering around. Is there nothing else?"
"Allah would be good to you. He offers much. Great joy, many sons and daughters, a big fine mansion, but in your green land. Not here. It is for you to say. The bat is very close now. It can be too late . . . for you . . . and for this lady."
I put more money in the bowl and thanked him.
Theodosia was trembling. I slipped my arm through hers.
"It's a pity we listened to that nonsense," I said. "He says the same to everybody."
"To everybody?"
"Yes, Tabitha has been given the bat treatment."
"Well, she is one of us, you see. It's threatening us all."
"Oh come, Theodosia, you're not going to tell me you believe all this. It's the sort of thing that's handed out to everybody."
"Why should he want to frighten us away?"
"Because we're strangers here."
"But we're strangers who have our fortunes told and buy certain things in the souk. They all seem very happy to see us here."
"Oh yes, but he thinks we want to be frightened. It makes it all the more exciting."
"Well, I don't want to be frightened."
"There's no need for you to be, Theodosia. Remember that."
VII
The Feast of the Nile
Tybalt was getting excited. He was certain now that he was on the right track. Those working inside the old tomb had found indisputable evidence that there was another chamber behind the wall which they were now excavating.
We had now been several months in Egypt and it was time, he said, that we had something to show for our labors. This, he was sure, was what we had come for.
"It will be a bitter disappointment," he said, "if someone has already been there."
"But if it has been hidden behind this other tomb can they have been?"
"Not unless there is another entrance, which may well be the case. There'll be another hold-up, unfortunately, for the Feast of the Nile which must be imminent. The trouble with all these feasts is not only that they exist but that there is no definite date for them. This, of course, will depend on the state of the river."
"Why?"
"Well because it's a sort of placating ceremony. It dates back thousands of years to when the Egyptians worshiped the river. They believed it had to be soothed and pacified so that when the river rose it didn't overflow to such an extent that whole villages were carried away. This has happened frequently and still does. Hence the ceremony."
"Do they really think that if they perform this ceremony the river will stay within its bounds?"
"It's become a custom now, a reason for a holiday. But it was serious enough in the past. There really was a human sacrifice then. Now they throw a doll into the river— often an enormous life-sized beautifully dressed doll. This represents the virgin who used to be thrown into the river in the old days."