cries, cries of hundreds, as they stumbled out of the houses; as they came into the public square before the palace.
"They are dying, my King. It's the meat. It is poisoning them."
"Slay the remaining animals."
"But, my King ..."
"Chop them into pieces, do you hear? Throw them into the river!"
He looked down now into the watery depths. Somewhere far upstream, the tiny bits and pieces of the hand still lived. Somewhere deep, deep in the muck and mire, the grain lived. The bits and pieces of those ancient animals lived!
I tell you it is a horrible secret, a secret that could spelt the end of the world.
He went back into his cabin, and bolting the door, he sank down in the chair at the desk, and wept.
It was noon when he came out on deck. Julie was in her favourite chair, reading that ancient history which was so full of lies and gaps it made him laugh. She was scribbling a question in the margin, which of course she would put to him, and he would answer.
"Ah, you're awake at last," she said. And then seeing the expression on his face, she asked:" What is it?"
"I'm done with this place. I want to visit the pyramids, the museum, what one must visit. And then I want to be gone from here."
"Yes, I understand." She motioned for him to take the chair beside her." I want to be gone, too," she said. She gave him a quick, soft kiss on the lips.
"Ah, do that again," he said." That comforts me mightily!"
She kissed him twice, slipping her warm fingers around the back of his neck.
"We won't be in Cairo more than a few days, I promise."
"A few days! Can we not take a motor car and see these things, or better yet, simply take the train to the coast and be done with it!"
She looked down. She sighed." Ramses," she said." You have to forgive me. But Alex, he wants badly to see the opera in Cairo. And so does Elliott. I more or less promised we would. ..."
He groaned.
"And you see, I want to tell them farewell there. That I'm not going home to England. And ... well, I need the time." She studied his face." Please?"
"Of course," he said." This opera. This is a new thing? Something I should see, perhaps."
"Yes!" she said." Well, it's an Egyptian story. But it was written by an Italian fifty years ago and especially for the British Opera House in Cairo. I think you'll like it."
"Many instruments."
"Yes." She laughed." And many voices!"
"All right. I give in." He bent forward, kissing her cheek, and then her throat." And then you are mine, my beauty - mine alone?"
"Yes, on my soul," she whispered.
That night when he declined to go ashore at Luxor again, the Earl asked him if his trip to Egypt had been a success, if he had found what he wanted.
"I think I did," he said, scarcely looking up from his book of maps and countries." I think I found the future."
THIS HAD been a Mameluke house, a little palace of sorts, and Henry liked it well enough though he wasn't entirely sure what a Mameluke was except they had once been rulers of Egypt.
Well, they could have it, as far as he was concerned. But for the moment he was enjoying himself and had been for days, and in this little house crammed with Eastern exotica and big comfortable old pieces of Victorian furniture, he had just about everything he wanted.
Malenka kept him fed on delicious spiced dishes that for some reason he craved when he was sick from drink, and which enticed him even when he was very drunk and all other food tasted like gruel to him.
And she kept him in booze, taking his winnings into British Cairo and coming back with his favourite gin, Scotch, and brandy.
And his winnings had been good for a straight ten days, as he kept the card game going from noon until late into the evening. So easy to bluff these Americans who thought all British were sissies. The Frenchman he had to watch; that son of a bitch was mean. But he didn't cheat. And he paid his debts in full, though where such a disreputable man got the money Henry couldn't imagine.
At night, he and Malenka made love in the big Victorian bed, which she loved; she thought that was very high