archaeology and hieroglyphs.” She glanced at the taciturn young man beside her. “You know about the Skin Map?”
He nodded.
“What do you know?”
“I know that Sir Henry set great store by it, my lady. And I know he and Mr. Livingstone were killed for it.”
“Yes, well, Dr. Young is going to help Kit find the Skin Map.”
“He knows where it is?”
Wilhelmina shook her head. “No, he doesn’t. But if the map is to be found in Egypt, he is the man to find it.”
The park run ended in a wide expanse of lawn behind a brooding baronial-style edifice—the house of a wealthy shipping magnate. “This way,” said Mina, turning away from the stately house. “They are a bit touchy about trespassers. We best stay out of sight.” She led them to a low iron fence, swung easily over it, and started down a rutted road. “We’re still a few miles from the city, but with any luck there will be a coach along and we can catch a ride.”
The expected carriage did not appear, however, and they reached Edinburgh through its grubby suburbs of low, mean houses, their whitewashed walls darkened by the smoke and soot of Auld Reeky—which in no way prepared Giles for the impact of the sprawling city itself. By the time they reached city centre the effect was complete; Giles took in the grand red stone buildings lining the streets and the citizens going about their business. A sprawling castle soared high above them on a sheer rock cliff right in the heart of the town, and Giles could only stand and gape in mute wonder.
“What do you think?” asked Wilhelmina.
“It is a fine and handsome place,” Giles concluded, looking around. “Greater even than London—more buildings of stone, and the carriages are bigger.”
“That’s just the beginning.” Just then a clock high up in the tower of a church at the far end of the street began striking the hour: three o’clock. “We best hurry along. We don’t want to disturb them at home over tea.”
Again the puzzled expression played over the young man’s broad features. “Do they not go to the teahouse?”
Mina sensed the cause of his confusion. “Oh, sure. There are still tea shops around—loads of them. But increasingly, people take their tea at home. Also, they take a light afternoon meal along with it.”
Giles accepted this explanation with his customary nod.
She turned to him and began walking at a pace along the street. “Speaking of meals—are you hungry? We have just time enough to grab a sandwich—” She regarded the blank look on her companion’s face and guessed its source. “Sorry, I forgot you won’t know about those yet. But don’t worry. You’ll like them.”
Three ham, cheese, and mustard baps, two mugs of milky tea, and a carriage ride later—the tea was drunk at a cab stand, and the sandwiches devoured in the back of the carriage by a ravenous Giles who pronounced the experience a very marvel—they arrived on the steps of a large stone house on Charlotte Street. Wilhelmina yanked the bellpull, and in a moment the black enamelled door was opened by a young woman in a serving maid’s blue uniform. She gazed at them impassively, but said nothing.
“We have come to see Dr. Thomas Young,” Mina announced. “I believe he is staying here.”
“I am to say that Dr. Young is with his family. He is not seeing patients today.”
“We are not patients,” replied Mina crisply. “We are fellow explorers. Rest assured, we would not disturb him unless it was of the highest importance and interest to him. Please inform Dr. Young that we have come from Egypt with important information about his forthcoming expedition.”
“If you please to wait here”—the girl turned away—“I will tell him.”
A minute later the door was opened again—this time by a bewhiskered man wearing round steel-rimmed glasses and a black frock coat. “Good day to you, friends. How can I be of service?”
“Good day, Dr. Young. Thank you for agreeing to see us. We will try not to take up too much of your time.”
“Am I to understand that you have information regarding my expedition to Egypt?”
“Information, yes,” affirmed Wilhelmina. “And a proposition for you to consider.”
The doctor made no move to open the door, nor admit them. “A proposition,” he said flatly, taking in her curious garb. “Am I to know the nature of this proposition?”
“It concerns the discovery of the tomb of Anen, High Priest of Amun, and the recovery of a wealth of treasures,