The Mummy Case by Elizabeth Peters Page B

Ramses.
    "What objects were you curious about?" his father asked.
    "Never mind," I said. "Do you realize that the day is half gone? I have never known any group of people to waste so much time over inconsequential matters."
    Emerson shot me a look that said, plain as speech, "Andwhose fault is it that we have wasted half the day?" He did not speak aloud, however, since we try not to criticize one another before Ramses. A united front is absolutely essential for survival in that quarter. Instead he groaned, "I cannot shake the dust of this abominable city off my shoes too soon. I had hoped to leave by the end of the week, but..."
    "We can leave tomorrow if we get to work at once," I replied. "What remains to be done?"
    There was not really a great deal. I agreed to take care of our travel arrangements and the dispatch of the supplies I had purchased. Emerson was to go to Aziyeh, the nearby village from which we recruited our skilled workers, to make the final plans for their travel to Mazghunah.
    "Take him with you," I said, indicating Ramses.
    "Certainly," said Emerson. "I had intended to do that. What about John?"
    John had lumbered to his feet when I entered the room. He remained standing, stiff as a statue, throughout the discussion, without venturing to speak. His eyes, fixed unblinkingly on my face, held the same expression of mingled shame and hope I had often seen on the countenances of the dogs after they had misbehaved.
    "Madam," he began, with the most meticulous attention to his vowels, "I wish to say—"
    "Too much has been said already," I interrupted. "I don't blame you, John. You are off your native turf, so to speak. In future I will define the perimeters of your wanderings more carefully."
    "Yes, madam. Thank you, madam." John beamed. "Am I to go with Master Ramses and the professor, madam?"
    "No. I need you. Is that all right with you, Emerson?"
    Emerson, in his consummate innocence, said that it was quite all right with him.
    And so, after a hasty meal, we separated to complete our assigned tasks. I was soon finished with mine. Europeans constantly complain about the dilatory habits of the East, but Ifancy that is only an excuse for their own incompetence. I have never had the least difficulty getting people to do what I want them to do. It only requires a firm manner and a determination not to be distracted from the matter at hand. That is Emerson's trouble, and, in fact, the trouble with most men. They are easily distracted. I knew, for instance, that Emerson would spend the rest of the day on a project that could have been completed in three hours, travel time included. He would loll around smoking and fahddling (gossiping) with Abdullah, our old foreman; Ramses would come home with his stomach stuffed with insanitary sweeties and his precocious brain stuffed with new words, most of them indelicate. I was resigned to this. The alternative would have been to take Ramses with me.
    John followed me with mute and meticulous devotion while I carried out my tasks. The faintest shade of apprehension crossed his ingenuous countenance when I directed the driver of the carriage to let us out near the entrance to the Khan el Khaleel, but he held his tongue until we were almost at our destination.
    "Ow, madam," he began. "Oi promised the master—"
    "Vowels, John," I said. "Mind your vowels."
    John fell in behind me as I passed under the archway leading from the square. "Yes, madam. Madam, are we going to that there—to that place?"
    "Quite right."
    "But, madam—"
    "If you promised Professor Emerson you would prevent me from going there, you ought to have known better. And he ought not to have extracted from you a promise you could not possibly keep." John let out a faint moan and I condescended to explain—something I seldom do. "The cat, John—Ramses' cat. The least we can do is search for the animal. It would break the boy's heart to leave it behind."
    A scene of utter pandemonium met our eyes when we turned