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remembered was seeing a mummy at the Metropolitan Museum. Then when I was in college I took a course in ancient history. I really enjoyed studying about the culture.” Erica shrugged and smiled. She knew she could never give a complete explanation.
    â€œVery strange,” said Abdul. “For me, it is a job, better than breaking my back in the field. But for you . . .” He shrugged. “As long as you are happy, it is good. How old are you, my dear?”
    â€œTwenty-eight.”
    â€œAnd your husband, where is he?”
    Erica smiled, fully conscious that the old man had no idea why she was smiling. The whole complex of problems surrounding Richard cascaded out of her unconscious. It was like opening a floodgate. She was almost tempted to try to explain her problems to this sympathetic stranger, but she didn’t. She had come to Egypt to get away and to use her knowledge of Egyptology. “I’m not yet married,” she said at length. “Are you interested, Abdul?” The smile returned.
    â€œMe, interested? I’m always interested.” Abdul laughed. “After all, Islam lets the faithful have four wives. But for me I could not handle four times the joy of my only wife. Still, twenty-eight and not married. It is a strange world.”
    Watching Abdul drink, Erica thought about how much she was enjoying this interlude. She wanted to remember it.
    â€œAbdul, would you mind if I took your picture?”
    â€œI am pleased.”
    While Abdul straightened himself on his pillow and smoothed his jacket, Erica extracted her small Polaroid and attached the flash bar. A moment after the flash washed the room with unnatural light, the camera spit out the undeveloped photo.
    â€œAh, if only the Russian rockets would have worked as well as your camera,” said Abdul, relaxing. “Since you are the most beautiful and the youngest Egyptologist I have ever had in my shop, I would like to show you something very special.”
    Abdul slowly got to his feet. Erica glanced at the photo. It was developing nicely.
    â€œYou are lucky to see this piece, my dear,” said Abdul, carefully lifting the cloth cover on an object about six feet tall.
    Erica looked up and gasped. “My God,” she said in disbelief. In front of her was a life-size statue. She scrambled to her feet to look more closely. Abdul proudly stepped back like an artist unveiling his life’s work. The face was made of beaten gold reminiscent of the mask of Tutankhamen, but more finely crafted.
    â€œIt is Pharaoh Seti I,” said Abdul. He put down the cloth cover and sat, letting Erica enjoy her find.
    â€œThis is the most beautiful statue I have ever seen,” whispered Erica, gazing into the stately, calm face. The eyes were made of white alabaster set with green feldspar. The eyebrows were made of translucent carnelian. The traditional ancient Egyptian headdress was made of gold inlaid with bands of lapis lazuli. Around the neck was an opulent pectoral in the form of the vulture representing the Egyptian goddess Nekhbet. The necklace was made of gold and set with hundreds of pieces of turquoise, jasper, and lapis lazuli. The beak and the eyes were made of obsidian. At the girdle was a sheathed gold dagger whose handle was finely crafted and encrusted with precious stones. The left hand was extended, holding a mace that was also covered with inlaid jewels. The total effect was dazzling. Erica was overwhelmed.This statue was no fake, and its value was unbelievable. Indeed, any piece of the jewelry was priceless. Standing amid the warm red glow of the Oriental carpets, the statue radiated a light as pure and clear as a diamond. Slowly circling the piece, Erica finally could speak.
    â€œWhere on earth did this come from? I’ve never seen anything like it.”
    â€œIt came from beneath the sands of the Libyan desert, where all our treasures are hidden,” said Abdul, cooing like a