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they won't be easily detected."
"Then they won't be easy for us to identify either," I said. "How on earth are we to go about locating them? We certainly don't want people to suspect that a new, extremely skilled forger is at work."
Ramses rose to his feet, removing the kitten from his knee to his shoulder. "May I say a word?" he inquired.
"You can try," said Emerson, with a critical look at me.
"Then, with all respect," said Ramses, "are we not taking too much on ourselves? I doubt David would thank you—us, I mean—for keeping this from him. He's not a child, and it is his reputation that is being threatened."
"Not only his reputation," said Emerson, fingering the cleft in his chin. "You remember the case of young Bouriant. He ended up in prison for selling faked antiquities. It would be even more serious for David. He is an Egyptian, and he will be judged as such."
It was a sobering thought, but I soon rallied. "The cases are not parallel, Emerson; David is innocent, and we will prove it! Of course he will have to be told sooner or later, but just now he's in a frightful state of nerves; he deserves to enjoy his wedding and—er—and so on, without additional distractions. Surely we can clear this little matter up in a few weeks."
"How?" Ramses demanded with unusual heat. "How can we locate other forgeries unless we admit that that's what we're looking for? Would you care to estimate how many Egyptian antiquities have appeared on the market recently? We don't even know how long this has been going on! If the other forgeries (and yes, we must assume there are others) are as good as this, they'd never be suspected."
    "The scarab is a bit too much," Emerson remarked.
Ramses nodded. "It's a superb piece of work, but the text is so intrinsically preposterous, one can't help wondering if hemeant it as a private joke or a kind of arrogant challenge. The others may not be so easily detectable."
    He had been pacing up and down. Now he stopped by the fireplace and stood looking at an object over the mantelpiece, shielded from heat and smoke by a recessed frame. The little alabaster head of Nefret was one of the first sculptures David had produced after he joined our family. Crude though it was compared with the work he had done since, it was an unnerving reminder of David's unique talent.
The firelight warmed Ramses's thin, impassive brown face. It also illumined the bloodstains on his shirt, the rents left in trousers and coat by the kitten's claws, and the curling locks that fell untidily over his forehead. His hair always curled when it was wet, and the kitten had been busily trying to dry it.
"For pity's sake, go and change, Ramses," I said. "And put the cat back where you got it."
Emerson jumped up. "No time. Here they are. We'll talk about this later. Not a word to anyone at present, is that agreed?"
A beam of light crossed the window and a series of triumphant hoots signaled the safe arrival of the motorcar and its occupants. Emerson started toward the door. Ramses returned the kitten to his pocket.
"Give me the scarab," I said quickly. "I'll put it back in your father's desk."
As I hastened from the room I heard the front door open, the sound of laughter and cheerful voices and, rising over them all, Emerson's hearty shout of greeting: "Salaam aleikhum! Marhaba!"
                                           
 
      Oriental man is keen about the white woman. If he marries her, his standards are such that he soon degrades her; and of course we are not going to allow our wives and sisters and sweethearts to have anything to do with them.
     
     
     “T hank goodness that is over!"
I did not utter the words aloud. The ceremony was not over, and a reverent silence filled the ancient chapel of Chalfont Castle. But the fateful challenge had passed without a response, and they were husband and wife in the eyes of God.
I am not a sentimental person. My best lace-trimmed handkerchief