“Do you know exactly where any of the Patriarchs are buried?”
“Not exactly! But I could come near some of them.”
“Do you think you could undertake to find any one of them?” Burton answered slowly and thoughtfully—to this day I can seem to hear the deep vibration of his voice:
“Well, of course I am not quite certain; and I should not like to promise anything in a matter which is, and must be, purely problematical. But I think—yes! I think I could put my hand on Joseph!” As he stopped there and did not seem as though he was going to enlarge on the subject, I said quietly as though to myself:
“There’s nothing new or odd in that!” Burton turned to me quickly:
“Do you know of any one attempting it? Has it been tried before? Do you know the explorer?”
“Yes!” I said, feeling that I was in for it, “but only by name. I cannot claim a personal acquaintance.”
“Who was it?”—this spoken eagerly.
“Mrs. Potiphar!”
The two cynics laughed heartily. The laughter of each was very characteristic. Lord Houghton’s face broadened as though he had suddenly grown fatter. On the other hand Burton’s face seemed to lengthen when he laughed; the upper lip rising instinctively and showing the right canine tooth. This was always a characteristic of his enjoyment. As he loved fighting, I can fancy that in the midst of such stress it would be even more marked than under more peaceful conditions.