“We’re going aboard our ship,” said my uncle, shortly. “You’re welcome to come along, my man, an’ stay till mornin’.”
The stranger accepted the invitation with alacrity and we started again for the quay, which was reached without farther incident. Our boat was waiting and we were soon rowed where the Seagull was anchored and climbed aboard.
Under the clear light of the cabin lamp we looked at the person we had rescued with natural curiosity, to find a slender man, with stooping shoulders, a red Van Dyke beard, bald head and small eyes covered with big spectacles. He was about forty years of age, wore European clothes somewhat threadbare and faded in color, and his general appearance was one of seedy respectability.
“Gentlemen,” said he, sitting in an easy chair and facing the attentive group before him, “I am Professor Peter Pericles Van Dorn, of the University of Milwaukee.”
I had never heard of such a university; but then, Milwaukee is a good way inland. Neither had any of us before heard the name so unctuously announced; though we were too polite to say so, and merely nodded.
“It will please me,” continued the Professor, “to be informed of your station and the business that has brought you to Egypt.”
My uncle laughed and looked at me quizzically, as if inviting me to satisfy the stranger. Captain Steele scowled, resenting the implied impertinence. The only others present were Archie and Ned Britton.
I told Van Dorn we were a merchant ship from Boston, and had casually touched at the port of Alexandria to unload some wares belonging to Mr. Ackley, who was going to ship his property to Luxor and deliver it to merchants there.
“What sort of wares?” demanded the stranger.
“Scarabs, funeral figures, and copies of antique jewelry,” replied Archie, a bit uneasily.