"You are a poor conspirator, my dear Franz," laughed Mrs. Haxton disagreeably. "If you were really the clever person you think yourself you would know that such a man may leaven the whole crew with his ideas of honor. And, when the pressure comes, he will have an excellent helper in that girl. She, too, should have been left at home. Oh, nonsense! Had you given me the ordering of affairs neither she nor this young down-at-heels aristocrat would be here today. I am not saying this merely to annoy you, as you seem to believe, but to warn you. Be on your guard, Franz. Things are going too smoothly. No great fortune was ever yet won without a hitch or two on the road, and we are not far from the Five Hills now."
They moved away. Dick went back to his pulley, surveyed the deck over the fore yard, and deferred his descent until "Franz" and "Maud" were at the other end of the vessel. Since they came on board they had been "Baron von Kerber" and "Mrs. Haxton" in the presence of others. What desperate game were they playing that demanded these small deceits—what hazard of fortune was it that gave rise to the woman's Cassandra-like forebodings? Von Kerber had been candid enough in the statement he put forward voluntarily at Marseilles. Any one could guess the uncertainties of a quest depending on a document two thousand years old, while its dangers were manifest. Mr. Fenshawe and Irene must be cognizant of the open risks, and it was idle to suppose that they did not appreciate the unobtrusive way in which the yacht was being hurried to her destination. Why, then, should von Kerber and Mrs. Haxton share some secret understanding, the outcome of which was doubtful, and, above all else, why should they fear the influence that a young and unknown man might exercise on the crew?
"Egypt is the land of riddles," mused Dick, as he gazed at the russet and purple hills which spring up so suddenly to guard the strange sea thrust by nature into the bosom of a fiery land. "My best course is to adopt the attitude of the Sphinx. I shall keep my eyes open and say nothing."
He forgot, however, that the chief characteristic of the Sphinx is an enduring patience, and he chafed at the colorless monotony of the next few days. The Aphrodite crept under sail five hundred miles to the south, until the wind died of sheer exhaustion. Then the engines took their turn, and the yacht exchanged the steady roll of a topsail schooner for the quivering uneasiness of a steam-driven ship. But sail or steam, the pace was slow, and the passage of the Red Sea left its record on the smart little vessel in the shape of blistered paint, gaping seams, and planks from which the sweated pitch was no sooner holy-stoned than it oozed forth again to smear their purity. Though stout awnings defied the direct fury of the sun they could not shut out its glare and furnace heat. And the human barometer showed the stress of life. Stump was a caldron in himself, Tagg a bewhiskered malediction in damp linen. The temper of the crew, stifling in crowded quarters, suggested—that they were suffering from a plague of bolls. As a mere pastime, there was an occasional fight in the forecastle. Unhappily for the disputants, Stump had a ready ear for these frays, and he would rush in to settle them with a vigor that left the pugilists prostrate. Then he would recover his caustic humor for half an hour, and regale Royson with yarns of things wot happened when the Bed Sea was reelly hot. This weather was on'y warm. Why, once when he was aboard the Ocean Queen, her bunker gev' out six hours north o' Perim, but he whipped the awnin's off, an' the sun kep' up a head o' steam in the boilers until she ran into port.
The saloon party found existence more endurable. They had adjustable window-shades, and electric fans, and there was a sheltered deck over their heads. So they dozed away the hot hours placidly until the memorable day dawned when Stump, after much close scrutiny of charts, ventured to leave the safe channel down the center of the Red Sea and stand in towards the African coast.
"Massowah!" was on every tongue, and the general listlessness vanished. Soon a dim land-line appeared. It grew into a range of barren mountains, broken by narrow, precipice-guarded valleys. Then a thin strip of flat fore-shore became visible. It deepened into a flat island, barely two miles long, and assumed a habitable aspect. A lighthouse marked a fine harbor. A custom-house, a fort, several jetties, and a town of fairly tall buildings stood clear from a scattered gathering of coral-built Arab houses and hundreds of grass and mat huts. In a word, man had conquered the wilderness, and a busy community had sprung into being between the silent sea and the arid earth.
While the Aphrodite was picking her way cautiously to the anchorage ground, Dick, who was on the bridge with the captain, heard some broken talk between Mr. Fenshawe and the Baron. The latter, with subdued energy, was urging some point which the older man refused to yield. The discussion was keen, and the millionaire betrayed a polite resentment of his companion's views.
"I am sure the Italian authorities will place no obstacle in our way," he declared at last. "When all is said and done, the interest of our trip is mainly archeological. Why should you hold this absurd notion that we may be refused official sanction?"
He spoke emphatically, with unveiled impatience. Dick could not make out the Austrian's reply, but Mr. Fenshawe's next words showed that, whatever the matter in dispute, he had a will of his own, and meant to exercise it.
"It is useless to try to convince me on that head," he exclaimed. "I would turn back this instant rather than act in the way you suggest. You must allow me to follow my original plan. We shall obtain a valid permit from the Governor. If, contrary to my expectation, he refers the final decision to the Italian Foreign Department, we shall await cabled instructions. Our ambassador at Rome can vouch for us. He is an old friend of mine, and I only regret that I did not obey my first impulse and write to him before I left London."