"When Captain Stump protested—before he had seen you, remember—against ladies accompanying us, the Baron said that without you the expedition could not proceed."
"Exactly. That is another bit of unconvincing accuracy. Mrs. Haxton has always been an essential part of the scheme. I am here solely because I did not think Mr. Fenshawe should be allowed to go alone—alone in the sense that these people were strangers to him, while he was spending many thousands of pounds for their very great benefit. There, again, I find myself in a sort of verbal cul de sac. Under other circumstances I should be delighted to take part in an adventure of this kind. Grandad promised me two years ago that we should pass the present winter in Upper Egypt. Unhappily, Mrs. Haxton introduced von Kerber to him at a place in the Highlands where we were invited for the shooting. The instant he heard of the legend on that wretched scrap of paper all his old enthusiasm for exploration work revived, and he has followed their plans blindly ever since."
"I hope you will forgive me if I express a somewhat contrary opinion, Miss Fenshawe," said Royson. "Your grandfather did not hesitate to run counter to the Baron's wishes to-day, for instance."
"Oh, that is nothing. Of course, with his experience of Egypt, he takes the lead in such matters. What I want you to believe is this: Mrs. Haxton, and not von Kerber, found that papyrus, or it came into her hands by some means. She is the originator of the scheme. She sought to be included in our friend's party at Glengarloch with the set object of meeting grandad, whose interest in archeology is known to all the world. She did not come across von Kerber by accident, but produced him at the right moment. He is not a casual friend, met in Cairo, as she pretends, but a man whom she has known for years. And, last in a list of guessings which I know to be true, they both fear some discovery, or interruption, or danger not revealed to us, which may prevent them from obtaining the wealth they hope to gain. They are desperately poor, Mr. Royson. They have mortgaged their credit to its utmost extent to enable them to keep up appearances, and they dread some catastrophe which will interfere with our search, though the only authority we have for the existence of the Roman legion's loot is a scrap of scarcely decipherable writing, which, though genuine enough, may be nothing better than a madman's dream."
"Have you told Mr. Fenshawe these things?" asked Dick. His pledged word to von Kerber interposed an awkward barrier against that complete confidence which he would gladly have given to one who had so curiously amplified his own doubts.
"Yes, everything, but he only laughs, and bids me remember that I am not yet twenty. He says that there are stranger things buried beneath the dust of Egypt than all the learned societies have succeeded in revealing. He is quite content that the cruise of the Aphrodite should be a wild-goose chase so long as the evidence of the papyrus is proved to be false. And that is my chief stumbling-block. Perhaps you do not realize that, to an antiquarian, the search yields as keen pleasure as the find. The cost of this expedition is a matter of no consequence to my grandfather, and I repeat that, under other conditions, I should regard it as a most enjoyable and memorable excursion. But these two people have made me nervous, and that is why I was determined they should not get rid of you at Suez, because I felt that I could trust you with my doubts and fears, and look to you for help should an emergency arise. Otherwise, Mr. Fenshawe and I would be at their mercy."
"You can count on me to the end," said Royson earnestly, "but I would ask you not to forget that the officers and crew are all Englishmen, and, from what I have seen of them, they would never lend themselves to any undertaking which meant actual treachery to their employers."
"That, of course, is excellent so far as it goes," was the tart response, "but I am also aware that our enterprising Baron has very adroitly bound all of you to secrecy, and exacted a promise of faithfulness to his interests. The result is that not even you, Mr. Royson, told me anything about the attack made on him at Marseilles—"
This counter-stroke was unexpected, and Royson glanced at her with some degree of embarrassment.
"He persuaded us that if the incident came to your knowledge it might alarm you needlessly," he broke in, "and that sounded quite reasonable."