Prologue

Editor’s Note

Many sources were used to produce a dramatic narrative, cobbled together to form a single story line from various points of view. The editor feels the effect is worth the effort and not without its benefits. The noted archeologist, Dr. Virginia Jones, nee Smithson, took copious noted, complete with photographs and illustrations. This panache for detail is evident in her personal journals. These journals date back to her childhood. For the necessity of the narrative, only the volumes relating to the spring and autumn of 1902 were relied upon.
The narrative is also intertwined with the journals of beloved children’s author, Charlotte Penn, who wrote such classics as The Young Ladies Illustrated Primer and Unsuitable for Children of All Ages. The editor believes Ms. Penn’s own voice offers clarification on certain events and insight into apparent oversights in Dr. Jones’ journal. It is especially amusing when the narratives disagree on the how and why certain events took place.
When applicable, the writing of Josephine Bailey-Smythe has been included.



Prologue: In which we have an exciting adventure in Egypt and learn the dangers of foreign lands and the reasons why traveling abroad is not suitable for young ladies.


Cairo
April 1902

The pyramids emerged from the purple haze of the horizon through the train window. The breath caught in Virginia’s throat. A grimy layer of dust clung to the outside of the window. Vanessa had her nose pressed firmly against the glass.
"Is that the great pyramid of Khufu?" Vanessa asked, tugging on Uncle Jack’s sleeve.
Arriving in the port of Alexandria earlier that morning, the girls were ushered too quickly from boat to train for the foreignness of Egypt to sink in. The train was like any train Virginia had been on, only this one the attendants were dressed in crisp white gahabeyas.
"That’s Giza," Jack said. "Welcome to the ancient and mysterious land of Egypt." Jack slouched into the plush seat of the carriage, tugging his hat down over his face. He closed his eyes.
Virginia kept her eyes of the pyramids. It was as if veils of time were a bit thin and she could reach out and pluck the pyramids off the horizon, hold time in her hands. That moment sealed her fate. Egypt would be all she could talk about, think about, read and write about.
Virginia and her younger sister Vanessa were traveling with her uncle, Jack. An outbreak of cholera in London had orphaned the sisters and left Jack their sole guardian.
He seemed to be a bit perplexed what to do with a pair of young girls. Uncle Jack was not a stranger but he had spent most of his life abroad, an archeologist, and had little patience for the civilized confines of London. Virginia had only even seen London. Her parents owned a drapery shop. When Uncle Jack did visit, it was with exciting present, exotic sweets, and thrilling tales of his adventures. He always seemed bigger than the room itself, as if the mere walls could not possibly hope to hold the force of his personality. His voice boomed. He always smelled of sandalwood and tobacco. The house smelled of the foreign cigars he smoked. He smelled of places other than London and lands other than England.
Jack never stayed long, claiming the damp got to his chest, gave him a cough and he was off with a great swirl of activity. The house held it’s breath after his departure, unsure if it was truly vacant of the man, expecting one more burst of excitement.
"Don’t know what I’ll do with you, kid," Jack said, when he arrived at the boarding school to assume guardianship of the Smithson sisters. "A few public schools have been recommended to me…"
"There’s nothing in the public schools that I want," Virginia said, raising her chin. They were seated in the Headmistress’ office with a plate of biscuits and three cups of cold tea. Tea was an expression of sympathy and the school’s sympathy was as cold and flat as the brackish tea.
Jack took a sip and flinch. "What do you want?" he asked, setting the cup back down on the table.
"I want to be an archeologist, like you. I can already read and write in Latin and Greek…"
Jack laughed. "Suppose I could do with an assistant, now that I think about it."
Virginia and Vanessa were to stay with Jack for the time being, until they could find a school suitable for girls of their outstanding character.
The train steamed into the station. Virginia moved for the door. Jack positioned himself between the girls and the door.
"Some rules," he said. "Don’t wander from me. Cairo is a large city and the roads are not labeled or marked. You will get lost." Jack gathered his coat and case and continued to receipt his rules, "People will offer to help you, don’t believe them. They will rob you. Don’t buy anything. Don’t eat anything. Don’t drink anything..."
As they departed the train, "Don’t touch anything. Do not leave my eyesight. If you are further away from me than the length of my arm, I will send you packing back to the most horrid school I can find. Do not explore any buildings, alleys, or anything interesting structure. Do not leave my side."
Jack motioned for a man on the platform. "Have these delivered to the Mena Hotel." Coins transfer hands.
"Where are we going?" Virginia asked.
"I have a meeting in the suk. You may come if you follow the rules."
"No touching, buying, eat, drinking," Vanessa recited.
"That’s the general idea," Jack said.
A brisk walk through the dusty streets brought them to the bazaar, the suk. It was a narrow street lined with shop fronts, each with a bench outside. Some small booths were set up, clothe canopies blocking the sun. Other goods were humbly spread on a blanket on the ground. The suk was filled with sound and the activities of life. Exotic smells she could not name drifted from cafes. Vendors announced their wares, "Shoes! Pretty shoes for a pretty girl!"
Virginia’s head turned at every booth and every promise of splendid goods. Jack had a firm grasp on her hand and dragged her along.
Jack paused in front of a plain façade building. He motioned to the bench. "Sit here and wait for me."
The girls dutifully sat.
"Good," he said and vanished inside the building.
Virginia sat next to Vanessa, hands folded calmly in her lap.
"Do you know any Arabic?" Virginia asked.
"No, do you?"
"Not yet."
Women walked back in dark burkas, completely covered head to foot. Baskets balanced delicately on their heads. Men hustled by in dazzling white gahabeyas. Tourists rode by on donkeys being lead by young boys, their shoes saved from the dirt of Cairo. The crowds parted for the Europeans.
Virginia slapped her arm were a fly landed. There seemed to be an inordinate amount of insects.
A faint ringing sounded in her ear. Virginia absently tugged on her ear lobe but the sounds grew stronger.
The sunlight was warm on her head. She wished she had thought of a parasol or a hat at least. Her skin would turn red and burn.
Down the market, Virginia saw a booth shielded from the sun by blue cloth. The ringing seemed to increase.
Vanessa tugged on her hand. "Uncle said we were to wait here."
"I’ll be right back. I’m just going there." Virginia pointed to her destination. "You can wait here."
Virginia floated through the crowded and seemed to arrive at the booth.
Blue cloth covered the booth from the sun. The fabric billowed in the breeze. Shade covered the table and the goods. Inside a woman knelt behind the low table, covered head to toe in a black burka.
Wooden boxes or all shapes and sizes covered the table. Some were ornate. Some were plain carved wood. Some had paste jewels glued to the surface.
"Pick one," the woman said in easy English. The veil completely hide if face. Only her eyes showed above the black cloth.
Fingertips light brushed the tops of the boxes. Near the back was a wooden box small enough to rest easily in the palm of her hand. On the lid was an Egyptian looking symbol of a woman’s figure with a raven’s head. Virginia did not recognize the form from any scholarly book and felt compelled to hold the box.
The box was surprisingly heavy. Virginia lifted the lid.
Inside an amulet rested on stiff white linen. It was a golden disk with a large blue stone off center of the disk, like the sun a moment before an eclipse. On the lid were markings she could not read and a spiraling path, lightly engraved.
"How much for this one?" Virginia asked. She had some vague idea that battering was the method of purchase.
"That one chooses who it belongs to, it can not be purchased or sold."
"I can have it?"
A loud shout erupted from the bazaar. "Virginia! Where is that blast girl!"
Virginia folded her hand over the amulet. The stone was warm to the touch. "Thank you for your kindness."
"Kindness has nothing to do with it, sitt. There is always a prize."
"Virginia Smithson! So help me…"
Virginia stuffed the amulet into a pocket and exited the tent. "Here I am!" she shouted with a wave.
Jack and Vanessa were in the middle of the street. Vanessa seemed to be cowering away from Jack as he bellowed. The merchants stared in a mortified awe, not sure how to appease the man who gathered thunder and lighting at his feet.
"Oh, good, there you are, my girl." Jack smiled and the thunder and clouds gathering at his feet disappeared from his countenance.
"Can we go to the museum?" Virginia asked.
"Do you know how many rules you just broke?"
"I didn’t touch, buy, eat or drink anything."
Jack frowned, as if calculating how thorough the rules would have to be in the future. "Maybe tomorrow."
Jack escorted the girls to the Mena Hotel. The hotel was in Giza village, on the other side of the Nile from Cairo, but at the foot of the Giza plateau and on the edge of the pyramids.
Virginia was enthralled by the view from her room. "If I sleep this way," she said, lying on the bed to demonstrate, "the pyramids will be the first things I see in the morning."
"When can we go?" Vanessa asked.
"Can we go inside?" Virginia asked.
"Can we climb it?"
"Can we climb it to the top?"
"Can we?"
"Can we?" The girls begged in unison.
Jack motioned for silence with his hands. "Tomorrow. There is plenty of time tomorrow. I suggest you bath and get the dust off yourself and prepare for dinner."
Virginia nearly protested that she was not dirty but she knew she was covered in dust from the train and walking through the city. The day had been warm and humid. Her skin felt sticky and the dust clung to her. Her face was red and dry. She could do with a bath. Plenty of time to climb all over creation tomorrow.

The Smithsons dined on the terrace of Mena House, a European hotel on the edge of the Giza plateau. The lobby was filled with plush velvet sedans and potted palms and bellboys dashing about in crisp starched uniforms. The suite of rooms was well appointed and had the largest tub Virginia had ever seen. It was a beautiful building but all the luxury and the crisply dressed attendant paled in comparison to the view from the terrace. The hotel offered breath-taking views of the pyramids.
The stones seemed luminescent in the moonlight. The pyramids actually appeared larger in the night sky. They loomed, gathering the sky to their sun warmed stones, demanding to be the only view. The torch of a tourist taking a moonlight stroll and their guide, helping with the progression over the large stones, occasionally disturbed the placid, eternal face of the pyramids.
"When can we go to the pyramids?"’ Virginia asked, absently pushing the remainder of her meal around the plate. Mutton. Stringy and covered in mint jelly. She thought the food in Egypt would have been more exotic than what was served at home in London.
"Finish your food. It’s blast expensive."
"Can I have a soda and whiskey?" Vanessa asked. She dramatically shoved the last of the mutton into her mouth.
"No."
"Buh I finished muh dinnuh!" Her mouth still filled with mutton.
"Eleven is too young to develop a habit of drinking spirits."
"I’m mature for muh age," Vanessa protested, swallowing the last of her meal.
Jack opened his mouth as if he was about to set Vanessa straight about the matter when a man in a finely tailored evening jacket approached the table.
"Smithson," the man said. His hair was slicked back with too much pomade, shinning with a greasy intensity.
"Virginia," jack said evenly. "Perhaps now would be a good time for you two girls to take that stroll you were wanting. Just through the gardens."
"Can we go to the pyramids?"
"Can I have an ice cream?" Vanessa asked.
"If there’s a man selling ice cream in the gardens, certainly. But no pyramids. They’re not safe in the light let alone in the dark." Jack did not take his eyes off the stranger. Both of his hands were placed flat on the table, on either side of the white porcelain dish.
Virginia grabbed Vanessa hand and pulled her away from the table.
"Don’t leave the gardens," Jack reiterated. "No pyramids!"
"Charming girls," the man said. "I did not know you had children."
"My nieces. My brother and his wife had the misfortune to pass from the typhoid over the winter."
"Such a tragedy. Shame to bring those charming girls into such danger…"
"What do you want, Lemark."
Virginia was too far away from the table to hear Lemark’s reply. The noise of the other dinners over took the quite, guarded conversation.
The gardens of the Mena House were darkened, punctuated with the light of the occasional torch. During the day it was a charming walk with hedges, roses, and benches under trellises. At night it was filled with darkened corners and secluded nooks.
Vanessa ran down the stair of the terrace into the dark of the garden.
"Wait! You’ll get lost!" Virginia raced down the steps after her sister.
The pink of Vanessa’s pinafore fluttered softly into the darkness, leaving the safety of the warm glow of the hotel. Where the dress had been left a faintly glowing pink residue. Virginia pointed herself in that direction.
The garden was dark. The moonlight seemed to have given all its illumination to the pyramids in the distance. The path was indistinguishable from the shadows. Fingers from her right hand lightly brushed her hedges, giving her some sort of guide.
"Vanessa!"
No answer. Probably playing a game of hide and seek.
The drone of insects and gravel crunching under foot.
A giggle seemingly from around an invisible corner. A foot shuffling through the gravel, trying to move cautiously.
"I’m not playing a game," she warned.
More giggling and then the sound of clothe falling to ground.
The garden suddenly seemed to grow darker.
Strong hands grabbed her by both arms and lifted her off the ground. Another hand from seemingly nowhere clamped over her mouth.
"If you scream, we’ll slit your throat and you adorable little sister’s throat, too," a voice warned.
A strongly smelling cloth was placed over her nose and mouth.
She couldn’t even see the darkness that claimed her consciousness.
Virginia awoke to darkness. Struggling and shaking furiously, Virginia came to the conclusion that she was bound hand and foot, tied behind her back, and had a bag over her head.
"Virginia?" a timid voice said in the darkness.
"Vanessa!"
"You didn’t say anything and you just laid there for the longest time," she said, sobs punctuating her words. Her breathing was ragged and shallow. "I was…I was afraid you were…"
"I’m okay," Virginia said in her best impersonation of a calm adult. She didn’t feel calm and could only imagine the cool control an adult would have in the situation.
She could hear Vanessa crying, little sobs that stole away her breath and ached in her chest.
"Don’t cry," Virginia said, still impersonating.
"I can’t help it. I’m so scared."
"Me too," she said quietly. What would Jack do in this situation? Jack wouldn’t have been wandering in a dark garden at night.
Jack told them to wandering in the dark garden at night!
Virginia had no idea what to do.
"I always thought we were brave," Vanessa said quietly.
"We are brave."
"But I’m scared."
A loud thump came from somewhere outside the room they were in. In theory, there was a guard just outside the door. It always happened that way in the novels Virginia read. The heroes always thought of a clever way to escape their bonds and usually burn down the building in the process of escaping. First things first, stop Vanessa crying.
"Being brave doesn’t mean you’re never scared," Virginia said. "It means doing what you have to do even when you’re scared."
"What are we going to do?"
"Get out of here." Virginia arched her back and scooted her hands under the bottom. The process was not as easy as she initially thought. Joints ached with the effort of bending backwards.
The other side of the door was quiet for a minute. Virginia could hear the breathing of one man outside the door. Their captors were not expecting a great resistance from two girls.
"My hands are tied." Virginia asked, relaxing her muscles and breathing deeply from the effort.
"Mine, too."
"You don’t happen to have a knife or anything of that nature on your person, do you?"
"I’m not Cyril," Vanessa replied tartly, referring to their cousin.
"One problem at a time, sister dear." Virginia twisted with the effort of passing her bound hands under her bottom. "I need my hands in front of me to do anything productive." Her arms felt as if they were being ripped from their sockets. Success. She had passed the first hurdle with her hands over her bottom but still behind her legs. Now, just to go over the feet and she could then worry about getting untied.
Voices from the other side of the door. Both girls fell quiet.
"Did he have the…" voice muffled. It sounded gruff, vaguely American.
"Of course not, that tricky Jack, but no worries. We got a pair of the sweetest little things all tied up. Jack will be real keen on getting them back."
"Hostages?" the American asked.
"He’ll think twice about cheating us out of our fair share."
"We don’t plan on doing business with him again, do we? Let’s just get our money and get out of this sandy country."
"We’ll get our money, all right, don’t you worry about that."
"I need to ride back to Cairo. Thank you can handle two little girls? And none of your little games."
"Don’t worry about me. Concentrate on getting our money from that rat."
The American seemed to have a light step. A door closed. The other man thundered his way across the floor and set himself down heavily in the chair.
Virginia tucked her knees into her chest and willed her arms to be longer as she pulled her arms out and around, over her feet. She had read about this maneuver in a Burton book, one her parents would be appalled to know she read. She practiced what it would be like to have her wrists tied, the contorting and stretching needed, and not sure she could really do manage the feat.
Her shoulders ached, as if they were being ripped out of their sockets. She breathed in deeply, willing her herself to be smaller, to allow the hands to pass over her ankles and toes.
The effort caused her to fall to her side. The sound of wood scrapping against a stone floor. Her body fell against a leg of the table and moved the object somewhat. The corner dug into her back but she did not care. Her hands were in front of her person.
Loud banging on the door. "Don’t do anything clever in there!"
Virginia wiggled her way back up into a sitting position. She tucked her head down and caught at the hood with her fingers. The hood came off with an easy pull.
The room was filled with wonderful things.
The weak light of one lantern glinted over golden surfaces. It was the inner chamber of a royal burial, a tomb, and find of a lifetime. Alabaster jars glowed with milky transparency. Canoptic jars with animal head shaped lids. Shadows cast cruel expressions on the faces of statues. The eyes of a pharaoh watched from his golden sarcophagus.
"Oh!" Virginia said, unable to formulate the proper response. Her heart didn’t feel as if it were beating.
"What is it?"
"Come here and let me pull your hood off."
The sound of some small struggle and then, "Oh! Are they real?"
Virginia shook her head. The treasures were undoubtedly fakes, beautiful fakes. Or she was in the cache of tomb robbers. Maybe a bit of both.
"Probably not," Virginia said. "If the artifacts were real, they’d be sold and in a rich man’s collection by now."
"It’s beautiful."
In the middle of the room was a heavy wooden table covered with pieces of stone and various hammer and different sized chisels. Fake. Manufactured right in this room. By the men outside the door? Possibly. Or perhaps the real occupants of this building were forced out with as much apology the same way Virginia and Vanessa was forced in.
Virginia wriggled her wrists, trying to play with the give in the rope. Perhaps she could slip her slender…delicate boned wrists…though the knots…No such luck. There was no give in the rope, no slack to play with. She must have the heavy wrists of a farm hand.
"Can you slip your hands through your bonds?"
"How?" Vanessa asked.
"Tuck your thumb in and force the rope?"
Some moments of Vanessa struggling and finally, "No. I must have the wrists of big boned farmhand."
"Must run in the family. What we need is tool."
Virginia hobbled over to the table and pulled herself up with her arms. In the weak lantern light, she was able to discern the shape of a small handsaw. Trying to her way through the ropes with that monster would leave her wrists a bloody mess. No, there was a better way.
The worktable was covered with various sharp-ended implements. She could hold on in her mouth and try to gouge her way through the rope. No, the hand saw might be better. If only her wrists were a bit smaller or the rope looser and able to squeeze her way out.
At the far end of the table was a small tin canister. Virginia disregarded it at first, the label being in Arabic, but the illustration was of a bee.
Virginia lifted the canister with the tips of her fingers and easily smelled the aroma of wax. Beeswax. Fingernails pried at the edge of the lid.
The lid fell to the floor, clattering loudly.
Virginia quickly threw herself on the lid to muffle the sound.
The door opened with a bang. The figure of a man was illuminated against the darkness. "What all this then?"
"You have a poor concept of hospitality towards your guests," Vanessa said. She tried to stand up, wobbling unsteadily on bound feet, and fell over noisily into the table.
Virginia crept backwards towards the darkness.
"No water, no food, not even a comfortable chair," Vanessa continued.
The man spat on the ground. "You’re lucky your throat is not slight. And I recommend not bumping the inventory or I’ll take the damages out of your hide."
"You can’t turn over damaged hostages," Virginia said.
A menacing grin spread over the man’s face. "You’re only good to me alive, my dear. I don’t particularly care what kind of condition your health may be in."
"Jack won’t bargain with you!" Virginia shouted angrily.
"You’ve no idea what Jack is capable of."
The man leaned in close to Virginia’s face. He smelled sickly and of sugar. "You’ve idea what I’m capable of, lovie, and you really don’t want to find out." A finger lifted her chin and forced her to look him directly in the eyes. The smiled was a field of broken and yellowed teeth.
"You’re a fighter," he said. "Makes breaking you all the more pleasant."
The door slammed behind as the man left, leaving the room with only the thin light of the lone lantern.
Virginia shuffled towards the fallen canister of bee’s wax. Using her fingertips, she liberally scooped and applied to the ropes and her wrists. Soon enough lubrication was applied to allow even the largest of big boned farmhand wrists to slide from captivity with ease.
Working quickly, Virginia took the handsaw and cut through the bounds on her feet. She then liberated Vanessa.
"We need to get out of here," Virginia said, stating the obvious.
Nessa nodded and added, "If there was a window here, we could just climb through that."
"This is a workshop producing illegal antiquities. There are no windows because they do not want anyone to peer through and see something they’d regret. We have to go outside through the other room."
"What do we do about that man?" Nessa asked.
"We’ll need a distraction."
"How do we get back to Giza?"
"He must have a horse outside, how else did he get here? We need to be outside first, then we worry about transportation."
"Water?"
"I don’t know."
The girls stood at either side of the large table. Virginia scanned the items, looking for what could be best wielded as a weapon. How could two girls barely over five feet tall hope to muscle their way past a grown man? Not by brute force. Even with a weapon, they did not have the strength or height to inflict serious damage. They needed to act soon, before the American returned. Their best chance was now that their guard was alone.
"How about a chisel?" Nessa asked. She demonstrated with a series of short, violent stabs.
Virginia’s stomach twisted with unease. When it came down to it, she really did not want to use brute force and violence. If there was a way just to sneak by quietly without being noticed…
The man burst through the door. "Girls, how about we play a little game…What are you doing!"
In one sweeping movement of her arm, Virginia threw the lantern at the man. Glass shattered and the oil spread of her person, soaking into his clothes quickly and turning him into a giant wick. His fire illuminated the room harshly with jerking movements and a shrill screech.
Virginia’s feet were transfixed. It was a horrible sight and a horrid smell of burnt hair and burning flesh.
The man moved towards her. Virginia could do nothing to escape his fiery grasp.
A chair flew in his path. The table over turned, tools clattering to the floor noisily, breaking the spell.
Virginia grabbed Nessa’s hand and pulled her quickly through the room, towards the open door.
The man thrashed in the room, knocking over statues, sarcophagus, jars, and other forged treasures.
Smoke followed their flight.
The building appeared to have only two rooms. Fleeing into the cool night was easy.
Outside in the clean air, the screams and cries of the man filled the night.
"We should help him," Nessa said.
"No, he would only hurt us for hurting him."
Virginia turned from the house and inspected their surroundings. There was no horse waiting patiently outside the house as she hoped. No means of transportation. The pyramids, an obvious landmark, had disappeared into the night. They must be many miles from the Mena Hotel and from their uncle.
"Where are we?"
"I don’t know." There seemed to be no stars in the sky, as if a great structure was imposing itself between her and the sky. There were some lights in the distance. The stone amulet, which hung around her neck, seemed to grow warm in a comforting manner. A village, perhaps, where they could find help.
"How do you feel about walking?" Virginia asked.
"We can’t stay here."
"No, the other man may come back soon."
Virginia and Nessa walked in the direction of the village lights. Vaguely she was aware that the large structure blacking all the light from the sky is the Great Pyramid. They must be on the far side of the pyramid. Her legs ached. The smoke in the house left her throat dry and she coughed, trying to breathe through the dust their steps were kicking up.
A hissing sound permeated the air.
"What’s that noise?" Nessa asked.
The hissing sound grew louder. The ground gave way beneath Virginia’s feet. She was sinking fast into the sand.
"Nessa!" She was up to her waist. Struggling seemed to speed the process alone. The hissing sound of millions of granules of sand moving downward was deafening.
Nessa grabbed Virginia’s hand but her grasped slipped. "Don’t leave me!" Nessa cried.
Virginia could not see. Dust and sand clouded her visions. She squeezed her eyes shut. Nessa pulled at Virginia’s hands but she could not be moved from the sand. Breathing grew harder. Her lungs ached for dust free air. Nessa’s shouts grew faint, masked by the hissing of the sands.
Encased in the sand, she was warm. The night air had been cold.
A strong hand grasped her wrist and pulled her upward, away from the sand. The sands released her from its grasp, depositing her back on more solid ground, sputtering from breath.
"There are sink holes all over the plateau," a masculine voice said. A canteen was pressed to her lips. "Drink. Good." Virginia did as she was told and drank the clean water.
"The Englizi excavate," the voice said, "dig holes and then abandon them after a season. The sites fill in with sand in a year or two, which is no time at all to the desert. She is intent on reclaiming all her mysteries."
Her vision cleared as tears cleaned the dust from her eyes. A soft cloth dabbed at the corners of her eyes. The voice speaking belong to a boy only a few years her senior, perhaps. He was handsome in a dark manner with dark eyes, thick lashes, and a smile that illuminated his face.
"Who are you," Virginia asked.
"I am here to escort you back to your home." He stood from where he had been crouching next to her. A strong hand lifted Virginia to her feet. He was surprisingly tall. "We do not have much time before your captors learn of your escape. They are not kind men."
"Did Jack send you?"
"I was sent," he said, offering neither confirmation nor denial. "Please, quickly."
Nessa was given her own horse to ride: a bareback mare. Virginia was told to wrap her arms around him tightly.
They rode in silence for some time before her rescuer spoke. "You are very courageous," he said. "I will honor you by taking you as my first wife."
Virginia smiled. Only a few years older than herself, maybe fifteen or sixteen, he was already a man according to Egypt’s customs. "I am flattered," she said, "but surely I am too young."
"You are a woman in my people’s eyes. Womanhood has already arrived for you." He said this as a matter of fact.
Virginia felt herself blush. She was thankful it was dark and she was behind him on the horse. Her arms clasped around his waist. His back provided a solid support to lean against. She said, "I am still a child in the eyes of my people."
She could feel him chuckle. "Then they underestimate you. A child could not have freed herself from that house in such a…fiery manner."
"You were there!"
"For some of the evening."
"Why didn’t you help us!"
"You seemed to be doing just fine on your own."
The lights of the Mena Hotel appeared. The horse stopped just outside the radius of the light from the terrace. Dawn was washing the western front of the building in a soft pink glow. Virginia was lowered to the ground before she knew what was happening.
"Are you going to be upset with me, Virginia Smithson?" He smiled broadly, white teeth gleaming in a mischievous light of dawn.
Virginia felt a lump untie itself in her stomach. "I don’t even know your name."
"But I know you, Light of Makr. I will return when your people believe you to be a suitable age to marry."
He bent downward and kissed her forehead. The horse reared back, kicked its forelegs, and took off at a gallop.
Nessa tugged at her sleeve. "Are your knees quivering? I believe mine would quiver at this moment."
"I need to sit down for a bit," Virginia said. She sank to her knees in the sand, watching his figure recede. The thief had managed to run away with her breath.