THE GAY BARTENDER

Chapter Ninety Seven

havior brought on such a violent,inexcusable breach

common courtesy-”

"Amelia!" Evelyn caught my arm as a roar of rage bu

from the bearded person. “Let us all be calm, and not pro

voke one another.”

“I am not provoking anyone,” I said coolly.

Evelyn exchanged a glance with the young man. As if some message had passed between them, they both moved, the young fellow tugging at his agitated brother, Evely using a gentler but equally firm grip to pull me away. The other visitors were watching us with ill-bred curiosity. One lady pulled her companion out of the room. Another couple followed,leaving a single spectator, an Arab in flowing robes,headcloth,and bright-green goggles,who continued to watch the antics of the incomprehensible foreigners wilt amused contempt.

Rapid footsteps in the hall heralded the arrival of M. Ma pero,who had apparently been alarmed by the uproar When he saw us his pace slowed, and a smile spread orer his face.

"Ah, c'est le bon Emerson. I should have known. You have met one another? You are acquainted?”

lo introduce us,Maspero,I shall fiell youl to the ground!"

are unimportant-a miscellany only.”

voice.“I admire the soft colors of the jewelry.”gold, only

beads and amulets,made of faience,commonas sand.

coral,thehc black-beanded male person had turned his back on us

ma/stones?”

mw he was cavesdropping,however.His brother was not

n mide. The young fellow stood looking shyly at Evelyn,

ant when she asked about the jewelry he started to answer.

he cbullient Maspero anticipated him.

"Mais nom, mademoiselle, they are imitations of coral, mpise, lapis lazuli, made from a colored paste common in

ancient Egypt."

"They are lovely, all the same,” I said. “And the very age

of them staggers the imagination. To think that these beads

sdomed the slim brown wrist of an Egyptian maiden four

thousand years before our Saviour was born!”

Blackbeard whirled around. “Three thousand years,” he comected. “Maspero's chronology, like all his work,is inex-cusably inaccurate!”

Maspero smiled, but I think his next act was prompted to some extent by the annoyance he was too courteous to ex-press directly. Lifting a necklace of tiny blue and coral beads, he handed it to Evelyn with a courtly bow.

“Keep it as a memento of your visit, if you treasure such things.No,no”-he waved away Evelyn's protests-“it is of no consequence; I only regret I have nothing finer for such a charming lady. For you, too, Mademoiselle Peabody”-and another string of beads was pressed into my hand.

“Oh, but-” I began, with an uneasy glance at the black-bearded person, who was shaking like an engine about to

burst.

“Do me the honor,” Maspero insisted. “Unless you fear

the foolish tales of curses and avenging Egyptian ghosts-”

“Certainly not,” I said firmly.

“But what of the curses of M.Emerson?” Maspero asked,

his eyes twinkling. “Regardez-he is about to say unkind

things to me again.”

“Never fear,” Emerson snarled. “I am leaving. I can onlystand so many minutes in this honfor house of yours. God's name, man, why don't you classify your pots?”

He rushed off,pulling his slighter companion with him The young fellow turned his head;his gaze went straight to Evelyn and remained fixed on her face until he had beea removed from the room.

"He has almost the Gallic temperament,"said Maspem admiringly."One observes the magnificence of his rage with respect.”

“I cannot agree with you,” I said. “Who is the fellow?"

“One of your fellow countryman, dear lady, who has in-terested himself in the antiquities of this country. He has done admirable work excavating, but I fear he does not ad. mire the rest of us. You heard his abuse of my poor mu seum. He abuses my excavation methods with the same ardor.But,indeed,there is no archaeologist in Egypt who has been spared his criticism.”

“I don't care to speak of him,” I said, with a sniff.

“We think your museum is fascinating, M. Maspero," Evelyn added tactfully. “I could spend days here.”

We spent several hours more inspecting the exhibits. I would not have said so for the world, but I felt a certaim sympathy for the odious Emerson's criticisms.The exhibils Were not arranged as methodically as they might have been, and there was dust everywhere.

Evelyn said she was too tired to go down to the boat that day, so we took a carriage back to the hotel. She was pen sive and silent during the drive; as we neared Cairo, I saib slyly,

Mr.Emerson's young brother does not have the farmily

tempet,I believe.Did you happen to hear his name?”

“Walter," said Evelyn, and blushed betrayingly.

very pleasant. Perhaps we will

hotel.”

again at the

them

meet

“Oh, no, they do not stay Shepheard's. Walt-Mr

at money all goes

Walter Emerson explained to me that theirfor excavation. His brother is not supported by any institu-tion or museum;he has only a small yearly income and, as walter says, if he had the wealth of the Indies he would consider it insufficient for his purposes.”

“You seem to have covered quite a lot of ground in a very short time,"I said,watching Evelyn out of the corner of my eye."It is a pity we can't continue the acquaintance with the younger Mr.Emerson,and avoid his insane brother.”

“I daresay we shall not meet again,” Evelyn said softly. I had my own opinion on that score.

In the afternoon, after a rest, we went to shop for medical supplies. The guidebooks advise travelers to carry a consid-erable quantity of medicines and drugs, since there are no doctors south of Cairo. I had copied the list of suggested remedies from my guide, and was determined to do the thing properly. If I had not been a woman, I might have studied medicine; I have a natural aptitude for the subject, possess-ing steady hands and far less squeamishness about blood and wounds than many males of my acquaintance. I planned to buy a few small surgical knives also; I fancied I could am-putate a limb-or at least a toe or finger-rather neatly if called upon to do so.

Our dragoman,Michael, accompanied us. I thought he seemed quieter than usual, but I was occupied with my list: blue pills, calomel, rhubarb, Dover's powder, James's powder, carbolic acid, laudanum, quinine, sulfuric acid, ipecacuanha. ...It was Evelyn who asked Michael what the trouble was. He hesitated, looking at us in turn.

“It is my child, who is ill,” he said finally. “She is only a girl-child, of course.'

The faltering of his voice and his troubled countenance betrayed a paternal emotion that contradicted the words, so I modified what had begun as an indignant comment into an offer of assistance.MichaelI protested, but it was clear that he would welcome our help. He led us to his home.

It was a narrow old house with the intricately carved halconies that are typical of Old Cairo. It seemed to me appallingly dirty,but compared with the squalor and we had seen elsewhere,it could have been worse. sickroom where the child lay was dreadful. The woo shutters were closely barred, lest evil spirits enter to he the child further, and the stench was frightful. I cou scarcely see the small sufferer, for the only illuminaton came from a clay lamp filled with smoking fat, with a wa of twisted cloth. My first move, therefore, was togo to e windows and throw them open.

A wavering shriek of protest arose from the women hud. dled on the floor. There were six of them, clad in douty black and doing nothing that I could see except add to the contamination of the air and keep the child awake by ther endless wailing. I evicted them. The child's mother I m lowed to remain. She was a rather pretty little thing, wia great black eyes, and was herself,I suspected,not more tha fifteen years of age.

Careless of her dainty gingham skirts, Evelyn was already seated on the floor by the pallet where the child lay. Gemly she brushed the tangled black curls from its face and de lodged a cluster of flies swarming around its eyes. mother made a gesture of protest, but subsided after a frig ened glance at me. Evelyn and I had already had cause to horrified at the way these people allow insects to infest eyes of the children; I had seen pitiful infants so beset fies that they looked as if they were wearing black goge If they attempted to brush the stinging, filthy creatures aw the mothers slapped their hands.One sees tiny children have already lost the sight of one or both eyes through dreadful custom; and, of course, infant mortality is tremely high.One authority claims that three children out five die young.

I looked at Michael's agonized face, and at the flushe face of the small sufferer,and I decided this was one chil that would not succumb if I could help it.How fortunate th we had just come from purchasing medical supplies!

The cause of the child's illness was not hard to discover.