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Updated: May 22, 2025
And as Monny remarked, in neat American slang, we were "right up against it." She thought that, if Antoun and I "put our heads together," maybe we could think of "some way out." So we did, almost literally put our heads together across a table no bigger than a handkerchief, in my cabin: and decided that the visit to Rechid Bey's harem must be made by Brigit and Monny in the late afternoon.
Was Monny Gilder to have been murdered in the dark Sanctuary, or was she to have been kidnapped? Either seemed an impossible undertaking, unless the plotters were willing to face certain detection and arrest. As it was, we had no more tangible proof against the man than we had before, at the House of the Crocodile, in the desert near Medinet, at Asiut, and at Luxor.
Or maybe it's only Monny and Brigit." "Only Monny and Brigit!" In the hope of seeing Antoun, Cleopatra turned her back upon the dreary sanctuary not unwillingly, even though the burning question was left unanswered.
"It's about 'Antoun," Monny went on. "You know I said to you the other night, that perhaps I knew something about him?" "Yes er oh, yes!" We were within a few hundred yards of the Pyramids now. At any instant the camp might burst into sight. "You don't look interested!" "But I am, awfully!" "You're sure you won't tell?" "Dead sure." "Well, then it isn't my business, of course.
I'm almost sure she'll keep her promise and post this letter. If not if he sees it, maybe he will kill me. I believe now he would do anything. But I must run the risk. Do come. Do think of some way to help. "I don't feel I have the right to any other name, for surely as he has a wife I'm not truly married." "Well?" asked Monny, as she saw me finish and fold up the letter.
And since, has had a particularly delicate task intrusted to him, to be conducted with absolute secrecy. No 'kudos' to be got out of it in case of success. And failure would almost certainly have cost his life. It was a question of disguise, and getting at the native heart." "It sounds like something in a story book," said Monny, while Brigit and I kept mum, drinking in gulps of moonlight.
"H'I'll was work for Monsieur Edouard manny tam hon hees boat, hon hees plantation, hon hees 'ouse. When I'll want some leetle money, s'pose those hrat he'll wasn't been prime yet, hall H'I'll need was to go non Monsieur Edouard, hask for those leetle monny. He'll han' it on me, yass, heem, ten dollar, jus' like as heasy Monsieur has gave it me hondred dollar now, yas, heem!" "Yes?
As for the 'H', that's not important. I wonder if we shall meet your Anthony? We think of going to Khartum, don't we, Monny?" "Yes," said the girl, shortly. She was always rather short in her manner at that time when in her opinion her aunt was being "silly." I gathered from a vexed flash in the gray eyes that there had never been any hint of an impending Antony. "Is your friend in Khartum now?"
We had a two-berthed compartment together, and talked most of the night, in low voices; of the mountain; of the legends concerning it, and the papers of the dead Egyptologist Ferlini, which indirectly had brought Fenton into Monny Gilder's life, and given Brigit back to me. There was the out-of-doors breakfast party, too, on the terrace at Shepheard's.
You have a soul, and it told you the secret. Only those who have no souls find the Sphinx heavy or hideous, or utterly beyond their comprehension." "Have I a soul?" Monny asked, dreamily. "Men I've known have told me I haven't. Yet sometimes I've thought I felt it fluttering. And if I have a soul, I shall find it in Egypt. Oh, I shall! Something yes, the Sphinx herself! tells me that."
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