At first he had hardly been taken seriously, for he looked such a fool. Later it was thought that because he looked such a fool it might be worth while to help him to part with his money; and finally it was discovered that he was not such a fool as he looked. The money he proposed to find was to be mostly other people’s, those other people being likely to be persuaded by the fact that the money would appear to be mostly his own. He had promised to send somebody out to Egypt to investigate, and now, quietly and without any apparent pretext other than that of his honeymoon, he had come himself.
Three or four days after the Bindanes’ arrival a thirty hours’ excursion up the river was planned, the party consisting of the bridal couple, Lady Muriel, Lady Smith-Evered, Rupert Helsingham, and Professor Hyley, the Egyptologist. The Pyramid of Meidûm, some fifty miles upstream from Cairo, was the objective; and it was proposed to start at noon, to moor for the night near the village of Meidûm, to ride over to the ruins on the following morning, and to make the return journey to Cairo during the afternoon and evening.
Muriel boarded the steamer when the time came with keen interest hidden under a casual exterior. For her it was to be a sort of trial run: she was going to study the romantic possibilities of the Nile. If the trip provided opportunities for Rupert Helsingham to make love to her, in which direction his recent actions had begun to point, she would try to arrange further excursions, perhaps with him, perhaps in other company.
The professor was a neat and natty little man, with prominent teeth and wistful eyes, a eunuch’s voice and pretty manners; and an hour had not passed before it was apparent that the General’s lady had taken him to her bosom. He examined an antique scarab ring upon her finger, and told her to what dynasty it was to be dated; he showed her a somewhat similar ring upon his own finger, and said it was not so good nor so old a specimen as hers; he remarked what a fine old English soldier the General was, and he sighed to think how few were left of that breed; he poked delicate and kindly fun at the younger hostesses of Cairo, and compared their social efforts with those of the elder generation, so admirably represented by the lady to whom he was speaking. Lady Smith-Evered thought him a dear little man, a designation the first two words of which were certainly applicable.