is
work. Had he heard from the experts who were examining the skull and
bones of the mummy? Freddy answered her absently and half-heartedly.

"No, not yet--no report has come. Let's have some tea, first, before
we talk--my throat's bone dry."

Meg was conscious of some constraint, some anxiety in his manner.
Freddy's silence could be very eloquent. She gave him his tea and
administered to his wants. For some days he had had a little touch of
diarrhoea, the result of a slight cold caught during one of the quick
falls of temperature which take place in Upper Egypt. Margaret knew
that in Egypt diarrhoea must never be neglected, for it too often leads
to dysentery. She had made her brother take the proper remedies, a
gentle aperient followed by concentrated tincture of camphor, and she
had been very careful not to allow him to eat any fatty food or fruit
or meat.

Freddy did not take kindly to a diet of arrowroot or rice boiled in
milk, adulterated with water. This afternoon he looked tired and out
of spirits. Meg wondered if the tiresome complaint had been troubling
him again.

As she handed him the bread and butter she said, "Should you eat
butter, Freddy! Tell me the truth--are you not feeling so well to-day?
Has there been any return of the trouble?"

Freddy looked at her in astonishment. His thoughts were so far removed
from his own health. If abstaining from the flesh of animals and the
eating of fruit would ease his anxiety, he felt that for the rest of
his life, he would never ask for any other food than watery arrowroot.

"I'm perfectly all right. That trouble's quite gone--your care has
done the trick. Thanks awfully."

"Then what is it, Freddy?" Meg laid her hand on his arm, her eyes held
his. If he attempted to deny the fact that there was something on his
mind, she knew that he knew that his eyes could not hide it from her.

"I am bothered about something, Meg. There's an ugly report going
about--I've made up my mind to tell you."

"Report about whom? You?" Meg's eyes showed battle. The Lampton
fighting instinct was roused.

"No, I wish it was about me--I'd soon settle it!" Freddy's eyes were
still searched by his sister's.

"It's about Michael," she said. She rose from her seat. "I have
expected it. I knew it was coming."

"What?" Freddy looked at her in amazement. "You expected it?"

"I felt there was some trouble. I don't know what--I can't even
guess--but I felt i