Darcy followed her gaze, and his blood ran cold. A figure, partially concealed behind stacked cargo crates, was unmistakably George Wickham. His attention was fixed on their small party.
“Richard,” Darcy said, catching his cousin’s attention.
“I see him,” Richard murmured. He surveyed their surroundings. “He is not alone. At least two other men are watching the various exits from the harbor. They look to be fighting men. Their focus darts between Wickham and us.”
“What do we do?” Elizabeth asked.
“We proceed as planned,” Richard replied. “We expected that he would be here. Our priority is to ensure that we do not lead him to what we seek.”
“You are not going to interview port officials?” Darcy asked, surprised by the deviation from Richard’s usual protocol.
“Not until I understand the situation better,” his cousin said. “Wickham seems to have gathered resources and connections, while we have neither. We need to find out who is sponsoring him and why.”
The group made their way through Alexandria’s bustling streets with forced casualness. Richard had Mrs. Bell on his arm, Mr. Bennet had Elizabeth firmly at his side, and Darcy walked behind, scanning the streets and alleyways for those who would do them harm.
The city was a fascinating blend of ancient andmodern decline. Classical columns supported late Ottoman and Mamluk-style buildings, while Greco-Roman foundations peeked through medieval construction in archaeological layers. Alexandria was much smaller than it had been in its heyday. A mixture of modest dwellings, mosques, and fortifications punctuated the landscape along with the visible ruins.
Their lodgings proved adequate, if not luxurious. They followed their established routine of arranging proper bathing facilities and laundry services. The familiar activities helped mask their true purpose while providing time to plan their next moves.
While they secured these arrangements, Elizabeth noticed a young man, an artist, working near the inn’s courtyard. Despite using only the most basic materials, he displayed obvious skill as he sketched the architectural details of an ancient column. “His work is very good. Perhaps he would be willing to document our time in Egypt.”
When Darcy and Elizabeth approached, the young man introduced himself as Khalil ibn Yusuf. He stated that he needed paid employment. Despite this, his clothing, though worn, was clean, his manner respectful but not servile, and his Arabic-accented English was precise.
“I study at the mosque school,” Yusuf explained with quiet dignity. “My family, like so many others, has fallen on difficult times. I offer honest work in exchange for fair payment.”
His demeanor impressed Darcy favorably, and, with Richard’s concurrence, they arranged for him to accompany them throughout their stay in Egypt. Darcy provided an advance payment to cover the artist’sexpenses while the artist was away from home. When the group gathered in the common room of their inn, Yusuf discreetly positioned himself where he could sketch their group as they conversed.
“We should appear to be ordinary travelers,” Bennet said. “According to Captain Morrison, the ship must stay here for three weeks while he negotiates for grain and has two of the sails replaced. Let us explore Egypt’s known attractions with apparent tourist enthusiasm. That will allow us to familiarize ourselves a bit with the region and determine the best way to approach our actual objective.”
For the next two days, they conducted a charade of sightseeing, visiting the location where the ancient lighthouse once stood, exploring what remained of the great library’s foundations, and admiring older buildings that still dotted the city. Yusuf proved invaluable during these expeditions, not only for his artistic skills but also for his local knowledge and ability to guide them through subtle social customs that otherwise would have caused difficulties.
It was during their second evening that Bennet struck up a conversation with a scholar staying at their lodgings. He was a thin, intense man named Dr. Mahmoud Hassan who claimed extensive knowledge of Egypt’s treasures.
“You seek the lost manuscripts, yes?” Dr. Hassan asked after Bennet had probed his knowledge. “Many come to Alexandria with such hopes, but they search in vain.”
Darcy noticed Yusuf’s shoulders stiffen. His subtle reaction made Darcy pay closer attention to the conversation.
“What do you mean?” Elizabeth’s father asked.
“The library was destroyed. There is nothing to be found. Instead, the local people promote the idea that there are hidden scrolls to entice visitors to our fair city,” Dr. Hassan explained with the air of someone sharing precious secrets. “I have spent years studying the fragments left by ancient scholars, and I have discovered references that indicate the true treasure lies in Luxor, far up the Nile.”
Yusuf took a step closer to where the two men were speaking and then stopped himself. Darcy made a mental note to quiz him privately.
“You are certain?” Elizabeth asked with careful politeness.
“I am,” Dr. Hassan answered. “Besides, the catacombs where the rumors claim the manuscripts are stored are dangerous. The authorities restrict access. As a favor to you, I can arrange guides for your journey to Luxor, experienced men who know the Nile’s challenges and can ensure your safe passage. There you will discover true Egyptian antiquities, libraries filled with ancient writings from learned scholars.”
Bennet continued to question him. To Darcy’s unease, Elizabeth’s father seemed too easily convinced that the scholar spoke with authenticity.
Once Dr. Hassan had departed,and Bennet had gone to his rooms to rest, Yusuf approached Darcy and the others with obvious reluctance. “Sir,” he said. “I must speak with you about Dr. Hassan. Please do not think mepresumptuous or motivated by jealousy because he does not hire me for his expeditions.”
“Speak freely,” Darcy encouraged.
“Dr. Hassan is known in Alexandria to embellish the truth for wealthy visitors,” Yusuf said. “He is suspected of selling false artifacts and leading tourists to places where his confederates stage ‘discoveries’ for additional payment. Respectable scholars in the city do not associate with him.”
Darcy experienced a chill, though Dr. Hassan’s confident manner and detailed knowledge had sounded convincing. “You are certain of this?”
“My uncle works at the museum as its curator,” Yusuf replied. “He often complains about men like Dr. Hassan who prey upon European visitors seeking authentic Egyptian treasures. If you seek what I think you seek, I urge great caution.”
