"Surely," he cried incredulously, "you cannot believe in—oh, but the thing's absurd! You can know nothing of Ancient Egypt if you think that."
For answer Poirot produced a little book from his pocket—an ancient tattered volume. As he held it out I saw its title, The Magic of the Egyptians and Chaldeans. Then, wheeling round, he strode out of the tent. The doctor stared at me.
"What is his little idea?"
The phrase, so familiar on Poirot's lips, made me smile as it came from another.
"I don't know exactly," I confessed. "He's got some plan of exorcizing the evil spirits, I believe."
I went in search of Poirot, and found him talking to the lean-faced young man who had been the late Mr. Bleibner's secretary.
"No," Mr. Harper was saying, "I've only been six months with the expedition. Yes, I knew Mr. Bleibner's affairs pretty well."
"Can you recount to me anything concerning his nephew?"
"He turned up here one day, not a bad-looking fellow. I'd never met him before, but some of the others had—Ames, I think, and Schneider.
