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When he had shut the door of his stateroom, he leaned against it, the sweat flooding down his back. He opened his hand. Again the blossom sprang back from a crushed and broken thing into a perfect flower, the blue-and-white petals lengthening before his eyes.

For an endless time, it seemed, he stared at it. The tiny bit of green leaf at its base curled as he watched. Then he realized he was looking at himself in the mirror. The grey-haired, partially crippled Earl of Rutherford, handsome still at fifty-five, though every step he took was an agony. He let go his walking stick, ignoring it as it fell, and with his left hand felt of his grey hair.

He could hear Alex calling him. The tea had already come. Carefully he took out his wallet. He crushed the flower again and slipped it into the leather folds. Then he bent over very slowly and picked up his cane.

In a daze, it seemed, he stared at his son, who poured the tea for him.

"You know, Father," Alex said, "I'm beginning to think it's going to work out after all. I've had a good look at Ramsey. He's quite a handsome fellow, but he's too old for her, don't you think?"

Oh, but this was too much fun, this great floating iron palace with little shops on board, and a great banquet room and a dance floor where musicians would later play!

And his quarters, why, never as a King had he had such splendid quarters aboard a seagoing vessel. He was laughing almost foolishly as the stewards finished unpacking the very last of Lawrence Stratford's clothes.

Samir closed the door after they'd gone, then turned and drew out a great deal of paper money from his coat.

"This will take care of your wants for a long time, sire, only you must not show it all at one time."

"Yes, my loyal one. That was the common wisdom when I'd slip out of the palace as a boy." He gave another exuberant laugh. He couldn't help himself. The ship even contained a library and a small cinema; and then all the marvels below deck. And the gentle, elegant members of the crew--all of whom had the manners of gentlemen--had told him he might move about as he wished.

"Your coin was worth a great deal more, sire, but I had little room to bargain."

"As they say in this day and age, Samir, don't give it another thought. And you are correct in your estimation of Lord Rutherford. He

believes. In fact, I should say he knows."

"But it's Henry Stratford that presents the danger. Would a fall from the deck on the high seas be justice?"

"Not wise. It would destroy Julie's peace of mind. The more I learn of this age, the more I understand its complexities, its highly developed concepts of justice. They are Roman, but they are something more. We shall keep an eye on the progress of Mr. Henry Stratford. When his presence becomes more of a trial to his cousin, then perhaps his death will be the better of two evils, and you need not worry about that part of it. I shall do it alone."

"Yes, sire. But if for any reason you do not want this task, I shall be more than happy to kill this man myself."

Ramses laughed softly. How he liked this one; so shrewd, yet honest; patient, yet keenly clever as well.

"Maybe we should kill him together, Samir," he said. "But whatever the case I am ravenous. When do we take this great meal together on the pink tablecloths amid the great potted palms?"

"All too soon, sire, and please be ... careful."

"Samir, do not worry," Ramses said. He took Samir's hand. "I have my instructions already from Queen Julie. I am to eat only one item of fish, one item of fowl, one item of meat, and not all at the same time."

It was Samir's turn to laugh softly.

"Are you unhappy still?" Ramses asked.

"No, sire. I am very happy. Don't ever be disappointed in my sombre expression. I have seen more in my life, as of this moment, than I ever dreamed I would see. When Henry Stratford is dead, I shall ask for nothing more."

Ramses nodded. His secret was safe forever with this one, he knew it, though he could not fully understand this quality of wisdom and resignation. He had never known it when he was mortal. He didn't know it now.

T WAS a sumptuous first-class dining room, crowded already with gentlemen in white tie and tails and ladies in low-cut dresses. When Julie came in and took her chair, Alex rose to assist her. Henry and Elliott, already seated opposite, also rose, and though Julie nodded to Elliott, she found herself incapable of looking at her cousin.

She turned to Alex, and placed her hand on his. Unfortunately she could not help overhearing Henry continuing to talk angrily in Elliott's ear. Something about Alex being a fool that he could not have stopped Julie from taking this trip.

Alex, staring down at the plate before him, seemed somewhat at a loss. Was this the time or place for truth? She felt she must be honest from the beginning, or matters would only become worse for Alex, and she must see that they did not.

"Alex," she said in a low voice, "I may stay in Egypt. I don't know what my plans are. You know sometimes, my darling, I think you need someone as good as you are."

He wasn't surprised by her words. He thought for only a moment before answering. "But how could I want anyone better than you? I'll follow you into the jungles of the Sudan if that's where you want to go."

"You don't know what you're saying."