And with an abrupt gesture, not waiting for a reply, he strode away.

“Evil in the air,” muttered Poirot. “Yes, I feel it.”

Our meal was hardly a cheerful one. The floor was left to Dr. Tosswill, who discoursed at length upon Egyptian antiquities. Just as we were preparing to retire to rest, Sir Guy caught Poirot by the arm and pointed. A shadowy figure was moving amidst the tents. It was no human one: I recognized distinctly the dog-headed figure I had seen carved on the walls of the tomb.

My blood literally froze at the sight.

“ Mon Dieu! ” murmured Poirot, crossing himself vigorously. “Anubis, the jackal-headed, the god of departing souls.”