The Curse of the Pharaohs - Elizabeth Peters [84]
Our workmen had already arrived at the tomb. All of them, as well as Abdullah and Karl, were gathered around Feisal, the second in command, who was telling them about the attack on Arthur. Feisal was the best raconteur in the group, and he was going at it in great style, with furious gestures and grimaces. Our two guards, who of course had known nothing of the event until now, had forgotten their dignity and were listening as avidly as the men. Arabs greatly enjoy a well-told story and will listen over and over to a tale they know by heart, especially if it is narrated by a skilled storyteller. I suspected that Feisal had added a few embellishments of his own.
Emerson erupted onto the scene and the group hastily dispersed, except for Abdullah and Karl. The former turned to Emerson, stroking his beard in obvious agitation. “Is this true, Emerson? That liar”—with a contemptuous gesture at Feisal, who was pretending not to listen—“will say anything to get attention.”
Emerson responded with an accurate description of what had happened. The widening of Abdullah’s eyes and his increasingly rapid manipulation of his beard indicated that the bare facts were distressing enough.
“But this is terrible,” Karl said. “I must to the house go. Miss Mary is alone—”
I tried to reassure him. The mention of Mr. O’Connell as the prospective protector of the ladies did not soothe the young German at all, and he would have continued to expostulate if Emerson had not cut the discussion short.
“Mrs. Emerson will be in charge today,” he announced. “I will return as soon as I can; in the meantime you will, of course, obey her as you would me.” And, with a forlorn glance into the depths of the tomb—the sort of a look a lover might have cast on his beloved as he took leave of her before a battle—he strode away, followed, I was distressed to observe, by a little tail of curiosity seekers and journalists, all shouting questions. My beleaguered husband finally snatched the bridle of a donkey from a surprised Egyptian, leaped onto the beast, and urged it into a trot. The cavalcade disappeared in a cloud of dust, with the infuriated owner of the beast leading the pursuit.
I looked in vain for the fiery-red head of Mr. O’Connell. I was surprised at his absence, for I felt sure that with his sources of information he had already heard of the latest catastrophe and would be eager to rush to Mary’s side. The mystery was explained shortly thereafter when a ragged child handed me a note. I gave the messenger some baksheesh and opened the note.
“I hope you have been able to convince the Professor,” it began abruptly. “If you haven’t, he will have to evict me personally and by force. I have gone to the house to be with Mary.”
Much as I deplored the young man’s impetuosity, I could not but respect the depth of his devotion to the girl he loved. And it was certainly a relief to know that the able-bodied man we needed was on duty. With my mind at ease on this point—if on few others—I could turn my attention to the tomb.
The first order of business was to photograph the area we had uncovered the previous evening. I had caused Arthur’s camera to be fetched to the tomb, since I felt perfectly confident that with a little study I could operate it. With the help of Karl I set up the apparatus. Mr. Vandergelt, who arrived at about that time, was also useful. We took several exposures. Then the men were set to removing the remains, which included a number of beads and bits of stone that had been overlooked. It was then necessary to remove the massive stone from the passageway. Its appearance outside caused a great buzzing and shoving among the sightseers. Two of them actually fell over the edge of the excavation into the stairwell and had to be removed, bruised and threatening legal action.
Now the way was clear for the removal of the remaining fill, but when I was about to direct the men to carry out this task, Abdullah pointed out that it was time for the noon rest. I was not averse to stopping; for I was becoming increasingly