The Mummy Case - Elizabeth Peters [51]
I repeated the word in a hollow voice. “Pyramids?”
“Pyramids,” Emerson said firmly. Clear on the horizon the monuments of Dahshoor rose in ironic commentary.
After luncheon Emerson declared his intention of paying a call on M. de Morgan. “We cannot begin work for another day or two,” he explained glibly. “And Ramses ought to see Dahshoor. I had intended to take him to Giza and Sakkara, but we left Cairo in such haste the poor lad was not even allowed to visit the Museum.”
“There will be ample time for sightseeing after the season,” I replied, neatly folding my napkin.
“It is only courteous to call on our neighbor, Peabody.”
“No doubt; but this is the first time I have ever seen you so conscious of propriety. Oh, very well,” I added quickly. “If you insist, Emerson, we will go.”
We took Selim with us, leaving John to superintend the renovation of our living quarters and Abdullah to conclude the survey. He knew Emerson’s methods and was competent to carry them out; but it was a departure for Emerson to leave anyone else in charge. I knew it testified to the anguish of his spirit.
Despite the equanimity of temper for which I am well known, the closer we approached the noble monuments of Dahshoor, the more bitter was the emotion that choked me. With what indescribable yearning did I view the objects with which I had hoped to become intimately acquainted!
The two large pyramids of Dahshoor date from the same period of time as the Giza pyramids, and they are almost as large. They are built of white limestone, and this snowy covering exhibits bewitching changes of tint, according to the quality of the light—a mazy gold at sunset, a ghostly translucent pallor under the glow of the moon. Now, at a little past noon, the towering structures shone dazzlingly white against the deep blue of the sky.
There are three smaller pyramids at the site, built at a later period, when building skills had deteriorated. Constructed not of solid stone but of mud brick faced with stone, they lost their original pyramidal shape when the casing blocks were removed by their successors or by local peasants desirous of obtaining pre-cut building materials. Despite its ruined state, one of these brick pyramids—the southernmost—dominates the terrain, and from some aspects it appears to loom even larger than its stone neighbors. Stark and almost menacing it rose up as we approached, as dark as the great pyramids were pale. My eyes were increasingly drawn to it and finally I exclaimed, “What a strange and indeed sinister appearance that structure has, Emerson. Can it be a pyramid?”
Emerson had become increasingly morose as we neared Dahshoor. Now he replied grumpily, “You know perfectly well that it is, Peabody. I beg you will not humor me by pretending ignorance.”
He was correct; I knew the monuments of Dahshoor as well as I knew the rooms of my own house. I felt I could have traversed the area blindfolded. Emerson’s bad humor was due in no small part to the fact that he was aware of my poignant yearning and felt guilty—as well he might.
The Arabs called the dark structure the “Black Pyramid,” and it merited the name, even though it more resembled a massive truncated tower. As we approached, signs of activity could be seen near the eastern side, where M. de Morgan was excavating. There was no sign of de Morgan, however, until Emerson’s hail brought him out of the tent where he had been napping.
M. de Morgan was in his thirties. He had been a mining engineer before being appointed to head the Department of Antiquities, a position traditionally held by a citizen of France. He was a good-looking man, with regular features and a pair of luxuriant mustaches. Even though he had been roused suddenly from sleep his trousers were