The Mummy Case - Elizabeth Peters [57]
Six
In the end Ramses got his way. After considering the matter, I decided it would be advisable for us to have some form of transport at hand, for the site was isolated and extensive. So we hired several donkeys, on a long-term lease, so to speak, and had the men build a shed for them near the ruins of the church. My first act upon coming into possession of the donkeys was, as usual, to strip off their filthy saddlecloths and wash them. It was not an easy task, since water had to be carried from the village, and the donkeys did not at all like being washed.
I will say for Ramses that he tried to be of use. However, he was more hindrance than help, falling over the water jars, getting more liquid on his own person than on the donkeys, and narrowly avoiding losing a finger to one irritated equine whose teeth he was trying to brush. The moment the animals were ready for locomotion he demanded the use of one.
“Certainly, my boy,” his naive father replied.
“Where do you mean to go?” his more suspicious mother demanded.
“To Dahshoor, to visit M. de Morgan,” said Ramses.
Emerson’s face fell. He had been deeply wounded by Ramses’ admiration for the dashing Frenchman. “I would rather you did not call on M. de Morgan, Ramses. Not alone, at any rate. Papa will take you with him another time.”
Instead of debating the matter, Ramses clasped his hands and raised imploring eyes to his father’s troubled face. “Den, Papa, may I make a widdle excavation of my own? Just a widdle one, Papa?”
I cannot fully express in words the dark suspicion that filled my mind at this patent demonstration of duplicity. It had been months since Ramses had mispronounced the letter l. His father had been absurdly charmed by this speech defect; indeed, I am convinced that it originated with Emerson’s addressing the infant Ramses in “baby-talk,” as it is called. Before I could express my misgivings, Emerson beamed fondly at the innocent face turned up to his and said, “My dear boy, certainly you may. What a splendid idea! It will be excellent experience for you.”
“And may I take one or two of de men to help me, Papa?”
“I was about to suggest it myself, Ramses. Let me see whom I can spare—besides Selim, of course.”
They went off arm in arm, leaving me to wonder what Ramses was up to this time. Even my excellent imagination failed to provide an answer.
ii
The cemetery was of Roman date. Need I say more? We found small rock-cut tombs, most of which had been robbed in ancient times. Our labors were rewarded (I use the word ironically) by a motley collection of rubbish the tomb robbers had scorned—cheap pottery jars, fragments of wooden boxes, and a few beads. Emerson recorded the scraps with dangerous calm and I filed them away in the storeroom. The unrobbed tombs did contain coffins, some of wood, some molded out of cartonnage (a variety of papier-mâché) and heavily varnished. We opened three of these coffins, but Emerson was forced to refuse Ramses’ request that he be allowed to unwrap the mummies, since we had no facilities for that particular enterprise. Two of the mummies had painted portraits affixed to the head wrappings. These paintings, done in colored wax on thin panels of wood, were used in late times in lieu of the sculptured masks common earlier. Petrie had found a number of them, some exceedingly handsome, when he dug at Hawara, but our examples were crude and injured by damp. I hope I need not say that I treated these wretched specimens with the meticulous care I always employ, covering them with a fresh coating of beeswax to fix the colors and storing them in boxes padded with cotton wool, in the same manner I had employed with the portrait painting Emerson had rescued from Abd el Atti’s shop. They compared poorly with the latter, which was that of a woman wearing elaborate earrings and a golden fillet. Her large dark eyes and expressive lips were drawn and shaded with an almost modern realism of technique.
On Sunday, which was our day of rest, John appeared in full regalia, knee