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It would be senseless to repeat Emerson’s interruptions, which broke the smooth narrative I had intended to produce. I will therefore produce it here; for as the reader will discover, it had an unexpected and well-nigh uncanny influence on ensuing events.

“When the young prince was born, the Seven Hathors came to decree his fate. They said: ‘He shall die by the crocodile, the snake, or the dog.’

“Naturally the king was very sad at hearing this. He ordered a stone house to be built and shut the prince up in it, along with every thing he could possibly want. But when the prince was older, he went up on the roof one day and saw a man walking along the road with a dog beside him; and he asked that a dog be procured for him. His father, who yearned to please the poor lad, caused a puppy to be given him.

“After the prince was grown he demanded his release, saying, ‘If it is my doom it will come to me, whatever I do.’ Sadly his father agreed; and the boy set forth, accompanied by his dog. At last he came to the kingdom of Naharin. The king had only one child, a daughter; and he had placed her in a tower whose window was seventy cubits from the ground, and told all the princes who wanted to marry her that she would be given to the one who first reached her window.

“Disguised as a chariot driver, the Prince of Egypt joined the young men who spent all their days jumping up at the window of the princess; and the princess saw him. When finally he reached the window she kissed and embraced him. But when the King of Naharin heard that a common chariot driver had won his daughter, he tried first to send the boy away and then to kill him. But the princess clasped the young man in her arms and said, ‘I will not stay alive an hour longer than he!’

“So the lovers were wed; and after some time had elapsed, the prince told his wife about the three fates. ‘Have the dog that follows you killed!’ she exclaimed; but he replied, ‘I will not allow my dog, which I raised from a puppy, to be killed.’ So she guarded him day and night. And one night while he slept, she set out jars of beer and wine, and she waited; and the snake came out of its hole to bite the prince. But it drank the wine and became drunk, and rolled over on its back; and the princess took her ax and chopped it to pieces.”

“And that is where it ends,” said Emerson loudly. “Now, Mr. Reisner, I believe you began in Semitic—”

“That is not the ending,” I said, even more loudly. “There is a confused passage which seems to suggest that the faithful dog turned on his master, and that in fleeing the dog, he fell into the clutches of the crocodile. The manuscript breaks off at that point, though.”

“It is the mystery of the ending that intrigues you, I suppose,” said Mr. Newberry. “Was it the crocodile or the dog that brought the prince to his death?”

“I believe he escaped those fates as he did the first,” I said. “The ancient Egyptians liked happy endings, and the brave princess must have played a part in the solution.”

“That is the true explanation for your interest, Mrs. Emerson,” said Howard Carter, who had come all the way from Luxor to join the party. “The princess is the heroine!”

“And why not?” I said, returning his smile. “The ancient Egyptians were among the few peoples, ancient or modern, who gave women their due. Not as often as they deserved, of course …”

At this point Emerson demanded the floor and, having had my say, I yielded it. He explained the plans we had discussed earlier.

“It will take a great deal of money and produce few results,” said the Reverend Sayce. “The public wants monumental statues and jewels; they are not interested in pottery scraps.”

“But that should not be our concern,” declared Howard. He was one of the youngest of the group and he had not lost his boyish enthusiasm. “It is a splendid idea, Professor. Exactly what is needed. I don’t mean to criticize M. Loret, but you know how he went about locating the tomb last year, don’t you? Sondages! Pits, dug at random—”

“I know what the word means,