Part 17 (1/2)

”I am baffled,” the Dean conceded, genially. ”I've reached a certain point and there there is a blank which no historic record seems to fill. I thought when I had restored the inscription on the urn that it would tell me several of the missing points, but it seems to be merely a sort of sacred invocation. I am amazed at the urn being hollow. Every other memorial urn which I found during our excavations in Egypt was sealed, and upon being opened we always found rolls of papyrii within. I am disappointed.”

Kit went into the back parlor and lifted the urn from the piano very carefully, carrying it out to its customary place on the Dean's desk. Then she stood staring at it, reflectively. It certainly was not exactly a thing of beauty, although, as the Dean had pointed out to her, one saw the influence of Grecian art in its graceful lines. It always reminded Kit of Indian pottery down among the Zunis and Mexicans.

”What does the inscription say?” Kit leaned forward anxiously.

”It merely traces the origin of King Amenotaph to the G.o.d Thoth,” said the Dean, thoughtfully; ”that is, the Egyptian Hermes, or Mercury, as we know him, and it is extremely vague, being a curious mixture of the Coptic and the ancient Aramaic.”

”But what does it say?” asked Kit again.

The Dean followed the curious markings on the urn with his finger-tip, bending forward and peering over the rims of his tortoise-sh.e.l.l gla.s.ses.

”It says, 'Amenotaph, born of Thoth, shall reign in wisdom. Kings shall serve at his footstool. Ra shall s.h.i.+ne upon him. He shall lie in peace, encompa.s.sed by Ra.'”

”Is that all?”

”That is all,” sighed the Dean. ”It seems merely a laudatory sentiment.”

”Who was Ra?” asked Kit, curiously, running her hand around the top of the urn.

”The Sun G.o.d. His symbol was the circle. You see it here.”

Kit repeated again, slowly:

”'He shall lie in peace, encompa.s.sed by Ra,' That means surrounded by Ra, doesn't it, Uncle Ca.s.sius?” She picked up the um in both hands and shook it close to her ear.

”My dear child, do be careful,” cried the Dean; ”it is priceless.”

But Kit put it under one arm as though it had been a milk pail and tapped around the inside with her knuckles, listening.

”That's a perfectly good hollow jug,” she said, solemnly. ”Just you tap it, and listen, uncle. I'll bet a cookie they've hidden something inside the outside and that Ra has guarded it all these years.”

”Just a moment, just a moment, my dear,” exclaimed the Dean, smiling like a happy boy. ”You've given me an idea. This may be a cryptogram, or an ideographic cypher. Just a moment, now; don't speak to me.”

He sat down at the desk and figured laboriously for nearly twenty minutes, working out the inscription in cypher, while Kit stared at him delightedly. After all, it was rather gratifying, she thought, to have somebody in the family who could take a little remark made thousands of years ago in old Egypt and make sense out of it to-day. She waited patiently until he had finished. His hands were trembling as he reached for the urn.

”The circle,” he repeated, ”the circle. 'Ra in his circle shall guard Amenotaph.' The secret lies in the circle, Kit. Do you suppose it could mean the rim of the urn?”

Kit knelt beside him, following the inscription on the outside of the urn carefully with her finger-tip, the same as the Dean had done, and stopping when she came to a small circle in black and red outline.

”Do you suppose Ra lives here, Uncle Ca.s.sius?” she asked, poking at it thoughtfully. She peered on the inner side at the corresponding spot to the circle, and gave a little cry of excitement. There was the faintest sign of a circle here also, like one of the age cracks on Cousin Roxy's antique china. ”See,” she cried. ”When you push on this side, the other gives a little bit.”

The Dean could not speak. He took the urn from her over to the window and carefully examined the inner circle through a microscope.

”Yes,” he said, fervently, ”you are perfectly right, my dear. The circle moves. I think I shall have to take it to Was.h.i.+ngton on our way east. I would not take the responsibility of trying to remove it myself.”

”Oh, dear, it seems awful to have to wait so long,” Kit exclaimed, regretfully. ”You know it seemed to me as if you could just press it through with your thumb, like this.”

She had not intended pressing so hard, but merely to show him what she meant, and lo, as Cousin Roxy would have said, under the pressure of Kit's strong, young, capable thumb, the circle of Ra depressed and pushed slowly through, just exactly as Kit told the girls long afterwards, like when you plug a watermelon. The Dean looked on in utter amazement, as Kit lifted the urn and tested the inner section by shaking it. Then she peered into the circular hole, about the size of a quarter. The urn was fully two inches thick, and by inserting her finger into the s.p.a.ce she found that it was made in two sections, with enough room between for a place of concealment.