Part 27 (1/2)
”The whole thing is very bewildering. The tomb obviously hasn't been plundered, for nothing of any value is missing, and yet, as you can see, some of the gold wrappings have been torn from the mummy, certain things have been defaced on the walls--the tomb is not as it was when the body was first laid here.”
”No,” Mike said. ”Obviously not. The entrance has been tampered with and those outer walls built; and look at all that debris in the shaft.
Yet, as you say, the obvious things of intrinsic value have not been removed.”
Meg pointed to a recess in the wall; it still held the canopic jars.
Their lids were splendidly formed out of head-portraits of the queen.
Meg knew their meaning, their use; they held the intestines of the dead. The Biblical expression, ”bowels of compa.s.sion,” always came to her mind when she looked at canopic jars. These jars had their significance.
A very good significance, too, she thought, for certainly our bowels are highly sensitive organs, responding and acting in complete sympathy with our mental condition. And who can say for certain where our compa.s.sions are seated, our sensibilities and sympathies? Why not, as the Egyptians thought, in our bowels rather than in our brains?
”Joseph's bowels did yearn upon his brother Benjamin.”
”Then you have no idea who the queen was?” Meg said.
”Not yet,” Freddy said. ”But we shall know. No Egyptian could enter into his future abode without his name. It was always plainly and repeatedly written on the embalmed mummy. His identification was absolutely essential.”
”What a help to Egyptologists!” Meg said.
”Probably her name will be written on these golden wrappings and on the scarabs, if we find any. Nothing has been done yet. This precaution of the ancients, in the matter of names, has, as you say, saved us endless work. If plunderers haven't obliterated the name and stolen the scarabs and other marks of identification, we generally discover who it is.”
Meg sighed. ”Is it just ordinary desert and daylight still up above, Freddy? I can't believe it. We seem to be back in the Egypt of the Pharaohs down here.”
They all looked silently again at the wonderful sight, far more wonderful than words can suggest--the power of Egypt, the mystery of death.
”The soothsayer was quite true,” Meg said. ”His words were more than true.”
”Yes,” Freddy said, ”more than true. And the odd thing is that he said what I thought was a lot of rot about a 'bridal figure,' its splendour, its brilliance. He visualized it almost correctly. He said, too, that there would be great trouble for us in the work; he saw difficulties and errors and wrong judgments. Nothing was clear, beyond the brilliance of the figure and the objects. I wonder if he will be right in that as well?”
Michael and Margaret looked at each other. Obviously Freddy had been influenced by the accuracy of the visionary's predictions. His voice was free from scoffing. He owned that it was extraordinary--the manner in which the man's words had come true. Neither Meg nor Michael made any remark; they held their tongues in patience.
”There is certainly plenty of gold,” Freddy said, ”and jewels and much fine apparel. I hope we shan't encounter the great difficulty he expects, as regards the historical problems and arguments it may open up. He predicts that the opinions of the learned Egyptologists will be cast out; their judgments will be at fault. What at first will appear obvious and clear will not be the lasting truth.”
”How odd!” Mike said. ”Was he very pleased to hear of the correctness of his predictions so far?”
”I haven't told him.”
”Not told him?”
”No, it's wiser not. I've done my best to keep the astonis.h.i.+ng richness of the tomb from the ears of the natives. No one has been inside it but the Chief Inspector and the photographer and you two. No words have been spoken--you must not talk.”
Meg's heart bounded. It was delightful to be one of the privileged few, to be trusted and accepted as one of the school. She felt like a great explorer who had set foot in untravelled country.
”If we stand here, without moving,” she said; ”quite, quite still, mayn't we stay for a little bit longer? I'm so full of wonder and amazement, Freddy. I can't begin to think intelligently or see things separately--everything is a blurred ma.s.s of white and gold and blue and priceless objects.”
”No, Meg, I'm sorry--I can't let you stay. You see, I must take this light with me and get on with picking up those small objects. You'll see all of them to-night. And with out the light you would be in total darkness--real Egyptian darkness.”
”That's the thing that beats me. Freddy, how do you solve the problem?--had they electric torches, or were these tombs only built for supernatural eyes to enjoy?”
”They certainly didn't use flares or torches in tombs, as the early Christians did in the Roman catacombs, for there's no trace on the walls of dirt or smoke as there is on the low walls of the catacombs.
There is absolutely nothing to tell us how they lighted these vast buildings up, how they even introduced sufficient light to paint them by or to build them. Look at the minuteness of these figures.”
”Surely they never built all these wonderful tombs and took the trouble to paint them with the brightest colours if they were never again to be seen with mortal eyes? I can't believe it.”