He went off with Terence, Hadrian, and other members of the party to the hotel. The palace seemed very quiet without them.
It was during the morning that one of the servants came to tell me that a worker from the site had come to see me.
He had hurt himself and wanted me to dress his wound with my now famous salve.
When I went down to the courtyard I found the young man whose wound I had dressed before and whom I knew as Yasmin's lover.
"Lady," he said, and held out his hand. It was grazed and bleeding a little. I told him to come in and I would boil some water and wash it before anointing it with my salve and bandaging it.
I knew that the hand was not badly hurt, and had perhaps been grazed purposely. He had something of importance to tell me.
"Yasmin will never come back," he said. 'Yasmin is dead. Yasmin was thrown into the river."
"Yes, I know that now."
"But, Lady, you do not know why."
"Tell me."
"Yasmin was found in the tomb. I was not with her that day, or I would be dead. Because she was found where she should not be she was taken away and killed. I know because I have confession from the man who did it. He dared do nothing else. It was the order. And then there came another order. There must be an accident. There must be a warning because it is important to some . . . that you go away."
"I see," I said. "And who gave these orders?"
The boy began to tremble visibly. He looked over his shoulder.
"You may tell me," I said. "Your secret would be safe with me."
"I dare not tell," he said. "It would be death."
"Who should know you told?"
"His servants are everywhere."
"Everywhere. Not here."
"Yes, Lady, here, in this house. You see their mark. . . ."
"The Jackal?"
"It is the sign of Anubis—the first embalmer."
I said: "The Pasha?"
The boy looked so frightened that I knew I was right.
"So," I said, "he gave orders that Yasmin should be killed; and then that one of us should have an accident which could be fatal on the bridge. One of his servants could easily have tampered with the bridge. But why should he?"
"He want you away, Lady. He want you leave it all. He fears . . ."
But he would not go on.
"So Yasmin died," I said, "and my sister died."
"Your sister, Lady. She your sister?"
I nodded.
He was horrified. I think more by the fact that he had betrayed this information to me than by the death of Theodosia, and that she should turn out to be my sister might mean that I would want to take a personal vengeance.
He said suddenly: "Yasmin, she wait for me in a secret place . . .
"A secret place?" I said quickly.
"Inside the tomb. There is small opening not far from the bridge. We have not worked in that small opening so I thought that is our spot. That was where she would have been waiting for me. That was where we lay together."
I tied the bandage and he said: "I tell you, Lady, because you good, good to me, good to Yasmin. And there are orders that there should be more accidents, that all may know the Curse is alive, and the kings are angry with those who defile their resting places."
I said: "Thank you for telling me."
"You will tell the Sir. But not tell that I told. But you will tell him and go away, and then you will be safe."
I said: "I will tell him."
"He will go then for fear it should be you who will die next, for you are his beloved."
I felt sick with horror. I wanted to be alone to think.
I wished Tybalt were here so that I could tell him what I had discovered. He should have listened to me, I told myself angrily. When Yasmin disappeared he had not appeared to be interested. But her disappearance concerned us all.
The Pasha! He wanted us out of the way. Why? I thought of his sitting at the table, eating, paying compliments, assessing our feminine attributes. He had lent us his palace. Why, if he did not want to help us? To have us under his eyes; that was why. His servants waited on us and reported everything we did. It was becoming very clear. And little Yasmin, what had she done to deserve death? She had been found in the tomb waiting for her lover. In the little alcove, which I had not noticed but which Yasmin's lover had described.
I remembered suddenly that the soothsayer had the brand of the Jackal on his arm. So he too was the servant of the Pasha. Was it his task to predict death and disaster, to drive us away?
I must talk to Tybalt. I must tell him what I had heard. But he was at the conference. I would have to wait for his return.
The palace had become really sinister. How did we know who was watching us, listening to every word we uttered? Silent-footed servants following us, reporting on everything we did!
All the servants were the Pasha's servants. They would all have their duties. There were only two we had brought with us: Mustapha and Absalam.
And what of them?
I must find out. I went to my room and rang the bell. Mustapha came and I asked him to bring me mint tea.
I stood beside him as he laid it on the table. I said: "There is an insect. Oh dear! It's gone up your arm." Before he could move I drew up his loose sleeve. It would be on the forearm where I had seen the others.
My little ruse had told me what I wanted to know. On Mustapha's forearm was the brand of the Jackal.
I said calmly: "I don't see it now. The insects here are a pest, and their stings can be so poisonous. People are always coming for my ointment. However, it's gone."
Mustapha's suspicions had not been aroused, I was sure.
He thanked me and left me with my tea.
I sat there sipping it and thinking that if Mustapha was the Pasha's man so must Absalam be.
Then my thoughts went to Sir Edward. He had died in the palace. He had eaten food prepared by Mustapha or Absalam or both and he had died.
If he had a doctor to attend him that doctor could have been the Pasha's man.
Tybalt was in danger as his father had been. We were all in danger.
Sir Edward had discovered something in the tomb and that had necessitated his immediate death. So far it seemed that Tybalt had not found what his father had, as no attempt had been made on his life. But if Tybalt were to make that discovery . . .
I began to shiver. I must see him. I must make him listen, for I was sure that what I had learned was of the utmost importance.
X
Within the Tomb
How quiet the palace seemed. How long would the conference go on? There was no one about. I might have tried to find Tabitha, but I had no desire to confide in her for I no longer trusted her. I no longer knew whom to trust.
I went to my favorite seat on the terrace and as I sat there I saw someone coming up the steps towards me. To my surprise it was Leopold Harding.
"I thought you had gone," I said.
"No, there was a slight hitch. Business, you know. I have just come from the hotel. I have a message from your husband."
I stood up. "He wants me to go there?"
"No. He wants you to meet him at the site."
"Now?"
"Yes, now. At once. He has gone on."
"Then the conference is over."
"I don't know, but he asked me to give you this message as I had a few hours to spare before leaving."
"Did he say where at the site?"
"He told me exactly. I said I would take you there."
"But where was it?"
"It's better if I show you."
I picked up my hat which was on the seat beside me and without which I never went out.
I said: "I'm ready. I'll come now."
He was already leading the way out to the river. We took one of the boats and went to the site.
The Valley looked grim under the glare of the late afternoon sun. In spite of the windlessness there always seemed to be a fine dust in the air
.
The place seemed deserted because the men were not working today. I had understood from Tybalt that they were awaiting the outcome of the conference.
We came to the opening in the hillside which was the way into the tomb, but to my surprise Leopold led me past that.
"But surely," I began.
"No," he said. "I am quite sure. I was here yesterday and your husband was showing me something. It is here . . ."
He led me into what looked like a natural cave but which could well have been hollowed out. To my amazement there was a hole in the side of this cave.
He said: "Let me help you through here."
"Are you sure?" I began. "I have never been here before."
"No. Your husband has just discovered that it is here."
"But what is this hole?"
"You will see. Give me your hand."
I stepped through and was surprised to find myself at the top of a flight of steps.
"If you will let me help you, we will descend these stairs."
"Is Tybalt here then?"
"You will see. There are lanterns here. I will light them and then we can have one each."
"It seems strange," I said, "that you, who are a stranger here . . ."
He smiled. 'Well, Lady Travers, I have explored a little. Your husband has been very kind to me."
"They knew of this place then. Is it connected with the tomb?"
"Oh yes, but I don't think it was considered worth exploring until now." He handed me a lantern and I could see steps which had been cut out of the earth. They turned and there facing us was a door. It was half open.
"There," said Leopold Harding as we went through. "This is the spot. I'll go ahead, shall I?"
Tybalt had never mentioned this place to me. It must be a new discovery. But then lately I had been aloof. I was not able to prevent myself being so; for while I could not bring myself to talk of my suspicions, at the same time I could not behave as though they did not exist.
We were in a small chamber not more than eight feet in height. I saw that there was an opening ahead and I went towards this. I looked up and saw three or four steps.
I mounted these and called: "Tybalt, I'm here."
I was in another chamber; this one was larger than the other. It was very cold.
The first shadow of alarm touched me. "Tybalt," I called. My voice sounded rather shrill.
I said: "There is nobody here?"
I looked over my shoulder. I was alone.
I said: "Mr. Harding, I think there's been a mistake. Tybalt isn't here."
There was no answer. I started down the steps. I went back to the smaller chamber. Leopold Harding was not there either.
I went back to the opening. It was completely dark because the door was shut.
I called: "Mr. Harding. Where are you?"
There was no reply.
I went to the door. I could see no handle, no bolt . . . nothing with which to open it. I pushed it. I tried to pull it. But it remained fast shut.
"Where are you? Mr. Harding, where are you?"
No answer. Only the hollow sound of my own voice.
I knew then what it meant to have one's flesh creep. It was as though thousands of ants were crawling over me. I knew that my hair had risen on my scalp. The awful realization had come to me. I was alone and only Mr. Harding knew I was here.
Why? Who was he? Why should he do this? My imagination was running wild again. It was so senseless. He had stepped outside for a moment. He would come back. Why should a tourist, an acquaintance merely, shut me in a tomb?
I tried to be calm. I lifted the lantern and looked about me ... at the steps cut out of the earth, at the earth walls of the little chamber. Tybalt must be here. He would come out in a moment.
Then I remembered my suspicions of Tybalt. Could it be that he had had me brought here to ... to rid himself of me. But why did he send Leopold Harding to bring me here? Who was Leopold Harding? Why did Tybalt not bring me himself? Because he did not wish to be seen coming here with me? When I did not return . . .
Oh, this was folly. This was madness.
To be shut in a tomb alone could drive one mad.
I set down the lantern and banged my fists on the door. It did not give. How was it shut? How had it opened? All Leopold Harding had appeared to do was to push it and we stepped inside. It was as easy as that. And now it was fast shut and I was on the wrong side of it.
He must be hiding to tease me. What a foolish trick. I remembered myself suddenly rising from the sarcophagus in Giza House. I could almost hear Theodosia's shrieks.
"Oh God, let somebody come. Don't let me be alone in this place."
Tybalt must be here somewhere. It was better to look, to assure myself before I allowed this creeping terror to take a grip on me.
I picked up the lantern and walked resolutely towards the steps. I descended them and was in the larger chamber. I must explore this. There might be a way out here. Tybalt might be somewhere beyond, waiting for Leopold to bring me to him.
I held my lantern high and examined the walls of the chamber; there was no decoration on them, but I saw that there was an opening. I went through this and was in a corridor.
"Tybalt," I called. "Are you there, Tybalt?"
No answer.
I lifted my lantern. I saw that these walls had been decorated. Rows of vultures were depicted there, their wings stretched as though they hovered. Now I had reached yet another chamber. I examined it with care. There seemed to be no outlet from this one. I had come to the end of my exploration; and there was no one here.
I felt my legs trembling and I sank down onto the floor. Now I knew a fear that I had never known before. I had been brought here for some purpose. All the warnings I had received, all the premonitions, they had some meaning. I should have heeded them.
But why should Leopold Harding wish to trick me? Why had he lied to me? I remembered coming out of the Temple and running straight into that man. He had been the one who had stalked me there. He had meant to kill me. Oh, but this was a better ideal
Had Tybalt ordered him to do this, and who was he that he must take his orders from Tybalt?
I was sure something moved overhead. Something was looking down at me. I held up the lantern.
On the ceiling had been carved a great bat with enormous wings. Its eyes were some sort of obsidian and the light of the lantern catching them had made them seem alive.
I fancied I could hear the soothsayer's voice: "The bat is hovering, waiting to descend."
I stared up at it, hideous, malevolent; and I said to myself: "What is to become of me? What does it mean? Why have I been brought here?"
I was cold. Or was it fear that made me shiver so violently that I could not keep still? My teeth chattered . . . an unearthly sound.
I could not bring myself to stand up and go back. I was fascinated by that hideous bat on the ceiling of the chamber.
Now I could make out drawings on the walls. There was a Pharaoh offering a sacrifice to one of the gods. Was it Hathor the Goddess of Love? It must be because there she was again and her face was that of a cow, and I knew the cow was her emblem.
I was so cold. I must move. I stood up unsteadily. I examined the walls. There might be a way out of this place. There must be a way out. Now I could see the drawings of the walls more clearly. There were pictures of ships and men tied upside down on their prows. Prisoners I remembered. And with them were men without one or more limbs. And there was the crocodile who had maimed them, sly, ugly, with a necklace about his neck and earrings hanging from his ears.
Where was I? At the entrance to a tomb? Then if I was at the entrance it must lead on. Somewhere ahead perhaps was a burial chamber and in it the stone sarcophagus and inside the sarcophagus the mummy.
One can grow accustomed to anything, even fear. Fear was creeping up on me and yet I felt calmer than I had at the first realization that I was alone in this gruesome place.
I walked
a few paces. If there was a way out of this chamber . . . but to what would it lead . . . only to a long dead mummy. What I needed was a way out into the open, the fresh air.
I thought: There is little air in here. I shall use what there is in a short time. I shall die; and I shall lie here forever until some archaeologist decides to explore this place just in case it leads to a great discovery; and his discovery will be my dead body.
"Nonsense," I said as I had said so many times to Theodosia, "there must be something I can do."
The very thought inspired me with courage. I would not sit here quietly and wait for death. I would find the way out if it was to be found.
I picked up the lantern. I examined the walls again. I now saw some significance in the wall drawings. This was meant to depict the progress of a soul along the river Tuat. There was the boat on a sea from which rose hideous sea monsters, snakes with double heads, waves which enveloped the vessel; but above was the God Osiris, God of the Underworld and Judge of the Dead. This meant that he was giving his protection to the traveler in the boat and he would conduct him through the turbulent seas of the Tuat to the Kingdom of Amen Ra.
There was an opening in the wall. My heart leaped with hope. Then I saw that it was merely an alcove, similar in size to that one in which Yasmin and her lover had lain together.
As I examined it my foot touched something. I was startled and immediately thought of some of the horrible creatures I had seen rising from the river Tuat. I stooped and looked down. What I saw was not a hideous serpent but a gleaming object.
A matchbox! A small, gold box. What a strange thing to find in such a place. It was no antique piece. It belonged to this century. I turned it over in my hand and I saw the name engraved on it: E. Trovers.
Sir Edward's matchbox! Then he had been here!
I felt dizzy with this discovery. My incarceration was already having its effect. I could not think clearly. Sir Edward had been here at some time. What if it was the night when he had died? Had he died because he had been here? But he had gone back to the palace. He had told no one what he had seen, but Tybalt knew he had found something, something which excited him. Then he had eaten something which had been prepared for him. Who prepared his food? Mustapha and Absalam—those two who were branded with the Jackal, servants of the Pasha.
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