should all practice this more, I think.”
“Happy? He was ecstatic. You should have seen his face when I gave him the bundle,” she said. “I could not bring myself to tell him that ordinarily we just throw them away.”
“One good deed breeds others,” Englebert declared. “Good will come of it.”
And he was right. The next day just before closing time, a message came to Wilhelmina from her young alchemist. It was delivered by a liveried servant of the court, who said, “I am to await your reply.”
Wilhelmina accepted the parcel-a small square of parchment tied with red ribbon and sealed with wax.
“I wonder what it can be,” she said, turning the square in her hands and studying the seal carefully.
“Open it and find out!” urged Englebert, eyes glinting merrily.
She broke the seal and unfolded the thick parchment, scanning the flowing script there. “I can’t follow it,” she said, handing the message to Etzel. “You read it.”
The big man grasped the parchment and, holding it close to his face, began to read it out aloud, pausing to exclaim, “It is from the master of royal audiences!” He gazed at the parchment, his eyes growing large. “Did you hear? We are summoned to the palace tomorrow to receive the thanks of the emperor’s Lord High Alchemist. We are to be granted an honour.”
Mina expressed her amazement at the summons and asked, “What kind of honour?”
Etzel scanned the page again, very carefully. “It does not say.” He glanced at the waiting messenger, then at Mina. “What should we tell them?”
“Tell them that, of course, we would be delighted to attend,” she said.
Etzel relayed this reply to the messenger, who made a small bow and informed them that a carriage would call for them at this time tomorrow, and that they should array themselves appropriately, for they could expect to dine with the emperor’s retinue.
“This is because of your gift,” Etzel said when the messenger had gone. “You have made friends at court- friends in high places.”
“Do you think so?” she wondered, flattered and impressed.
“In truth,” replied Etzel solemnly. “What else can it mean?”
CHAPTER 26
In Which a Sealed Tomb Gives Up Its Secrets
Sunrise was still some while off, but Burleigh could feel the coolness of night wilting and the day’s heat beginning to build-as if an oven had been lit and was being stoked somewhere beyond the horizon. It would be another scorcher, no surprise there, but he had prepared himself as best he could and was determined to enjoy the day. He had purchased a suit of loose, camel-coloured linen, complete with pith helmet, and a white kaffiyeh to keep the sun off his neck. Now, as he sat in the back of Lord Carnarvon’s customised touring car, jouncing along an unmarked path, watching the pale arid hills undulate past his open window, he wondered what the day would bring. Certainly, his host was in exceptionally high spirits.
The location of the tomb was being kept a close secret. Although rumours were rife, and many knew that excavation was taking place, only four people in the world knew where to find the site. Despite this, it had proved no great difficulty to a man of Burleigh’s skill and power of persuasion to wangle an invitation to attend the opening. His own knowledge and appreciation of Egyptian history and artefacts no doubt played a major part in convincing Carnarvon that he was genuinely interested in supporting the nascent science of archaeology; nor did his charm and good looks hurt his case where Lady Evelyn, Carnarvon’s daughter, was concerned. After drinks and dinner on the terrace at the hotel, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to invite him, a fellow countryman of one’s own class, to accompany them and witness what was surely going to be a monumental occasion.
“Have you visited excavations before, Lord Burleigh?” asked Evelyn. Dressed in a loose linen shirt and trousers, her hair hidden beneath a scarf, she sat in the jump seat of the jouncing sedan facing her father and his guest.
“Once or twice,” Burleigh replied, forgoing mention of the fact that his visits tended to be after midnight when the site guards had been bribed to look the other way. “I find it all endlessly fascinating, of course, but I never seem to be in the right place at the right time, if you see what I mean.”
“Today will be the exception,” Carnarvon informed him grandly. “I anticipate great things. Great things! I don’t mind telling you I scarcely slept a wink last night. I rarely do on such occasions.”
“Father is like a fretful child on Christmas Day,” Evelyn confided lightly. “He always feels someone else will get there before him and steal all his presents from under the tree. I myself slept like a baby.”
“This tomb,” said Carnarvon, “is thought to be a royal tomb. Very rare. Although we cannot be completely sure until we open it, Carter is convinced-at least, as convinced as one can be at this stage of the dig-that we have found something very special.” He tapped his knee lightly with his fingertips. “Very special indeed.”
“And I must thank you again for allowing me to be a witness to this historic occasion,” Burleigh volunteered. “Incredibly generous of you.”
“Nonsense!” bluffed Lord Carnarvon. “I won’t hear of it. Your presence falls in with my purposes admirably well. We want credible corroboration for our finds, you know-even as we desire secrecy right up until the moment the grave is opened.”
“Publicity, in other words,” Lady Evelyn added in a lightly mocking tone. “Father is never averse to a little publicity for his activities. It’s the thrill-seeker in him. He used to race cars, you know, for the same reason.”
“Now, now,” chided her father, “we’ll not bore our guest with that old chestnut.” Glancing at the earl, he asked, “Have you ever raced?”
“Horses, yes,” he replied, the lie slipping easily off his tongue. “As a lad-until I grew too big. Cars? Never- though I’ve often wondered if I might like to try. I suspect I’m a bit too long in the tooth now.”
“Pish-tosh,” scoffed Lady Evelyn. “You’re never too old to race automobiles. Father only gave it up because he injured himself in a crash. Otherwise, I harbour not the slightest doubt you’d find him in a grease pit at Brooklands right this very moment.” She nudged her father’s shin with the toe of her shoe. “Admit it, Daddy,” she said, “if not for the crash, we wouldn’t be in Egypt now.”
“My daughter exaggerates terribly,” allowed the Earl of Carnarvon. “But I did enjoy racing-almost as much as I enjoy a good dig. In retrospect, it was for the best-the crash, that is. Egypt has engaged me in ways that racing never could. I’ll admit that after the accident it filled the gap. I’ve put all my energies into my excavations since then.”
“Will Mr. Carter mind me tagging along?” wondered Burleigh.
“Can’t think why,” said Carnarvon. “I pay the bills. I can invite whomever I jolly well please. In any case, he’s a most amenable chap, Howard Carter. Extremely knowledgeable. You’ll like him once you get to know him.”
“I look forward to meeting him,” said Burleigh.
“You won’t have long to wait. We’re almost there,” Carnarvon announced. Leaning forward, he pointed past the driver through the windscreen to the hilltop rising before them. “It’s just over the next rise. We’re there in two minutes.”
At the top of the hill, the car braked and then started slowly down a steep, rocky incline along which a rudimentary serpentine road had been scratched for the few vehicles tending the site. They proceeded down to the valley floor and turned into a narrow, steep-sided ravine. They followed the undulating gorge deeper into the hills, the vehicle headlights sweeping the sides of the wadi until at last it opened out at a junction where two other ravines joined the first.
Even in the predawn gloom, Burleigh could make out a ramshackle camp made up of a few rough wooden shacks and canvas and timber awnings stretched over shallow holes in the ground; three tents large as houses stood in a line to one side; several smaller black Bedouin tents with tiny campfires lay scattered around the periphery.
The sedan rolled to a crunchy stop and the passengers disembarked. The larger tents were empty, the occupants already at work. “Carter will be at the dig,” called Carnarvon. “This way. Follow me, but watch your step!” He strode off into the near darkness.
