Pride and pyramids : Mr. Darcy in Egypt

Chapter 12

When Elizabeth and Darcy rode into camp after their romantic night at the oasis, they found it a mass of shouting and confusion.

“What is it?” asked Elizabeth as she slid from the camel. “What has happened?”

“Oh, Lizzy, is it not exciting?” asked Mrs Bennet, rushing out to meet them. “Edward has found the tomb. What riches we shall have! Bracelets and necklaces and crowns, too, I should not wonder. What a wonderful young man he is! How unfortunate that all my daughters are married, and my granddaughters not yet old enough to be betrothed, for I am sure he would make an excellent addition to the family. Mrs Long will be green with envy when we return home.”

“Is it true?” Elizabeth asked Sir Matthew, who was standing in the centre of the chaos and giving a string of clear, calm commands in Egyptian.

He broke off from directing affairs and said, “It is certainly true that he has found something. Exactly what remains to be seen. He was digging in the desert and his spade hit stone. Further excavation revealed that he had hit a flight of steps leading underground, which convinced him that he had found the entrance to a tomb. However, until we know more I would advise restraint. All too often, these early excitements give way to disappointment. The steps that seem to promise access to a burial chamber turn out to be an embellishment on the plinth of a statue or some such thing, and even if they do indeed prove to be something more, then all too often the tomb has been broken into by generations of grave robbers and there is nothing left inside but rubble and broken pottery.”

“Even so… do you think it could be the tomb of Aahotep’s lovers?” asked Elizabeth.

“It is certainly possible—the tomb is in the area missing on the map—but it is too early to say anything except that a few steps have been found.”

“You have told Edward this?” asked Darcy.

“Of course, but youth…” Sir Matthew shrugged expressively.

“Youth is optimistic,” said Elizabeth.

“I was going to say foolish, but you are kinder than I,” said Sir Matthew. “I would advise you to remain here in the camp until we know more.”

“Good advice,” said Darcy.

“But like all good advice, destined to be ignored!” said Elizabeth. “I have a mind to see the tomb, if it is a tomb, uncovered. I do not suppose I will ever have a chance to participate in such a discovery again.”

“Very well, if you wish,” said Sir Matthew, with a resigned look which said Wealthy patrons must be humoured.

“Oh, yes,” said Mrs Bennet. “What fun it will be.”

“There will be nothing to see for hours or even days,” said Darcy. “Would you not rather wait here until the tomb is revealed?”

“I do not see why I should have to stay behind,” said Mrs Bennet in an aggrieved tone of voice.

Elizabeth, better used to managing her mother, said, “Of course you must come. A little sand in the mouth and nose will not put you off, and when we enter the tomb, I am sure you will not mind the foul air and the desiccated mummies. It is more exciting than staying here in the cool of the camp, with drinks close to hand and nothing to do but gossip until we return with the treasure.”

Mrs Bennet paused, openmouthed, and then said, “But someone must stay behind and look after the children. I think, after all, I am the only person reliable enough to do it.”

Matters thus being settled, Elizabeth and Darcy returned to their tent, where they readied themselves for the excavation. When Elizabeth emerged, she was swathed from head to foot in a long muslin gown. She was wearing a hat to which she had attached a muslin veil. It not only would serve to keep the hot sun off her face but also would act as a useful guard against the sand which would be filling the air. Darcy wore a muslin cravat which could be pulled up and used in a similar fashion when the occasion demanded.

They were just going to join Edward, when they saw that he was with Sophie, but their tact was misplaced, for Edward brushed Sophie aside in his eagerness to continue his exploration. After a moment of looking hurt, Sophie quickly rallied and turned away from him, making a remark to Paul instead. Then, seeing Elizabeth, she said, “Might I speak to you for a moment?”

“But of course,” said Elizabeth, as Darcy excused himself to speak to Sir Matthew.

“I thought I should tell you that Margaret was sleepwalking again last night,” said Sophie. “Luckily, Edward and I saw her, and because we did not like to wake her, we followed her until she lay down and passed into a natural sleep, then we brought her back to the camp. She does not seem to have taken any harm from her experience; in fact, she seems in good spirits today. She is less interested in her doll than usual. I know you took it away from her, but she managed to find it again and I could not pry it out of her fingers last night. But she has put it down several times of her own accord this morning, and in another day or two I think she will forget all about it altogether. She has been far more interested in playing with her brothers and sisters, which I cannot help but think is a good thing.”

“I agree,” said Elizabeth. “It is lucky you saw her. I will make sure her nurse or her governess is with her throughout the night from now on, in case it happens again, but I should not worry about it. Lydia used to walk in her sleep, I remember. Papa declared it was because she was too energetic to lie down for ten hours at a time! Perhaps Margaret is more active at night here because she takes more naps in the day.”

“Yes, I expect that is it,” said Sophie, relieved.

“Are you coming with us to see the tomb?” asked Elizabeth.

“I am not sure…”

“Your reluctance has nothing to do with Edward being brusque, has it?” asked Elizabeth.

“It has nothing to do with Edward at all,” said Sophie, with a pride Elizabeth admired. “I will certainly join you.”

“Well, I am glad. I think it will be interesting.”

Elizabeth joined Darcy and Edward at the head of the procession of donkeys and camels. “I knew we would find the tomb. Did I not say so all along? Oh, I know what Sir Matthew says—it might all lead to nothing—but I am convinced, Darcy. It is the tomb our fathers searched for, and now we are about to enter it and make all their sacrifices worthwhile. Just think what this will mean for all of us!”

The procession made its way across the desert with Edward and Sir Matthew at its head. To begin with, Edward led the way confidently, guided by his compass, but as they progressed his camel went more slowly as he tried to remember exactly where the steps had been found.

They retraced their path several times and then he gave a cry of elation.

“Here!”

He slid down from his camel and ran over to the spot, his feet sinking in the sand as he did so. Sir Matthew followed at a more leisurely pace.

The fellahs, however, slowed their steps and at last came to a halt altogether, a hundred yards away from the site. The donkeys stopped beside them.

“What is it?” asked Elizabeth as a murmuring broke out.

“They say ‘Very bad place,’” translated Saeed. “‘Much magic here. Very, very bad place.’”

“Which means they want more money to go on,” said Sir Matthew. “It is always the way.”

“No, no, effendi; they say it is not money,” said Saeed, translating the babbling of the fellahs, who were huddled together as if for protection. “This place is under the sway of a magician, a very powerful magician; he has put a curse on the tomb so that no one may enter it. If they do, something terrible will happen.”

“What kind of terrible thing?” asked Sir Matthew, with a twinkle in his eye.

“Something terrible,” said one of the fellahs, who spoke a little English.

“Come, come, now, if you know so much, you must know more. Tell us what will befall us if we enter the tomb. Will we be struck down by a plague? Or will we meet with a terrible accident perhaps? Or will some afrit of the air whirl us away, or some water demon deluge us with a flood?”

Saeed translated, then translated the man’s reply: “These things are not a fit subject for laughing. The magician will take his revenge.”

“And how much money would persuade the men that it is worth braving the magician’s wrath?” asked Sir Matthew.

Saeed consulted with them.

“They would need much money, they say. They will be risking their lives and leaving their families destitute if the curse falls upon them. This is a very bad place, they say.”

As the haggling continued, Edward impatiently sprang from his camel and unfastened a spade.

“If you wish to see anything before sunset, or indeed before next week’s sunset, you might care to come with me,” he said to his cousins, then waded through the sand to the top of the exposed steps.

Elizabeth and Darcy followed him, curious to see what had been found. There were five steps uncovered, with piles of sand beside them.

Edward began to dig, and Darcy, returning to the camel for another spade, joined him.

Edward gave a lopsided grin.

“I knew you had the family obsession inside you somewhere,” he said. “Admit it; it is exciting.”

“It might be exciting, depending on what we uncover,” said Darcy.

“Well, that is a start,” said Edward.

As Elizabeth watched them, she felt her own excitement stirring. The steps were beautifully preserved, and as the two men dug deeper, more were uncovered, until at last Edward gave a cry.

“A door!”

Elizabeth ran down the steps and saw what had given rise to the cry. Climbing up from the bottommost step were two stone columns: doorposts.

Edward began to dig again and then, suddenly throwing down his spade, he hurried over to the workmen, who were still arguing and haggling for more money.

“Decide,” he said curtly, speaking to the men in their own language. “Either start digging, or start walking. I have no use for men who will not work.”

“The magician—”

“I know all about the magician and his curse,” said Edward. “Either take my money and brave the curse, or go home empty-handed. I will not have idle men on my dig.”

“Effendi—”

“Choose,” said Edward, in a tone that brooked no dissent.

There were a few more protests that the magician would appear and curse them all with a plague, but they were no more than halfhearted gestures, and before long it had all been resolved to everyone’s satisfaction. The fellahs had almost doubled their pay, and Edward had a small army to dig for him.

Work proceeded quickly. Sand was carried away in large baskets by the donkeys, and a palisade of palm wood was erected to prevent the sides falling back into the hole. As the doorway was gradually revealed, the sand around it was drenched with water from the Nile so that the sand would remain firm. The doorposts were decorated with hieroglyphs—“Powerful spells, effendi”—and between them stood an unbroken door.

“The seal is intact,” said Edward reverently. “We have found it.”

“There speaks the voice of inexperience,” said Sir Matthew dryly. “All the evidence points to this being a false entrance. There are only eight steps leading down to the door, and it would be more usual to find fifteen or sixteen steps, placing the tomb much deeper underground.”

But Edward was obstinate, saying, “This is Aahotep’s tomb; I know it.”

“If the stories are correct—and I will admit there is no reason why they should be—but if they are, then the tomb you are searching for is not the tomb of Aahotep but the tomb of the lovers she murdered,” Sir Matthew corrected him.

One of the men murmured and Saeed translated, “A tomb protected by a mighty magician, hired by the lovers’ families to guard them in death. Its desecration will bring down the wrath of the magician on our heads.”

“We are not going to desecrate it,” said Edward. “We are going to give Aahotep a chance to make amends.”

They looked at him in surprise, and Edward looked surprised himself, then said, “By showing us the treasures, of course!”

“And what, might I ask, do you intend to do with the treasures?” Sir Matthew asked.

“Display them, so that the world at large might see them,” said Edward.

“The world at large, or private collectors who are willing to pay handsomely for them?” enquired Sir Matthew.

But Edward was not listening. He was examining the hieroglyphs on the doors, brushing off the clinging sand with his fingers and revealing the intensity of the bright blues and reds and yellows. The beautiful and exotic markings were so brilliantly coloured that they might have been painted the previous day, not thousands of years before.

“Look!” he said. “The lovers are here! Their names are in the cartouches.”

Elizabeth saw that Sir Matthew was not convinced, despite the presence of the names. Nevertheless, he waved Edward aside and set about making a small hole in the top corner of the door.

“Is it not easier to break the seal?” asked Darcy.

“I want to discover if the passage beyond is blocked. It will help me decide how we should open the door,” Sir Matthew explained.

He gave a last chip with the chisel and broke a small hole in the plaster.

A murmur went up from the fellahs, who stumbled back as if expecting a djinn to appear through the hole and whirl them away on a cyclone or burn them in a geyser of flame. But when nothing happened they took courage and pressed forward again.

Sir Matthew lit a flambeau and by its light he peered through the hole.

“Well?” demanded Edward.

“The passage behind the door is not blocked,” said Sir Matthew.

“Then we will soon be inside,” said Edward.

“You misunderstand,” said Sir Matthew.

But Edward was not listening. He was already moving his hands toward the seal. Sir Matthew intervened, breaking it with care, and before long they were through. The stale air emanating from the gaping maw was enough to convince them that the door had not been opened recently, and indeed it smelled as if it had been there since the tomb was built.

Sir Matthew put a hand on Edward’s arm and advised caution, saying, “The supposedly magical plagues which affect archaeologists are often no more than natural illnesses brought about by the foul air inside these places. I suggest we withdraw to a convenient distance and take some food while the fellahs make the entrance safe, then rest over the heat of the day and return when the air grows cooler. We will post a guard to see that nothing is disturbed.”

“And will you trust your guard?” asked Elizabeth curiously.

“I will trust my own eyes, for I will not be so far away that I cannot see what goes on,” said Sir Matthew.

This plan was agreed upon. Edward could hardly eat for excitement and three times suggested that the time had come for them to return, only giving way to the opinion of others with the greatest reluctance. He paced about, full of restless energy, while the others rested.

“You do not seem very excited,” said Elizabeth to Sir Matthew, who ate without haste and with an air of calm. “Do you not think we have discovered the tomb?”

“No. As I tried to explain to your young cousin, the corridor behind the door is empty. If the tomb was of any importance then I would have expected it to be blocked with stones and rubble, in an effort to keep intruders out. I think what we have here is a false tomb, a small underground chamber designed to confuse grave robbers and make them give up in disgust.”

“Edward will be very disappointed,” said Elizabeth.

“Disappointment is the most common feeling when searching for buried treasure,” said Sir Matthew philosophically.

When the sun had passed its zenith and the air began to cool, Sir Matthew said they should proceed. Edward was greatly excited and sprang to the steps, descending them eagerly. On reaching the bottom, he covered his face with his handkerchief, for although the air was far sweeter than it had been, still it was not pleasant. Taking up a flambeau, he disappeared from view.

“Are you sure you want to go inside?” said Darcy to Elizabeth.

“I am,” she said, and she followed Edward through the doorway.

By the flickering light of the torch, she saw that she was in a small chamber and that the walls were covered with paintings of strangely flat-looking people whose bodies faced forward but whose heads and legs faced to the right. The men wore simple skirts, and their bronzed torsos gleamed nakedly in the red torchlight. The women wore white gowns. Their black hair reached to their shoulders and was cut square at the ends. There were hunting scenes and various depictions of gods and goddesses, among whom Elizabeth recognised a painting of the sun god Ra, with his head like that of a falcon and the disk of the sun above his head. Paul sketched them all with a quick, sure hand.

Edward did not stop to look at the marvellous paintings, however, but proceeded to the back of the room and then walked slowly around the walls until he came again to the door.

“I must have missed something,” he said.

“You have missed nothing,” said Sir Matthew. “As I suspected, this is a false tomb.”

“No!” said Edward.

“Alas, yes,” said Sir Matthew. “These discoveries are not infrequent; it does not do to be too disappointed.”

“But I was so sure,” said Edward. “I am still sure the tomb is here somewhere; I can feel it.”

“I think you are right,” said Sir Matthew. “You have missed the point entirely, young man. The existence of the false tomb shows us that we are on the right track. It was built in order to demoralise would-be grave robbers. If I do not miss my guess, the real tomb will be close by.”

Newly energised, Edward and Sir Matthew stayed in the desert with the fellahs, but the rest of the party announced their intention of returning to the camp.

“Are you going to come back with us, or are you going to stay a while longer?” Elizabeth asked Sophie.

Sophie was looking at Edward, but his back was turned to her and he took no notice of her, or of the question.

If he asked her to stay, she would, thought Elizabeth, seeing the expression on Sophie’s face. She would rather have Edward, but she is not the spiritless young woman who joined us in London and she will not allow another man to hurt her as Mr Rotherham did. Paul may win her yet.

“I have seen all I need to see,” said Sophie.

“Then might I give you my arm?” asked Paul.

As the two young people set off together, Elizabeth said in exasperation, “Edward is a young fool. He sees nothing but his tomb. It has been there for thousands of years and it will still be there tomorrow.”

“Whereas Sophie will not?” asked Darcy.

“No, she will not. And who can blame her?” asked Elizabeth. “Especially when a personable young man is doing his best to make himself agreeable to her.”

When they arrived back at the camp, the children and Mrs Bennet were still eating luncheon. Four more places were quickly set at the informal al fresco tables. The meal was simple but tasty with many of the unusual dishes they had learned to appreciate in the heat of the desert. Salads of cucumber, tomatoes, and chickpeas were a staple and the sweet stuffed peppers were quickly becoming a favourite with the children, as were melons and spiced oranges. Most of the conversation was taken up with the new discovery. Mrs Bennet at first expressed a wish to see it, but Elizabeth’s graphic descriptions of the unpleasant interior made a deep impression on her and she decided she would rather remain in the relative comfort of the camp.

After they had eaten and rested during the hottest part of the day, Paul set up his easel in the shade, but instead of painting any of the marvels he had seen, he asked Sophie to sit for him. She did so gladly, and as he painted in quick, assured strokes, they talked and smiled and laughed together and Paul was obviously enchanted.

When Elizabeth walked past the easel as afternoon turned to evening, she was not surprised to see an extraordinary portrait.

“When she sees that portrait, I fear Edward’s fate is sealed,” she said to Darcy.

“He has made his choice,” said Darcy, “although I cannot help feeling… but he had a chance to stop her leaving this afternoon, and yet he could think only of the dead.”

Elizabeth shivered.

“Cold?” he asked, shrugging out of his coat and putting it round her shoulders.

“Yes,” she said. “It is growing late.”

“Too late for a turn around the camp?” he asked, offering her his arm.

She took it willingly and they began to stroll in the pleasant cool of the evening. There was a breeze which ruffled her hair, blowing tendrils across her face, and he turned to face her, brushing the tendrils aside and looking down into her eyes with a tenderness that made her heart turn over.

“What fools these young people are,” he said. “I would like to be superior and say that I was never the same, but unfortunately that would not be true. I turned away from you just as Edward is turning away from Sophie. I cannot even plead that I did it with better cause, for I was motivated by pride, which is surely a worse reason than a desire to discover a piece of history. I cannot believe how lucky I was to be given a second chance. I only hope that Edward is given the same.”

“Are you motivated by partiality?” asked Elizabeth as they walked on again.

“No. I think she would be good for him, and he for her.”

“Whereas she would not be good for Paul Inkworthy?”

“I think she would be good for any man, but I doubt if he would be good for her. I have had a chance to talk to him on many occasions, and it seems to me that he is already in love with his art. I pity any woman who had to compete with that for more than a few months. A beautiful face will attract him, but when he sees one more beautiful, and one he prefers to paint?”

“So you think his interest in her is only that of an artist?”

“I am not certain of it, but I think it might be the case, yes. Only time will tell.”

Elizabeth was thoughtful. “It will be interesting to see how their tangled feelings unravel themselves. But of one thing I am certain: I am glad that I am not courting again. I remember thinking that no amount of future happiness could make up for the turmoil I endured when I did not know if you loved me and if you would ever propose again.”

“And were you right? Has your future happiness fallen short?” he teased her.

“No!” she said with a laugh. “Even so, it was an uncomfortable time. I would much rather be here with you now, secure in your love and happy in my marriage.”

“There are times when we argue, but with that I can only agree.”

***

Sir Matthew’s prophecy had been correct. After a few days’ further searching, another set of steps was found about half a mile away from the original chamber. Sir Matthew, together with Edward and the fellahs, worked tirelessly to excavate the steps and promised to send word to the camp when the door was reached.

And that was not the only good news. As Elizabeth sat sunning herself early one morning, she was distracted by the sound of the children arguing beyond the tents. She was spared from pursuing the problem herself by the sight of Margaret running toward them.

“Mama, Papa, Laurence has hidden my doll and won’t tell me where it is,” she said.

“Your doll, Meg?” asked Darcy in surprise, noticing that she held the wooden doll—still sometimes in her possession, though less than before.

Margaret looked down at the rather grubby figure disdainfully.

“Not this one, Papa,” she said and threw it on the sand. “Mama bought me a beautiful new doll in Cairo with a red and green dress and sparkling veil and black slippers, and I want to play with it and Laurence won’t—”

“Come with me, darling,” said Mrs Bennet, getting up and taking her granddaughter’s hand. “I’m sure Laurence is only teasing you and when Grandmama explains how important your new dolly is to you, he will gladly return it…”

She led Margaret away.

For a moment Darcy and Elizabeth were speechless; then they both laughed at the same time.

“Well, at last Madam Aahotep has been ousted from her spot as most favoured toy,” said Darcy, picking up the discarded doll and brushing off a few specks of sand. “Do you know, just for a moment…”

He broke off.

“Just for a moment you thought the doll was alive, inhabited by the evil spirit of Aahotep?” asked Elizabeth.

Darcy looked embarrassed.

“You were not the only one. I must confess that, for a while, so did I. And Sophie, I think, has entertained similar notions. Even Edward has once or twice said something that has made me think he distrusted it, too. But it is nothing but a doll, after all.”

“And one Margaret has finally tired of,” said Darcy.

“Not before time,” Elizabeth replied with relief. “Here, let me take it. I will put it in my embroidery basket. Out of sight means out of mind, and I think we should do everything we can to encourage Margaret’s change of heart.” So saying, she took the doll from Darcy’s hand and buried it deep at the bottom of her workbasket, hiding it among many skeins of wool and silk.

“I agree. It will do Meg no harm at all to concentrate on her other toys. But I wonder why the sudden change.” Without being aware of it, he looked across to the direction of the new campsites beyond the oasis. Elizabeth followed his gaze.

“You are thinking that because Edward and Sir Matthew have indeed found the tomb of the two lovers, Aahotep no longer needs our daughter?” she teased him.

“It is a fascinating thought,” Darcy admitted.

Elizabeth leaned across and laid a cool hand on his cheek. She knew Margaret, as his youngest daughter, held a special place in his heart and seeing her sleepwalking had frightened him more than he would ever care to admit.

“It is coincidence, nothing more, my love,” she said softly.

Darcy took her hand and kissed it.

“Let us see if the children would like to go for a camel ride.”

Laughing, they set off in search of their family.

***

The second find proved more promising than the first, and when the entire set of steps had been revealed, a new excitement filled the camp. Darcy and Elizabeth were eager to see the new discovery, and the children were no less excited. Sophie, too, expressed an inclination to visit the excavations. There was a look of lingering longing on her face, and Elizabeth thought, So it is Edward after all. She has her pride and will not let him see it, but it is still Edward she dreams about.

They made the journey out into the desert in the early morning, when the sun was just rising and casting pink shadows over the dunes. The dig was visible from some distance and they quickened their step until they were at the scene. Sir Matthew came to meet them, his face wreathed in smiles.

“This will be much more worth your while to inspect,” were his first words as they walked toward the tunnel, which was protected with awnings.

“It was all Sir Matthew’s doing,” said Edward with enthusiasm. “He seemed to know exactly where to go almost as though he could have done it blindfolded.”

Sir Matthew looked pleased. “Many years of experience, my young friend. When you’ve seen as many tombs as I have, you gain an instinct for this kind of work. Perhaps Mr and Mrs Darcy would care to see what we have uncovered so far.”

Mr and Mrs Darcy did and were thrilled by the hieroglyphs embedded in the steps already uncovered, as was Paul, who had been hard at work.

“We found a chest in the first chamber,” Edward continued.

Sophie congratulated him, but he hurried into the gaping hole without a word of reply.

It was left to Sir Matthew to lead them across to the awnings by the new tomb. The fantastically coloured canvas stretched far beyond the mouth of the tomb and gave much needed shade to the entrance. They descended the steps, and at the bottom they saw the final steps give way to a vast portal through which the workmen streamed continuously, carrying baskets of stones and rubble.

“Sir Matthew was right, then, when he said the entrance to the true tomb would be blocked with rubble,” Darcy remarked.

“Indeed, sir. Come, you should see what has been uncovered so far. Perhaps the children should remain behind at first,” Paul added. “The tunnel is quite cramped and will admit only a few at a time.”

Immediately John and Laurence began to complain, but it was clear to Darcy that there would not be enough room inside for the entire family, and it was promised to the children that they would be allowed to return later. Instead, Saeed offered to take them to the false tomb with many promises of gruesome drawings, and they left eagerly enough.

“This way,” Sir Matthew said, lighting a torch near the entrance.

Slowly Darcy and Elizabeth made their way down the steps, with Sophie and Paul close behind them. They stopped to stare at the doorway. It was covered with fabulous designs of bird-headed men and slaves carrying priceless possessions. Above it all was the golden face of the sun with rays spilling away and covering all around with its life force. Against the flickering of the torch it made an eerie picture, and Elizabeth could not suppress a shudder.

They could see straightaway that the workmen had been busy. The tunnel was long and dark, barely high enough to accommodate the average man and no more than four feet wide. As they followed Edward, squeezing continuously to the side to allow the workmen to pass by them with their baskets, they saw more drawings. These seemed more intimate in nature, depicting what were clearly a man and a woman hand in hand in some designs and seated opposite each other in several frames, on boats and on land. The smell was a curious mixture of damp earth and stale air.

At the end of the tunnel were several torches and they could see, and more importantly hear, Edward talking excitedly to his mentor. He turned as they caught up with him, his eyes feverish and his words very fast.

“Darcy and Elizabeth! Is this not wonderful? And you have arrived at the most opportune moment. Sir Matthew thinks we have reached the door to the tomb itself and I am sure—yes, I am sure—he is right!”

“Is this true, Sir Matthew?” Darcy asked.

But even as they reached their friends and Paul held up his torch, he could see that they were indeed looking at another door with even more fabulous exotic drawings. As Sir Matthew nodded, the workmen removed the last few pieces of rubble and the doorway stood in front of them, at last ready to be breached.

“I am hopeful that we will find something of great historical interest here, gentlemen, ladies,” he said as he examined the door seals, brushing specks of dirt away and tracing the designs reverently. “As you can see, the hieroglyphs are much more intricate and elegant than at the false tomb—and still intact, which strongly suggests no one has ever broken through. Well, well. Now let us see what is beyond.”

He took a chisel and, working slowly and with infinite patience, began to break the seal. Behind him it was almost possible to see steam coming from Edward’s ears as he fought to control his own impatience. But Sir Matthew seemed unaware of his young protégé’s eagerness and continued to work with a calm unhurried air.

At last he had worked his way round the entire door, and they were ready to proceed. Darcy and Elizabeth moved back to allow the fellahs, along with Edward and Sir Matthew, to push against the door. It seemed to take a long time and Elizabeth thought the door would never budge, but finally there was a sound of stone moving against stone and Sir Matthew’s eyes widened in surprise for a moment. Then they all felt it—a waft of hot air against their faces. The tomb was open.

The fellahs moved back, muttering to themselves, clearly not eager to be the first into the tomb in case of some potent curse. But Edward suffered no such inhibitions. He strained against the door one last time, pushing it wide open, then picked up a torch. At the last moment he hesitated a second, then with a glance at Sir Matthew, who nodded, he put a foot past the doorway and disappeared from their sight.

“Mr Darcy, Mrs Darcy, wait here a second,” Sir Matthew cautioned. “You too, young Inkworthy. I would like to…”

He got no further. There was a shout of unbridled pleasure from within the tomb and then Edward’s face appeared round the door again, covered in cobwebs and eerily flushed in the flickering orange flames of the torch.

“It is fantastic!” he cried. “You must come see immediately. But take care, the flooring seems rotten in places and some of the Nile has crept in over the aeons. Do you see?”

He held up his left foot and they saw his boot was soaking wet well up to his ankles. He disappeared again almost immediately. More cautiously, the others followed. The workmen did not.

As Elizabeth and Darcy entered the tomb they could not help but give gasps of amazement. It was as unlike the false chamber as it was possible for two spaces to be, and they both understood straightaway why Sir Matthew had been so skeptical when he saw it. This new tomb was vast, cathedral-like in its dimensions, stretching what must have been fifty feet up above them and away beyond their sight. Their footsteps echoed along the walls and back again. And in between were vast stores of possessions—chests and boxes, all gaily bedecked in the most brilliant oranges and yellows and reds, all the colours of the rainbow. A boat stretched out across the centre of the room and as they turned and surveyed the tomb, the light from their torches constantly set off hundreds of thousands of twinkling lights from jewellery that littered the whole place. It was like an exotic fairyland.

But like all stories of fairyland, there was a sinister twist. As they moved farther in, unable to take their eyes off all the treasures in front of them, Edward lurched forward suddenly. He gave a sickening cry that set Elizabeth’s heart racing and then seemed to disappear right before their eyes. At the last moment Darcy caught him by his arm and dragged him back to where they were standing. Sir Matthew and Paul swept their torches down to the floor and they all gasped. The entire chamber was ringed with a moat which was invisible to the naked eye in the gloom. It needed the merciless illumination of fire to make it detectable and as they peered into its depths, Paul’s foot dislodged some stones which fell into the abyss. It was at least ten seconds before they heard the sound of the pebbles hitting the floor.

“And that, gentlemen, is how the ancients kept grave robbers on their toes,” said Sir Matthew dryly. “My dear sir, you must take far greater care in here.”

Edward said nothing. His face was parchment white, and for a moment the excitement that had been almost tangible in his face disappeared. Then he nodded and took hold of Darcy’s arm.

“My profound thanks, cousin,” he said, passing his hand over his eyes.

Darcy nodded in reply and gripped his cousin’s arm tightly. Then he turned to Elizabeth.

“How are you, my love?”

“Very well, Darcy,” she replied, only slightly disconcerted by the wobble in her voice. “But I fear we must disappoint the children. They cannot be allowed in here now.”

“Indeed not,” Darcy replied fervently. “In fact I do not see how anyone can get past this obstacle.”

“I have heard of this device before, Mr Darcy,” said Sir Matthew, walking slowly along the moat. “It merely needs the application of some sturdy walkways to act as a temporary bridge. The moats are deep but not usually very wide. I think we will be able to accommodate such needs and then we will be able to touch these sumptuous treasures. This is truly a magnificent find. Well done, young Fitzwilliam. I confess that when you first came to me back in London with your plans, I expected that I had heard nothing more than a colourful fairy tale. But this is outstanding.” He shook Edward’s hand vigorously, looking very pleased.

They spent a little more time examining the treasures that were tantalisingly out of reach, taking care to keep well away from the moat. Then gradually, curiosity overcoming their fears, the fellahs started coming in and soon the chamber was alive with the sound of human voices for the first time in thousands of years.