Leopold Harding was very interested in what was happening at the site. Hadrian told me that he had met him once or twice and he always asked how things were going. He had been very sympathetic when we had believed the expedition had failed and had told Hadrian how pleased he was that hopes had been revived.
"He is longing to have a real look round," said Hadrian, "and has asked me if there is a hope of his joining this tour. He was delighted when Tybalt gave his permission. He invited me to go along to that storehouse of his. Would you like to come?"
I said I would so Hadrian and I went together.
It was a small shop on the edge of the souk, heavily padlocked, and I gathered that some of the pieces he had there were very valuable.
The small space inside was full of the most fascinating things. Leopold Harding glowed with enthusiasm as he pointed out various objects.
"Look at this folding stool. It's carved with interlaced foliage. You see the lions' heads on the upper terminals and the claws on the lower ends. I found it here but it might well be Scandinavian. But one never knows what one is going to pick up where. This could be twelfth century."
Hadrian had picked up a plaque. "Why look at this. I could swear this was genuine." I saw the profiled figures— a Pharaoh presenting gifts to Horus.
"A lovely piece," said Leopold Harding, "and it would fool most people. Wouldn't you think it had been plucked from the walls of a tomb? Not so. It is old—though not old enough. Three hundred years, I'd say. You can imagine how excited I was when that came into my hands."
Hadrian allowed Leopold Harding to take it from him very reluctantly, I thought.
"Look at this," went on Mr. Harding, picking up a box. "It's for jewels. See the ivory inlay and the small checkered panels on the lid. This is one of my most valuable pieces."
We admired the box and went from one object to another. He told us about the difficulties of getting the goods shipped to England and how glad he was when he was able to acquire jewelry or small pieces which he could carry himself.
He showed us some collar-necklets and earrings of lapis and turquoise cut and set in the Egyptian manner. I was fascinated by them. There was one statue which intrigued me. It was of the god Horus with his hawk-like face and at the feet of the god was a small and beautifully carved figure of a Pharaoh. Over this small figure the hawk-god towered protectively. It seemed to take on life; it was some five feet in height but as I looked, as though hypnotized, it appeared to grow to enormous proportions. I could not take my eyes from it. There was about it a quality which made me want to escape from it and yet held me there.
When I felt a touch on my shoulder I started. It was Leopold Harding and he was smiling at me.
"Fine, is it not?" he said. "A wonderful copy."
"What was the original?" I asked.
"That I never saw, but it was clearly meant to decorate some long dead Pharaoh's tomb. The sort of image which was put there to ward off tomb robbers." He turned to Hadrian. "But you would know more of that than I."
"I doubt it," said Hadrian. "I have never seen the inside of an undisturbed tomb."
"That image is certainly a little chilling, don't you agree? Now I want your opinion of this alabaster ornament. The Sphinx, no less. It's rather good. Quite valuable too. It's very cleverly carved."
We agreed and went on to examine the other interesting articles he had assembled, but I kept thinking of the stone Horus and whenever I turned to look at it, I imagined those hawk's eyes were on me menacingly.
It was certainly an interesting experience and when we left we told Leopold Harding so and thanked him warmly.
"One good turn deserves another," he said lightly. "Don't forget you are taking me on a tour of the site."
The party consisted of Terence Gelding, who was in charge, with Hadrian and Evan to assist him, Leopold Harding, the interested guest, Tabitha, Theodosia, and myself.
We went to the site in the evening when the workmen were not there.
I could never enter those subterranean passages without a thrill of excitement so I guessed how Theodosia would be feeling. She was now noticeably pregnant and leaned on Evan's arm; but I was surprised how reconciled she was and she seemed almost prepared to enjoy the adventure.
This was an excellent plan and it didn't seem too much to hope that this might induce Theodosia to cast aside her terrors and begin to be what Tabitha called "a good archaeologist's wife."
Terence had one lantern and Hadrian the other—Terence leading and Hadrian taking up the rear.
Theodosia clung to her husband's arm and gingerly picked her steps.
It was cold, of course, after the heat outside but we had been warned by Terence to bring light coats or wraps.
Terence lifted his lantern high and pointed out wall pictures of the gods and the Pharaohs. I recognized the Ram-headed Amen Ra, Horus the Hawk or was that Amen Ra too, for he was both Hawk and Ram? There was Anubis the Jackal, which reminded me of the mark on the arm of the men whose wound I had dressed and also I had seen it on the soothsayer's skin.
Terence was saying: "This was not the tomb of a very important man. These wall paintings have not been executed with the care that we have seen in some of the palaces—our own palace for one. It was evidently the last resting place of some minor potentate, a man of wealth, though, because even a secondary tomb must have cost a great deal. It could even be that several people were buried here."
"And made a sort of syndicate to pay for it?" asked Leopold Harding.
"Wouldn't they have been dead?" asked Theodosia and we were all delighted to hear her express interest.
"No," said Terence. "Long before their deaths, work was started on the tomb. In the case of a Pharaoh his went on for years and only stopped at the time of his death."
"When they were ready to use it," added Hadrian. "So the longer they lived the better the tomb, which seems hardly fair on the young. To be deprived of life and a fine tomb all at one stroke."
We proceeded carefully along the narrow passageway, Terence leading. Then the passage opened into a chamber. "This is not the burial chamber," said Terence. "That would be farther on. This pit you see here might have contained something which was removed when the tomb was robbed. It's hard to say. This wooden structure of a bridge was put up by us to be used when we needed to cross the pit to get into the passage just beyond. But first look at the engraving on this wall."
He held the lantern high and Theodosia, I believe in an endeavor to show Evan that she was unafraid, started to cross that wooden structure which did service as a bridge.
We were all horrified by what happened next. The bridge crumpled; Theodosia was thrown up into the air before she fell, taking part of the bridge with her down into the pit.
There was a terrifying silence which seemed to go on and on but which could only have lasted half a second.
Then I heard Hadrian cry: "Good God." I saw Evan. He was scrambling down into the pit; it was not easy to get down for it was a drop of some twelve feet.
Terence took charge. "Harding, go and get a stretcher somewhere. Get a doctor someone. Take this lantern." He thrust it into my hands. "I'll get down there." And then he was scrambling down and kneeling with Evan beside the prostrate form of Theodosia.
It was like a nightmare: the gloom of the tomb, the silence all about us, the limp unconscious Theodosia, the stricken Evan.
Everything seemed to take such a long time. Of course there were difficulties. We did improvise a stretcher but bringing Theodosia out of the pit on it was no easy matter; nor was conveying the stretcher along those passages. Terence proved himself a leader on that night and Tabitha was beside him, cool and authoritative. I did all I could to comfort Evan. He kept saying: "It's my fault. I should never have let her come here."
When we finally got Theodosia back to the palace we put her to bed. Her child was born that night—dead—a five months' girl. But it was Theodosia who gave us such cause for anxiety.
She remained unconscious and Tabitha, who had some experience of nursing, stayed with her while I sat with Evan in an adjoining room trying in vain to comfort him.
I kept saying: "It'll be all right. You've lost the child but you'll have another."
"If she comes through this," said Evan, "I shall never bring her away from home again. She was terrified. You know how frightened she was. She sensed disaster. It's my fault."
I said: "Nonsense. It's not your fault. Of course she came with you. You're her husband."
"She wanted to go back, and I kept her here. She was trying hard to adjust herself. Oh God, why didn't I go home."
"You couldn't," I assured him. "Your work was here."
"I did speak to Tybalt. But it was impossible to release me without a lot of trouble. He would have had to find a replacement."
Tabitha had come to the door. Evan was on his feet. She beckoned us to come in.
I looked at Theodosia's pallid face on the pillows; it was clammy with sweat and I would scarcely have recognized her.
A terrible desolation came to me. She was my sister and I knew she was going to die.
Evan knelt by the bed, the tears running down his face.
Theodosia opened her eyes.
"Evan," she said.
"My love," he answered, "my dear, dear love." "It's all right, Evan. I ... I'm not afraid . . ." She was aware of me. "Judith."
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