Tomb of the Golden Bird by Elizabeth Peters Page A

he had spoken since Ramses went down with a light, and it was clear to me that he was having some difficulty speaking calmly. "There appears to be a wooden lintel behind it. Peabody, I don't suppose you have such a thing as a drill on that belt of tools?" "I regret to say I do not, Emerson. I will make certain to carry one in future." "Good Gad," said Emerson, whether in response to my comment or in general, I cannot say. With Ramses's knife and an awl provided by the crew, a small hole was drilled through the beam. The wood was old and dry but very thick, so it took a while. It was like being spectators at a play—sightless spectators, since we were dependent on the reports of the actors instead of our own eyes. The suspense was not lessened thereby. It had not occurred to anyone, even Emerson, to object to Howard's mutilation of the lintel; only a mind completely lacking in imagination could have resisted the temptation to look beyond that blocked doorway. Ramses was the first to ascend the stairs. "Well?" I cried. He gestured toward Howard, who had followed him, with Emerson close on Howard's heels. "Well, Howard?" I demanded. "What is there?" "Rubble." Howard held the torch, which wavered about. "The space beyond the door is entirely filled with stones and chips, from floor to ceiling." "But surely that is good news," I said. "If the passage beyond—it must be a passageway—is closed, the tomb has been all these years undisturbed!" "Yes, I suppose so," Howard said flatly. "I—to tell you the truth, Mrs. Emerson, I am so worn down with suspense and excitement, I am incapable of thinking." "It has been quite a day," I said sympathetically. "You ought to go home and rest." Emerson said only, "Hmph." Howard's bowed shoulders straightened. "Not before I have filled in the excavation." "Filled it in! But surely—" "In fairness to Lord Carnarvon I must do so. He will want to be present when we take down the door." "But that will mean a delay of weeks," I cried. "How can you bear to wait?" "In fairness to his lordship, I must," Howard repeated. Emerson said, "Hmph." This grunt was particularly expressive. If Emerson had been allowed to take over the concession, there would have been no delay. On the other hand, if Emerson had been in charge, Howard would have been relegated to a subordinate role, and the glory, if glory there should be, would be Emerson's. It may have been this realization that consoled Howard. He sounded almost cheerful when he directed his crew to begin filling in the stairwell. "We will leave you to it, then," I said. "Congratulations, Howard." "A bit premature, perhaps," said Emerson. "The necropolis seals indicate that it was the burial of a person of importance, but the dimensions of the stairwell are not those of a royal tomb." "Never mind," I said, giving Emerson a little nudge with my elbow. "It is a tomb and it has not been entered for thousands of years. Just think, Howard, you have stolen a march on our tomb-robbing friends from Gurneh. They are only too often the first to find a new tomb." "You are babbling, Peabody," said Emerson, taking me by the arm. "Time we went home. Didn't you ask the Vandergelts to dine this evening? Speaking of tomb robbers, Carter, two of the ibn Simsahs were among the spectators this afternoon. Hope springs eternal in the breasts of those bastards." "I saw them too," said Howard somewhat huffily. "They can hope all they like, but there isn't a chance they can dig through the fill in the stairwell and the corridor without being caught in the act." "Hmph." Thus Emerson conceded the point. "Will you join us for dinner, Howard, after you have finished here?" I asked. "No, thank you, ma'am, it is most kind, but I am going straight to bed. As you so neatly put it, this has been quite a day." The tourists had departed and ours were the only horses left in the donkey park. Emerson helped me to mount, and as we rode slowly homeward, I said, "Emerson, you have done nothing