The Seventh Scroll - Smith Wilbur - Страница 102

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Von Schiller had gone ashen pale as he listened. Sweat headed upon his

forehead, and his voice was hoarse and chesty as he asked, "A -royal

mummy?"

"It may very well be so."

Slowly von Schiller moved closer to the sealed coffin on its trestle,

until he was staring down at the portrait of the dead man upon its lid.

"The golden uraeus of Mamose. The personal jewellery of a pharaoh." His

hand was shaking as he laid it on the coffin lid. "If that is so, then

this find exceeds our most extravagant hopes."

Von Schiller drew a deep steadying breath. "Open the coffin. Unwrap the

mummy of the Pharaoh Mamose."

It was painstaking work. Nahoot had performed the same task many times

before, yet never on the earthly remains of such an illustrious

personage as an Egyptian pharaoh.

Nahoot first had to establish where the joint of the lid lay beneath the

paint. Once he had done this, he could whittle away at the ancient

varnish and glues that secured the lid in place. Great care had to be

taken to inflict as little damage as possible: the fragile coffin in

itself was a priceless treasure. This work took the greater part of two

days.

When the lid was free and ready to be lifted, Nahoot sent a message to

von Schiller, who was in an executive meeting with his sons and the

other '  directors of his company in the library upstairs. Von Schiller

had refused to go into the city for this meeting: he could not bear to

be separated from his latest treasure. Immediately he heard from Nahoot

he adjourned the meeting until the following Monday, and dismissed his

directors and his offspring unceremoniously, Then, without waiting to

see them into their waiting limousines, he hurried down to the vaults.

Nahoot and Reeper had rigged a light scaffold over the coffin, from

which hung two sets of block and tackle. As soon as von Schiller entered

the vault, Reeper sent away his assistants. Only the three of them would

be present to witness the opening of the coffin.

Reeper brought him the carpet-covered block for him to stand on

and'positioned it at the head of the coffin, so that von Schiller would

be able to see inside as they worked. From this eminence the old man

nodded to them to proceed. The ratchets of the two blocks clicked, one

pawl at a time, as both Reeper and Nahoot gently put pressure on the

tackle. There was a faint crackling and tearing sound, at which von

Schiller winced.

"It is only the last shreds of glue holding the lid," Nahoot reassured

him.

"Go on!" von Schiller ordered, and they lifted the lid er six inches

until it hung suspended over the body anoth of the coffin. The

scaffolding was on nylon castors which rolled smoothly over the tiled

floor. They wheeled away the entire structure, with the coffin lid still

suspended from it.

Von Schiller peered into the open coffin. His expression changed to one

of astonishment. He had expected to see the neatly swathed human form

lying serenely in the traditional funereal pose. Instead, the interior

of the coffin was stuffed untidily with loose linen bandages that

entirely hid the body from view.

"What on earth-' von Schiller exclaimed with astonishment. He reached

out to take a handful of the old discoloured wrappings, but Nahoot

stopped him.

"No! Don't touch it," he cried out excitedly, and then  immediately

apologetic. "Forgive me, Herr von Schiller, was im but this is

fascinating. It strongly supports the theory of an exchange of bodies. I

think we should study it, before we proceed with the unwrapping. With

your permission of Herr von Schiller."

course, Von Schiller hesitated. He was anxious to discover what lay

beneath this rat's nest of old rags, but he realized the virtue of

caution and prudence now. A hasty move might do irreparable damage. He

straightened up and stepped down from his block.

"Very well," he grunted. He pulled a handkerchief from the breast pocket

of his dark blue doublebreasted suit jacket, and mopped the heavy sweat

from his face. His voice was shaky as he asked, "Is it possible? Could

this be Mamose himself?"

Stuffing the handkerchief back into his trouser pocket, he discovered

with mild surprise that he had a painful erection. With his hand in his

pocket he rearranged it to lie flat against his stomach. "Remove the

loose wrapp

"With your permission, Herr von Schiller, we should take the photographs

first," Reeper suggested tactfully.

Of course," von Schiller agreed at once. "We are scientists,

archaeologists, not common looters, Take the photographs."

They worked slowly, and von Schiller found the delay tantalizing. There

was no sense of the passage of time down here in the vault, but at one

stage von Schiller, now in his shirtsleeves, glanced at his gold

wrist-watch and was surprised to see' that it was past nine 'clock at

night. He unknotted his necktie, threw it on the bench where his jacket

already lay, and reapplied himself to the task.

Gradually the shape of a human body emerged from under the compacted

mass of ancient bindings, but it was after midnight when at last Nahoot

teased away the last untidy clump of old cloth from the mummy's torso.

They blinked at the glimpse of gold just visible through the neat layers

of bandages laid upon the corpse by the meticulous and skilful hands of

the embalmers.

"Originally, of course, there would have been several massive outer

coffins. These are missing, as are the masks.

Those must still be in Pharaoh's original sarcophagus, covering the body

of Tanus in the royal -tomb that still awaits discovery. What we have

left here is only the inner dressing of the royal mummy."

With long forceps he peeled away the top layer of bandage asVon

Schiller, perched on his block, grunted and shuffled his feet.

"The pectoral medallion of the royal house of Mamose," Nahoot whispered

reverently. The great jewel blazed under the arc light. Resplendent in

blue lapis lazuli and red carrielian and gold, it covered the entire

chest of the mummy. The central motif was of a vulture in flight,

soaring on wide pinions, and in its talons it clutched the golden

cartouche of the king. The craftsmanship was marvelous, the design

splendid.

"There is no doubt now," von Schiller whispered. "This proves the

identity of the body." cartOUc xt they unwrapped the king's hands,

clasped over the the great medallion. The fingers were long and

sensitive, each of them loaded with circle after circle of magnificent

rings. Clasped in his dead hands were the flail and sceptre of majesty,

and Nahoot exulted when they saw them.

"The symbols of kingship. Proof on proof that this is Mamose the Eighth,

ruler of the Upper and Lower Kingdoms of ancient Egypt."

He moved up to the king's still veiled head, but von Schiller stopped

him. "Leave that until last!" he ordered. "I am not yet ready to look

upon the face of Pharaoh."

So Nahoot and Reeper transferred their attention to the king's lower

body. As they lifted away each layer of linen, so were revealed scores

of amulets that the embalmers had placed beneath the bandages as charms

to protect the dead man. They were of gold and carved jewels and ceramic

in glowing colours and marvelous shapes - all the birds of the air and

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