It Happened in Egypt Part 45

"Not wrong, perhaps," Monny explained, "but--oh, I'm sure you understand. I'm sure in your hearts you both--you men--feel just as we do now we're in this wonderful secret place. That something forbids--I don't know whether it's something in ourselves or outside, but it's _here_. It says "No; whatever others do, _you_ cannot do this thing."

If you didn't feel it, you would have taken the pyramid out of those poor hands, and tried to tear off the rings, and open the coffin itself, to get at the mummy. But you haven't--either of you. You don't want to do it. You can't! I dare one of you to tell me it's only for Biddy and me that you've kept your hands off."

"We've come a long way, and have done a good deal to find this secret that we expected Egypt to give us," I said, dully, instead of answering her challenge.

Monny had no argument for me. She turned to Anthony.

"The secret you expected Egypt to give!" she echoed. "And hasn't Egypt given you a secret?"

"Yes," said Anthony, "Egypt has given us a secret: the greatest secret of all. But--"

"Is there a 'but'? I wonder if that isn't the only secret which one _can_ open and learn by heart, without breaking the charm?" Biddy seemed to be speaking to herself, but we heard. "The secret of love goes on forever being a secret, doesn't it, the more you find out about it, just as the world and its beauty grows greater and more wonderful the higher you climb up a mountain? But other secrets!--You find them out, and they're gone, like a bright soap bubble. Nothing can mend broken romance!"

"If we didn't touch anything here, what a memory this would be to carry away!" Monny said. "Don't you remember, Anthony, my saying once how I loved to dream of all the beautiful lost things, hidden beneath the sea and earth, never to be found while the world lasts, and stuck miserably under gla.s.s cases? You said you felt the same, in some moods. I love those moods!"

"I felt--I feel--so about things in general," Anthony admitted. "It was my romantic side you appealed to--"

"Have you a better side?"

"No better, but more practical. _This_ isn't 'things in general.' It's a thing particular, personal, and definite. If we should be quixotic enough not to take what we've earned the right to take, we should be called fools. Instead of claiming our half, the Egyptian government would get all--"

"Let it!" Monny cried. "A government is a big, cold, soulless --impersonality! It never could know the thrill that's in our blood this wonderful minute--or miss the thrill if it were destroyed. Do you mind being called a fool, Anthony--and you, Lord Ernest?"

Anthony was silent; but something made me speak. "I don't mind. You know, I've always been a Duffer."

"Our future largely depends on this," Fenton persisted, with a conscientious wish to persuade us--and himself.

"I believe it does!" Monny strangely agreed with him.

"What do you mean?" Anthony's voice was suddenly sharp with some emotion; which sounded more like anxiety than anger. "Do you mean, that if Ernest Borrow and I insist on our rights to whatever treasure is hidden here, you and Mrs. O'Brien will think less of us?"

"Not less. Nothing you could do would make us think less, after all that has happened to us, together. But--could it ever be as it has been--as beautiful, as sweet, with all the dearest kind of romance in our thoughts of you? You see, you _have_ the glory of finding the secret. Queen Candace saved it for you. She wouldn't give it to such a man as Colonel Corkran. She knew he wouldn't respect her. Maybe she hoped _you_ would. I seem to hear her saying so. All this gold, and the treasure we haven't seen, is hers. It's been hers for more than two thousand years. Why should we steal it? _We_ aren't a horrid, cold Government. It won't be our fault, whatever a Government may choose to do. She'll know that, and so shall we. Besides, we can beg to have the tomb kept like this for the great shrine of Meroe. Our memory of this place can't have the glamour torn away whatever happens. Nothing sordid will come between it and us, as it would if--why, after all, where's the great difference between opening the coffin of a woman dead thousands of years ago, or a few months? Supposing people wanted to dig up Queen Elizabeth, to see what had been buried with her? Or Napoleon?

What an outcry there'd be all over the world. This poor queen is defenceless, because her civilization is dead, too. Could _you_ force open the lid of her coffin, Lord Ernest, and take the jewels off her neck?"

"Just now, I feel as if I couldn't," I confessed humbly.

"And you, Anthony? What if _I_ died, and asked to have the jewels I loved because you'd given them, put on my body to lie there till eternity, and--"

"Don't," Anthony cut her short. "There are some things I can't listen to from you."

"And some things you can't _do_. You may think you could, but--Go and take the golden pyramid out of those golden hands if you can!"

"I shall not take it," said Anthony, "I shall never take it now. You must know that."

"I'm not saying I shan't go on loving you if you go against me. I shall love you always. I can't help that. But--"

"That's it: the 'but'. Let it all go! At least, we've had the adventure. And we've got Love. I don't want the treasure, now. Or the secret. I give up my part in them forever."

"For me?"

"Yes, for you. But there's something more."

"Another reason?"

"I think so. Frankly, it isn't all for you. Only, you've made me feel it. Without you, I might have felt it--but too late. If there's a drop of Egyptian blood in my veins--why, yes, it must be that, telling me the same thing that you have told. This Egyptian queen may lose her treasure, and must lose her secret; but it won't be through me."

"And because you wouldn't steal them, she has given you the secret and the treasure, the best of both, with her royal blessing," Biddy said.

"_This_ is what Ferlini's papers, and the legends, really meant for you and Ernest. Everything that's happened, not only in Egypt, but in our whole lives, has been leading up to the discovery of the Treasure and the Secret that we can take without stealing. Do you know what I'm talking about? And if you do, was it worth coming so far to find--this treasure that I mean, and this secret?"

"We know very well," Anthony said, "and _you_ know that we realize it was worth journeying to the end of the world for--or into the next."

"Or into the next!" Monny echoed. "Here we're on the threshold of the next. That's why the Queen's blessing feels so near."

THE END