There was a King in Egypt Part 54

Meg pulled-her brother's face down to the level of her own and whispered, "Heavenly, Freddy, heavenly!"

CHAPTER X

"Does my master feel refreshed?"

It was Abdul who spoke, as he wakened Michael after his midday siesta on the day which had brought them within sight of the Promised Land.

It had been a morning of intense heat; the desert held not one breath of air. The spell of Egypt, which is its light, had vanished; the vast emptiness was as colourless as Scotland in an east wind. Piled up on his camel, Michael had ridden under a raised shelter, such as is used by caravan travellers on long journeys. It was made of bamboos, bent into half-hoops and covered with a light canvas. Abdul had been afraid of exposing his master, in his uncertain state of health, to the full force of the desert sun. Michael had been very grateful, for during the last two days it had made him feel sick and his head had ached perpetually.

"A touch of the sun," was Abdul's expressive description of his condition. He knew the symptoms only too well, and fortunately he also knew how to treat them.

In answer to Abdul's question, Michael yawned and stretched out his arms. "Yes, greatly refreshed, Abdul. How long have I slept? What time is it? I feel very much better."

"The Effendi's words give happiness to his servant," Abdul said. "With care my master will enjoy good health in a day or two."

"I'm all right now, Abdul. That last compress has done me a world of good. My headache has lifted." It was characteristic of Michael's temperament that when he was down, he was very, very down, and when he was up, he bounded and became scornful of all care and precautions.

"Everything is in readiness when my master is ready," Abdul said.

"There are still three hours before sunset."

Michael rose from the impromptu couch which Abdul had made for him under the shadow of a mighty rock. The desert was no longer a sh.o.r.eless sea of golden sand; they were reaching the reef of hills which was their objective.

When Michael found himself on his feet and ready to mount his camel--that undignified proceeding, which always made him realize his own helplessness and evoked from the camel ugly roars of justifiable resentment--he found himself scarcely as fit as he had thought; he was giddy and still distressingly tired. It was very annoying, not feeling up to his best form, now that they were drawing so close to the exciting spot. He had imagined that he would feel like a gold-miner hurrying to peg out his claim, instead of which he was conscious of but one feeling, physical and nervous exhaustion.

He braced himself up. The air was cooler; a little breeze was lifting the sand and carrying its invisible atoms across the surface of the desert. How many times on his journey he had seen this noiseless drifting of the sand! Now, as he watched it from his high seat, it made him think of the saint's grave. Even in this short time much sand would have collected on the mound which covered his bones.

This ceaseless drifting of the sand was an object-lesson which ill.u.s.trated very practically the complete obliteration of Egypt's ancient cities and lost civilizations. Michael knew that on such a day as this he had only to lay some small object down in the desert, and very soon an acc.u.mulation of sand would gather round it. After a little time the object would be completely lost to sight, and in its place there would be a little mound, which would grow and grow as the years rolled on, until it became a feature in the landscape. In such a way were the neglected temples of the G.o.ds saved from the ravages of fanatics.

To Michael this provision of Nature, this preserving of the world's earliest treasures and story, was very beautiful. It meant a great deal more than the mere acc.u.mulation of wind-blown sands; it meant that the Creating Hand is never still, that the making of the world is eternal. In Michael's opinion there was no doubt but that Egypt's priceless treasures had been designedly hidden, that the Author of Nature had preserved them until such a time as mankind was capable of appreciating them and guarding them. The drifting sands--ever at the caprice of the four winds to those who have eyes to see and see not--have saved Egypt's history, which is written in stone.

Reflecting, as was his wont, on these side-issues of the world's evolution, he journeyed on. The breeze was stiffening, a cool, invigorating breeze, which had cleared the sky and brought some white clouds into it. In the Valley of the Tombs of the Kings the heavens rarely held a cloud; in the eastern desert his travels had carried him northwards, where the dews are heavier and the sudden changes in the temperature less noticeable.

With the cooler atmosphere his spirits rose, his vitality quickened.

Wonderful pictures danced before his eyes, pictures which he had seen over and over again, his first visualizing of the treasure. The vision had never been far from his mind. He could see himself inspecting the bars of gold which Akhnaton had hidden in the hills, and fingering the ancient jewels while he thought once more of the story he had been told by a member of an excavating camp in Egypt. The story rea.s.sured him: Some native workmen, belonging to the camp, had come across a number of terra-cotta crocks hidden under a flight of steps. They were full to the brim of bars of pure gold. The gold had obviously been thrust into the jars very hurriedly. The theory they suggested to experts was that the citizens, suddenly becoming alarmed by the approach of a besieging army, had thrust the wealth of the public treasury into the jars and hidden them in the hollow behind the steps of a staircase in some public building. If the Romans ever besieged the city, they had overlooked the jars and so the gold had remained in its simple hiding-place until the enthusiasm of modern Egyptologists discovered it. In the jars there was sufficient gold to pay for a year's excavation on the historical site.

Michael knew that such things were possible in Egypt, where tales as wonderful as any in _A Thousand and One Nights_ are still being enacted. Egypt's buried treasures are infinite. In that land of amazing discoveries there has been nothing more amazing than the means of their discovery.

High up in the blue, on his swaying seat on the camel's back, he felt like a man in a cinematograph-theatre, gazing upon film after film as it came into view and dissolved away.

The desert was the stage, his thoughts were the films. At one moment the picture presented was his old friend in el-Azhar, rejoicing in the knowledge that Michael's journey was accomplished, the treasure realized. He could see the African's eyes glowing like living fire; he could hear his sonorous chanting. His next vision was of Margaret and her triumphant happiness; the next his own troubles and embarra.s.sments, the troubles of too great wealth. What was he to do with the treasure now that he had discovered it? There were new laws and stringent regulations and restrictions which must be adhered to; the Government had become more grasping.

But these troubles he put aside. "Sufficient for the day was the finding thereof," the proving to scoffers that visionaries had legs to stand upon as well as heads. He could hear Freddy's boyish laugh, a laugh of sheer incredulity and amazement, and while Freddy laughed he could see and feel Margaret's eyes shining with victory. It made him very nervous and excited to think that soon he would be able to actually touch and examine the treasure and sacred writings of the world's first divinely-inspired prophet. The doubts of his material mind would be forever silenced when his fingers had held the jewels and his eyes had seen the gold.

Again he felt convinced that the spirit of Akhnaton had selected him to do this work. Freddy had been chosen to bestow upon mankind the contents of the royal tomb, which held such a ma.s.s of confounding matter. We are all the chosen workers in the Perfect Law, units in the Divine State.

As he rode on and on, he wondered what Abdul was thinking about, what his feelings were. Was he antic.i.p.ating disappointment or success?

What had his eyes seen?

They were approaching the spot indicated by the saint. It would, of course, take them some time to discover the chamber which held the hidden treasure, but it was sufficiently thrilling to be drawing nearer and nearer to the hills. The canvas had been removed from his sun-shelter; only the framework remained. It looked like the skeleton-ribs of an animal against the blue of the sky.

Suddenly Abdul came riding forward. He had something to say; he never disturbed Michael's meditations unnecessarily.

"Does the Effendi see anything in the distance?"

"No, Abdul, nothing. What do you see?"

Abdul's calm voice had betrayed a little emotion.

"Look once more, Effendi--over there, to the left, close to the hills."

Michael looked, and while he looked he was conscious of an ominous atmosphere in the silence.

"Can the Effendi see nothing?"

"No, Abdul, absolutely nothing. Yet I thought my eyes had improved, my seeing-powers developed. I was vain enough to think they were pretty good."

"For Western eyes they do see far, Effendi. You must allow some few privileges for those who are deprived of the benefits of civilization."

They rode on in silence.

"You can see something now, Effendi?" Abdul's voice trembled as it broke the stillness. "It is very clear now, O my master."

"Is it a mirage, or what, Abdul? What am I to see?"

"No mirage, Effendi--I wish it were one."

"Then out with it!" Michael said impatiently. He had not the vaguest idea what Abdul was hinting at; his mind had no room for side issues.

"What desert monster lies in waiting for us? Don't make such a mystery out of nothing!"

"It is the Khedivial flag, O Effendi. I see it fluttering in the breeze."

"The Khedivial flag?" The words conveyed no meaning to Michael; the reason for its being there did not penetrate his brain. "What is there to trouble us about the Khedivial flag, Abdul?'"

"_Aiwah_, Effendi, do not feel anger in your heart for your servant when he tells you what it means."

"We ate the salt of our covenant together, Abdul, on the night when you brought the saint in your arms to my camp. I can never forget that you are more than my servant. You are my friend and companion."

"Our faith is a gift of G.o.d, Effendi, and all the good works we perform are the effects of a principle implanted and kept alive within us by the Spirit of G.o.d."

"Granting that is so, Abdul, which I do, nevertheless, the covenant of our friendship is sacred. Tell me, why does the flag trouble you?"

"Can my master see it now? Can he not distinguish any other objects?"

Michael looked again. They had travelled quickly. As he looked his heart stopped beating; his brain became confused; he felt like a drunken man. Clearly his eye had seen!