I did not want
any book whilst she was present. We sat close together and talked in a
whisper whilst the moments flew by. It was with surprise that I noted
the edge of the curtains changing from grey to yellow light. What we
talked of had nothing to do with the sick man, except in so far that
all which concerned his daughter must ultimately concern him. But it
had nothing to say to Egypt, or mummies, or the dead, or caves, or
Bedouin chiefs. I could well take note in the growing light that
Margaret’s hand had not seven fingers, but five; for it lay in mine. When Doctor Winchester arrived in the morning and had made his visit to
his patient, he came to see me as I sat in the dining-room having a
little meal—breakfast or supper, I hardly knew which it was—before I
went to lie down. Mr. Corbeck came in at the same time; and we resumed
out conversation where we had left it the night before. I told Mr.
Corbeck that I had read the chapter about the finding of the tomb, and
that I thought Doctor Winchester should read it, too. The latter said
that, if he might, he would take it with him; he had that morning to
make a railway journey to Ipswich, and would read it on the train. He
said he would bring it back with him when he came again in the evening. I went up to my room to bring it down; but I could not find it
anywhere. I had a distinct recollection of having left it on the little
table beside my bed, when I had come up after Miss Trelawny’s going on
duty into the sick-room. It was very strange; for the book was not of
a kind that any of the servants would be likely to take. I had to come
back and explain to the others that I could not find it. When Doctor Winchester had gone, Mr. Corbeck, who seemed to know the
Dutchman’s work by heart, talked the whole matter over with me. I told
him that I was interrupted by a change of nurses, just as I had come to
the description of the ring. He smiled as he said:

“So far as that is concerned, you need not be disappointed. Not in Van
Huyn’s time, nor for nearly two centuries later, could the meaning of
that engraving have been understood. It was only when the work was
taken up and followed by Young and Champollion, by Birch and Lepsius
and Rosellini and Salvolini, by Mariette Bey and by Wallis Budge and
Flinders Petrie and the other scholars of their times that great
results ensued, and that the true meaning of hieroglyphic was known. “Later, I shall explain to you, if Mr. Trelawny does not explain it
himself, or if he does not forbid me to, what it means in that
particular place. I think it will be better for you to know what
followed Van Huyn’s narrative; for with the description of the stone,
and the account of his bringing it to Holland at the termination of his
travels, the episode ends. Ends so far as his book is concerned. The
chief thing about the book is that it sets others thinking—and acting. Amongst them were Mr. Trelawny and myself. Mr. Trelawny is a good
linguist of the Orient, but he does not know Northern tongues. As for
me I have a faculty for learning languages; and when I was pursuing my
studies in Leyden I learned Dutch so that I might more easily make
references in the library there. Thus it was, that at the very time
when Mr. Trelawny, who, in making his great collection of works on
Egypt, had, through a booksellers’ catalogue, acquired this volume with
the manuscript translation, was studying it, I was reading another
copy, in original Dutch, in Leyden. We were both struck by the
description of the lonely tomb in the rock; cut so high up as to be
inaccessible to ordinary seekers:  with all means of reaching it
carefully obliterated; and yet with such an elaborate ornamentation of
the smoothed surface of the cliff as Van Huyn has described. It also
struck us both as an odd thing—for in the years between Van Huyn’s
time and our own the general knowledge of Egyptian curios and records
has increased marvellously—that in the case of such a tomb, made in
such a place, and which must have cost an immense sum of money, there
was no seeming record or effigy to point out who lay within. Moreover,
the very name of the place, ‘the Valley of the Sorcerer’, had, in a
prosaic age, attractions of its own. When we met, which we did through
his seeking the assistance of other Egyptologists in his work, we
talked over this as we did over many other things; and we determined to
make search for the mysterious valley. Whilst we were waiting to start
on the travel, for many things were required which Mr. Trelawny
undertook to see to himself, I went to Holland to try if I could by any
traces verify Van Huyn’s narrative. I went straight to Hoorn, and set
patiently to work to find the house of the traveller and his
descendants, if any. I need not trouble you with details of my
seeking—and finding. Hoorn is a place that has not changed much since
Van Huyn’s time, except that it has lost the place which it held
amongst commercial cities. Its externals are such as they had been
then; in such a sleepy old place a century or two does not count for
much. I found the house, and discovered that none of the descendants
were alive. I searched records; but only to one end—death and
extinction. Then I set me to work to find what had become of his
treasures; for that such a traveller must have had great treasures was
apparent. I traced a good many to museums in Leyden, Utrecht, and
Amsterdam; and some few to the private houses of rich collectors. At
last, in the shop of an old watchmaker and jeweller at Hoorn, I found
what he considered his chiefest treasure; a great ruby, carven like a
scarab, with seven stars, and engraven with hieroglyphics. The old man
did not know hieroglyphic character, and in his old-world, sleepy life,
the philological discoveries of recent years had not reached him. He
did not know anything of Van Huyn, except that such a person had been,
and that his name was, during two centuries, venerated in the town as a
great traveller. He valued the jewel as only a rare stone, spoiled in
part by the cutting; and though he was at first loth to part with such
an unique gem, he became amenable ultimately to commercial reason. I
had a full purse, since I bought for Mr. Trelawny, who is, as I suppose
you know, immensely wealthy. I was shortly on my way back to London,
with the Star Ruby safe in my pocket-book; and in my heart a joy and
exultation which knew no bounds. “For here we were with proof of Van Huyn’s wonderful story. The jewel
was put in security in Mr. Trelawny’s great safe; and we started out on
our journey of exploration in full hope. “Mr. Trelawny was, at the last, loth to leave his young wife whom he
dearly loved; but she, who loved him equally, knew his longing to
prosecute the search. So keeping to herself, as all good women do, all
her anxieties—which in her case were special—she bade him follow out
his bent.”




Chapter XI

A Queen’s Tomb


“Mr. Trelawny’s hope was at least as great as my own.