Виктория Холт - Curse of the Kings

Then Sir Edward Travers and his family came to the old Dower House. The Traverses were already friends of the Bodreans; they had visited Keverall Court many times and Sir Edward was behind the plans for Carter's Meadow. My find had increased that interest and was probably the reason why, since he was looking for a country house, Sir Edward decided on the Dower House.

Sir Edward was connected with Oxford University in some way but was constantly engaged on expeditions. His name was often in the papers and he was very well known in academic circles, but Sir Edward needed a country residence where he could be quiet to compile his finds and set it all out in book form after he returned from one of his trips, usually in far-off places.

There was a great deal of excitement when we heard they were coming. Hadrian told me that his uncle was delighted and that now nothing could stop them digging up Carter's Meadow—parson or no parson.

I was sure he was right for the poor Reverend James was not the man to go into battle. His objections were entirely due to the prodding of his more forceful parishioners. All he wanted was to be able to lead a quiet life and the chief duty of Dorcas and Alison was to keep from him anything that might disturb him. I believe he was delighted by the coming of Sir Edward, for even the most militant of his flock would not dare raise issue with such an important gentleman.

So the Traverses arrived and the Dower House became Giza House.

"Named after the Pyramids, I believe," said Dorcas, and we confirmed this by looking it up in the encyclopedia.

The dark old Dower House with the overgrown garden which had stood empty for so long was now inhabited. I could no longer so easily scare Theodosia with stories that it was haunted and dare her and Hadrian to run up the path and look through the windows. It lost none of its strangeness though. "Once a house is haunted," I told the nervous Theodosia, "it's haunted forever."

And sure enough it was not long before we began to hear strange rumors of the house which was full of treasures from all over the world. Some of them were very odd indeed, so that the servants didn't feel at home with them; and because of these strange things the place was "creepy." If it had not been for the fact that Sir Edward was such an important man whose name was often in the papers, they would not have stayed there.

So there was digging in Carter's Meadow and important tenants at Giza House. We learned that although Sir Edward was a widower he had two children—a son, Tybalt, who was grown up and at the university—and a daughter, Sabina, who was about the same age as Theodosia and myself and was therefore to share our lessons.

It was some time before I saw Tybalt but I decided to dislike him before I set eyes on him, largely because Sabina spoke of him with awe and reverence. She did not so much love as adore him. He was omniscient and omnipotent according to her. He was handsome, in fact godlike.

"I don't believe anyone is as good as that," I said scornfully, glaring at Hadrian, forcing him to agree with me. Theodosia could think what she liked; her opinion was unimportant.

Hadrian looked from me to Sabina and came down on my side. "No," he declared, "nobody is."

"Nobody but Tybalt," insisted Sabina.

Sabina talked constantly and never minded whether anyone was listening or not. I told Hadrian this was because she lived in that strange house with her absent-minded father and those servants, two of whom were very strange indeed, for they were Egyptians named Mustapha and Absalam and wore long white robes and sandals. I had heard from our rectory cook that they gave the other servants the "creeps" and with all the peculiar things that were in that house and those two gliding about so that you never knew whether they were spying on you and you not seeing them —it was a queer household.

Sabina was pretty; she had fair curls, and big grey eyes with long golden lashes and a little heart-shaped face. Theodosia, who was quite plain, very soon adored her. I quickly saw that their friendship strengthened the alliance between Hadrian and myself. Sometimes I used to think it had been better before the Traverses came because then the three of us made a pleasant little trio. I admit that I bullied them a little. Dorcas was always telling me that I must stop trying to organize everyone and believing that what I wanted for them was the best from every point of view. It was a fact that although Hadrian and Theodosia were the children of the big house and I came from the impecunious rectory and had been allowed to have lessons in their schoolroom as a favor, I did behave rather as though I were the daughter of Keverall Court and the others were the outsiders. I had explained to Dorcas that it was just because Hadrian could never make up his mind and Theodosia was too silly to have any ideas about anything.

Then there was Sabina, good-natured, her lovely hair always falling into place in a manner most becoming, while my thick straight dark locks were always escaping in disorder from anything with which I tried to bind them. Her grey eyes would sparkle with gaiety when she spoke of frivolous things or shine with fervor when she talked of Tybalt. She was a charming girl, whose presence had changed the entire atmosphere of our schoolroom.

Through her we learned of life in Giza House. How her father was shut in his room for days and silent-footed Mustapha or Absalam took his meals to him on trays. Sabina had luncheon in a small dining room just off the schoolroom at Keverall as I did each day except Saturdays and Sundays, but in Giza House when her father was working she often had meals alone or with her companion-housekeeper, Tabitha Grey, who gave her lessons at the piano. She always referred to her as Tabby and I christened her the Grey Tabby which amused them all. I pictured her as a middle-aged woman, with greying dusty-looking hair, grey skirts, and dull muddy-colored blouses. I was very surprised eventually to meet a striking-looking youngish woman.

I told Sabina that she was no good at describing anything. She had made Grey Tabby sound like a dowdy old woman and I was sure that that wonder hero Tybalt would turn out to be a pale-faced youth with eyes ruined by looking at too much crabbed writing on ancient manuscripts—which he must have done, mustn't he, since he was so clever—round-shouldered and knowing absolutely nothing about anything but long dead people and what weapons they had used in battle.

"One day you may be able to see for yourself," said Sabina laughing.

We could hardly wait. She had so played on our imaginations—particularly mine which Alison had once said worked overtime—that this miraculous brother of hers was never far from my thoughts. I was longing to see him. I had so built up this picture of the stooping bespectacled scholar that I believed it to be true and had forced Hadrian to do the same. Theodosia took Sabina's version. "After all," she said, "Sabina's seen him. You haven't."

"People get bemused," I said. "She sees him through rose-colored spectacles."

We could hardly wait when the time came for him to come down from Oxford. Sabina was exalted. "Now you will see for yourselves." One morning she came in in tears because Tybalt was not coming, after all. He was going up to Northumberland on a dig and he would no doubt spend the entire vacation up there. Sir Edward was going to join him.

Instead of Tybalt we had Evan Callum, who was a friend of Tybalt. Wishing to earn a little money, he was going to spend the period before he went back to the university grounding us in the rudiments of archaeology, a subject in which he was quite proficient.

I forgot my disappointment about Tybalt and threw myself with fervor into my new studies. I was much more interested in the subject than the others. Sometimes in the afternoons I would go down to Carter's Meadow with Evan Callum and he would show me something of the practical work which had to be done.