Виктория Холт - Curse of the Kings

"This custom, of course," Evan explained to us, "has led to many of the tombs being robbed. Throughout the centuries daring men have plundered them . . . daring indeed for it is said that the Curse of the Pharaohs descends on those who disturb their eternal rest."

I was very interested to hear how it was possible to keep a person's body for centuries. "The embalming process," Evan explained, "is one which was perfected three thousand years before the birth of Christ. It was a secret and no one has ever really discovered how the ancient Egyptians did it so expertly."

It was absorbing. There were books with pictures. I was never tired of talking of this fascinating subject; I wanted to ignore other lessons for the sake of going on with Evan.

Sabina said she had seen a mummy. They had had one at Giza once.

Evan talked to her about it and I was a little envious that Sabina who had not taken particular note of it should have had the opportunity which I should have made such use of.

"It was in a sort of coffin," said Sabina.

"A sarcophagus," supplied Evan.

"We've still got it, I believe," said Sabina. "But the mummy has gone." She shuddered. "I'm glad. I didn't like it. It was horrible."

"It was interesting," I cried. "Just imagine. It was somebody who had actually lived thousands of years ago!"

I couldn't get the thought of it out of my mind and a few days later when we went for our music lesson I decided that I was going to see it. Theodosia was at the piano. She was better than the rest of us and Tabby gave us extra tuition.

I said: "Now is the time." And Sabina led us to that strange room. This was the one, of course, which I had heard about, the room which gave the servants "the creeps" and which they wouldn't enter alone.

I saw the sarcophagus at once. It stood in a corner of the room; it was like a stone trough. Along the top of it were rows of hieroglyphs.

I knelt down and examined them.

"My father is trying to decipher them," explained Sabina. "That's why it's here. Later it will go to some museum."

I touched it wonderingly. "Just imagine . . . thousands of years ago people made these signs and someone was embalmed and laid inside there. Don't you think that's wonderful? Oh, how I wish they'd left the mummy!"

"You can see them in the British Museum. It's just like someone done up with a lot of bandages."

I stood up and looked about the room. The walls of one side were lined with books. I looked at their bindings. Many were in languages I could not understand.

I said: "There's a strange feeling in this room. Are you aware of it?"

"No," said Sabina. "You're trying to frighten us."

"It's because it's dark," said Hadrian. "It's the tree outside the window."

"Listen," I said.

"It's the wind," said Sabina scornfully. "And come on. We mustn't be found in here."

She was relieved when she shut the door behind us. But I couldn't forget that room.

For the next few days I looked up everything I could find about ancient burials. The others were impatient with me because when I had an idea I was obsessed by it and would talk of nothing else. Sabina was very impatient and

Theodosia had begun to agree with everything Sabina said.

She declared she was tired of all this talk about mummies. They were nothing but dead people anyway. She had heard that if they were exposed to the air and the wrappings removed they all crumpled to dust. Why get excited about a lot of dust?

"But they were real people once. Let's go and look at the sarcophagus again."

"No," wailed Sabina. "And this is my house, so if you go without me you're trespassing."

"I believe you're afraid of that room," I declared.

She indignantly denied this.

I became more and more obsessed and wanted to know exactly what it felt like to be embalmed and laid to rest in a sarcophagus. I forced Hadrian to join me and together we found some old sheets and one of these we cut into strips, and when we all went to Giza House for our music lesson Hadrian and I contrived to have ours first and then we went into the garden where we had hidden our sheets and bandages in an old summerhouse. We retrieved them and together we went into the room in which was the sarcophagus. I put the sheet over my head—having cut holes in it for my eyes—and made Hadrian bind me up with the bandages. I scrambled into the sarcophagus and lay there.

My only excuse is that I was young and thoughtless. It just seemed a tremendous joke—and an exciting one too. I thought I was very brave and bold to lie in that sarcophagus alone in the room for I had twinges of doubt and felt that my boldness might arouse at any moment the wrath of the gods.

It seemed a long time before the door opened. Sabina said: "Oh, why do you want to keep looking at it . . ." And I knew Hadrian had brought them in as we had arranged.

Then they saw me. There was a bloodcurdling scream. I tried to scramble out of the trough-like receptacle which smelled peculiar and was so cold. It was the worst thing that I could have done for Theodosia, seeing this thing rising from the dead, as she believed, began to scream.

I heard Hadrian shout: "It's only Judith."

I saw Sabina was as white as the sheet which was wrapped round me; and then Theodosia slid to the floor in a faint.

"It's all right, Theodosia," I cried. "It's Judith. It's not a real mummy."

"I believe she's dead," said Sabina. "You've killed her."

"Theodosia!" I wailed. "You're not dead. People can't die like that."

Then I saw the stranger standing in the doorway. He was tall, and so different from anyone I had ever seen before that for the moment I thought he was one of the gods come for vengeance. He looked angry enough.

He stared at me. What a sight I must have looked—my bandages hanging about me, the sheet still over my head.

From me he looked to Theodosia. "Good God," he said and picked her up.

"Judith dressed up as a mummy," squealed Sabina. "It's frightened Theodosia."

"How utterly stupid!" he said, giving me such a look of contempt that I was glad of the sheet to cover my shame.

"Is she dead, Tybalt?" went on Sabina.

He did not answer; he walked out of the room with Theodosia in his arms.

I scrambled out of the bandages and sheet and rolled them into a bundle.

Sabina came running back into the room.

"They're all fussing round Theodosia," she informed us, and added rather gleefully: "They're all angry with you two."

"It was my idea," I said, "wasn't it, Hadrian?"

Hadrian agreed that it was.

"It's nothing to be proud of," said Sabina severely. "You might have killed her."

"She's all right?" I said anxiously.

"She's sitting up now, but she looks pale and she's gasping."

"She was only a bit frightened," I said.

"People can die of fright."

"Well, she isn't going to."

Tybalt came into the room. He still looked angry.

"What on earth did you think you two were doing?"

I looked at Hadrian who waited as usual for me to speak. "I was only being a mummy," I said.

"Aren't you a little old for such tricks?"

I felt small and bitterly humiliated.

"You didn't think, I suppose, of the effect this might have on those who were not in the joke?"

"No," I said, "I didn't think."

"It's quite a good habit. I should try it sometime."

If anyone else had said that to me I should have been ready with a pert answer. But he was different . . . right from the beginning I knew it.

He had turned to Hadrian. "And what have you to say?"

"Only the same as Judith. We didn't mean to hurt her."

"You've behaved very stupidly," he said; and turned and left us.

"So that's the great Tybalt!" said Hadrian waiting until he was out of earshot.