Great is still known to all the world; and so is the name of your last Queen."
  
  Suddenly there was a noise behind him. Henry:
  
  "Speaking to Ramses the Great in Latin, Uncle? Maybe the curse is already working on 
your brain."
  
  "Oh, he understands Latin,"  Lawrence answered, still staring at the mummy." Don't you, 
Ramses? And Greek also. And Persian and Etruscan, and tongues the world has forgotten. 
Who knows? Perhaps you knew the tongues of the ancient northern barbarians which became 
our own English centuries ago."  Once again, he lapsed into Latin." But oh, there are so 
many wonders in the world now, great Pharaoh. There are so many things I could show you. 
..."
  
  "I don't think he can hear you, Uncle,"  Henry said coldly. There was a soft chink of 
glass touching glass." Let's hope not, in any case."
  
  Lawrence turned around sharply. Henry, a briefcase tucked under his left arm, held the 
lid of one of the jars in his right hand.
  
  "Don't touch that!"  Lawrence said crossly." It's poison, you imbecile. They're all 
full of poisons. One pinch and you'll be as dead as he is. That is, if he's truly dead."  
Even the sight of his nephew made him angry. And at a time such as this...
  
  Lawrence turned back to the mummy. Why, even the hands seemed fuller. And one of the 
rings had almost broken through the wrapping. Only hours ago...
  
  "Poisons?"  Henry asked behind him.
  
  "It's a veritable laboratory of poisons,"  Lawrence answered." The very poisons 
Cleopatra tried, before her suicide, upon her helpless slaves!"  But why waste this 
precious information on Henry?
  
  "How incredibly quaint,"  his nephew answered. Cynical, sarcastic." I thought she was 
bitten by an asp."
  
  "You're an idiot, Henry. You know less history than an Egyptian camel driver. Cleopatra 
tried a hundred poisons before she settled on the snake."
  
  He turned and watched coldly as his nephew touched the marble bust of Cleopatra, his 
fingers passing roughly over the nose, the eyes.
  
  "Well, I fancy this is worth a small fortune, anyway. And these coins. You aren't going 
to give these things to the British Museum, are you?"
  
  Lawrence sat down in the camp chair. He dipped the pen. Where had he stopped in his 
translation? Impossible to concentrate with these distractions.
  
  "Is money all you think about?"  he asked coldly." And what have you ever done with it 
but gamble it away?"  He looked up at his nephew. When had the youthful fire died in that 
handsome face? When had arrogance hardened it, and aged it; and made it so deadly dull?" 
The more I give you, the more you lose at the tables. Go back to London, for the love of 
heaven. Go back to your mistress and your music hall cronies. But get out."
  
  There was a sharp noise from outside-another motor car backfiring as it ground its way 
up the sandy road. A dark-faced servant in soiled clothes entered suddenly, with a full 
breakfast tray in his hands. Samir came behind him.
  
  "I cannot hold them back much longer, Lawrence,"  Samir said. With a small graceful 
gesture, he bid the servant set down the breakfast on the edge of the portable desk." The 
men from the British embassy are here also, Lawrence. So is every reporter from 
Alexandria to Cairo. It is quite a circus out there, I fear."
  
  Lawrence stared at the silver dishes, the china cups. He wanted nothing now but to be 
alone with his treasures.
  
  "Oh, just keep them out as long as you can, Samir. Give me a few more hours alone with 
these scrolls. Samir, the story is so sad, so poignant."
  
  "I'll do my best,"  Samir answered." But do take breakfast, Lawrence. You're exhausted. 
You need nourishment and rest."
  
  "Samir, I've never been better. Keep them out of here till noon. Oh, and take Henry 
with you. Henry, go with Samir. He'll see that you have something to eat."
  
  "Yes, do come with me, sir, please,"  Samir said quickly.
  
  "I have to speak to my uncle alone."
  
  Lawrence looked back at his notebook. And the scroll opened above it. Yes, the King had 
been talking of his grief after, that he had retreated here to a secret study far away 
from Cleopatra's mausoleum in Alexandria, far away from the Valley of the Kings.
  
  "Uncle,"  Henry said frostily," I'd be more than happy to go back to London if you 
would only take a moment to sign ..."
  
  Lawrence refused to look up from the papyrus. Maybe there would be some clue as to 
where Cleopatra's mausoleum had once stood.
  
  " How many times must I say it?"  he murmured indifferently." No. I will sign no 
papers. Now take your briefcase with you and get out of my sight."
  
  "Uncle, the Earl wants an answer regarding Julie and Alex. He won't wait forever. And 
as for these papers, it's only a matter of a few shares."
  
  The Earl ... Alex and Julie. It was monstrous." Good God, at a time like this!"
  
  "Uncle, the world hasn't stopped turning on account of your discovery."  Such acid in 
the tone." And the stock has to be liquidated."