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Wandering one day among the Egyptian sculptures in the British Museum, Smith falls in love with the plaster cast of an unknown woman's head, which seems to him to return his gaze with a mysterious smile. As a result, he becomes an ardent Egyptologist, and spends his holidays in excavation work in Egypt. On his third visit he finds in a tomb the head of a statuette, whose smiling features he immediately recognizes as those of the cast in the Museum, and whose name he discovers from the hieroglyphics is Queen Ma-Mee. Realizing that he is in her desecrated tomb, he renews his search, and also finds a mummied hand bearing two gold rings.

MITH was seated in the be tempted to believe that you had misread it.

sanctum of the distinguished Ma-Mee! Ma-Mee! That would be pretty

in French, would it not? Ma mie—my

Director-General of Antiqui- ties at the new Cairo Museum. It was a very interesting room. Books piled upon the floor ; objects from tombs awaiting examination, lying here and there ; a hoard of Ptolemaic silver coins, just dug up at Alex- andria, standing on a table in the pot that had hidden them for two thousand years ; in the corner the mummy of a royal child not long ago discovered, with some inscription scrawled upon the wrappings (brought here to be deciphered by the Master), and the withered lotus-bloom, love’s last offering, thrust beneath one of the pink retaining bands.

“A touching object,” thought Smith to himself. ‘‘ Really, they might have left the poor little dear in peace.”

Smith had a tender heart, but even as he reflected he became aware that some of the jewellery hidden in an inner pocket of his waistcoat (designed for bank-notes) was fret- ting his skin. He had a tender conscience also.

Just then the Director bustled in, alert, vigorous, full of interest.

“ Ah, my dear Mr. Smith!” he said, in his excellent English. “I am indeed glad to see you back again, especially as I understand that you are come rejoicing and bringing your sheaves with you. They tell me you have been extraordinarily successful. What do you say is the name of this queen whose tomb you have found—Ma-Mee? A very unusual name. How do you get the extra vowel? Is it for euphony—eh? Did I not know how good a scholar you are, I should

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darling! Well, I dare say she was somebody’s mie inher time. But tell me the story.”

Smith told him shortly and clearly ; also he produced his photographs and copies of inscriptions.

“This is interesting—interesting truly,” said the Director, when he had glanced through them. ‘“ You must leave them with me to study. Also you will publish them, is it not so? Perhaps one of the Societies would help you with the cost, for it should be done in facsimile. Look at this vignette ! Most unusual. Oh, what a pity that scoun- drelly priest got off with the jewellery and burnt her Majesty’s body !”

“ He didn’t get off with all of it.”

“What, Mr. Smith? Our inspector re- ported to me that you found nothing.”

“TJ dare say, sir; but your inspector did not know what I found.”

“Ah, you are discreet! Well, let us see.”

Slowly Smith unbuttoned his waistcoat. From its inner pocket and elsewhere about his person he extracted the jewels wrapped in mummy-cloth as he had found them. First he produced a sceptre-head of gold, in the shape of a pomegranate fruit and engraved with the throne name and titles of Ma-Mee.

“What a beautiful object!” said the Director. ‘ Look! the handle was of ivory, and that sacré thief of a priest smashed it out at the socket. It was fresh ivory then ; the robbery must have taken place not long after the burial. See, this magnifying-glass shows it. Is that all?”

Copyright, ror2, by H. Rider Haggard.