It is well known what happened. That was not the discovery of the century.
Tybalt's expedition found the tomb a few days before the Pasha's men working from a different part of the hillside reached the burial chamber.
What treasures there would have been! It was clearly the burial place of a great King.
The Pasha had been working towards it for some time; he knew that there was a way in through the chambers in which I had spent those terrifying hours; that was why when Sir Edward discovered it he had died. He knew too that the alcove in which Yasmin had been discovered was a way in to the corridor and it may have been that he thought she had discovered something. Her death was a warning to any of his workpeople who might have thought of exploring the subterranean passages.
Alas, for Tybalt's great ambition. There was the sarcophagus, the mummy of the Pharaoh but robbers—perhaps the Pasha's ancestors—had rifled the tomb two thousand years before; and all that was left was a soul house in stone which they had not thought worth taking.
We heard that the Pasha had left for Alexandria. He did not come to bid us farewell. He would know through his servants that we had unraveled the mystery of Sir Edward's death and that of Theodosia.
We came back to England.
There was great rejoicing at Rainbow Cottage. I had asked that the aunts should not be told of my adventures because as I said to Tybalt, we shall go off to other places together and they would fret all the time and say "I told you so"—which is what I could not endure.
A few days after we had arrived home there was a paragraph in the press about an Englishman, a successful dealer in antiquities—mainly Egyptian—who had been found drowned in the Nile. His name was Leopold Harding. Whether his death was due to foul play was not certain. Head injuries had been discovered but these could have been caused by his striking his head against the boat when it was overturned. As a dealer in rare objects his clients had been mainly private collectors.
It was clear that he had been one of the Pasha's servants, just as those who had tampered with the bridge, the soothsayer, and Mustapha and Absalam had been. Harding disposed of priceless objects which the Pasha may have taken from tombs in the past, for naturally it would take him years to dispose of articles of this nature. Many would have to be broken up and if there were jewels decorating them, these would have to be sold separately, and these transactions would be carried out under the cover of legitimate business.
The Pasha had clearly been hoping to make the discovery of a lifetime. Sir Edward had found the same trail, so he had died through Mustapha and Absalam. Then Tybalt had arrived to take up where his father had left off and Theodosia had died as a warning. As we remained, Leopold Harding had been ordered to kill me. He had failed. The Pasha did not like failures; moreover he was no doubt afraid that Harding, over whom he would have less control than he had over his Egyptian servants, might betray the fact that he had been commanded to kill me. So Leopold Harding had been murdered as Yasmin had.
The adventure was behind me. Leopold Harding had attempted to take my life and had instead taken away my fears. Because of what he had done to me I had greater understanding than I had ever had before.
And Tybalt too. He will never of course be the man to show his feelings; and when perhaps he is most moved he is most reticent.
But for Leopold Harding and the Egyptian expedition, I might have gone on for years doubting Tybalt's love for me for he could never have expressed in words what he did when he came to get me and when he was ready to give up his life's ambition when he believed it—erroneously it turned out—to be within his reach.
"My poor Tybalt," I said, "I did want you to make the great discovery."
"I made a greater one."
"I know. Before you thought you wanted more than anything in the world to find the greatest treasure ever known to the world."
"But I did that," he said. "I discovered what you meant to me."
So how could I but be grateful to all that had gone before? And how could I not rejoice when I looked forward to the richness of the life we would lead together?