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Peter’s ears flickered worriedly. The white kitten was up on top of the tower, winding herself round the ankles of a tall man in a suit who was pointing out the big hole in the ceiling to the builders. He seemed to be telling them just how serious the damage was, and they were nodding and frowning. Eventually, the tall man noticed Bianca. He stared down at her in horror, as though he’d never seen such a creature before.

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It was most unusual. Bianca was very good at making people love her. The Old Manalways tickled her under the chin. Even though it was his job to look after the museum cats, he could be quite grumpy and sometimes the cats thought he didn’t like them very much. But Bianca always made him smile when she purred – which he certainly never did for any of the others.

“Who’s that?” Peter whispered to Boris.

“The Museum Director. He’s very serious. And very important.”

The Museum Director glared at Bianca and sniffed. Then he sneezed, loudly. Another cloud of dust shimmered down from the ceiling and the people on top of the tower gave the hole worried looks. The Director muttered something and then picked Bianca up at arms’ length – as though she smelled bad! He marched over to the ladder and handed her down to one of the museum staff.

“They’re throwing her out!” Boris whispered to Peter, laying his ears flat and edging back under a dust sheet.

Peter squished in next to him.“I don’t believe it…”

Bianca didn’t believe it either. The museum worker hurried out with her and dumped her in the middle of the Roman Room. The white kitten stood there for a moment, her tail fluffed up like a brush. No one treated her like that! Not ever!

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“She’s furious,” Peter breathed. He could see Tasha watching from behind a huge granite lion. She looked just as shocked as they were.

“We’d better not let her know we saw,” Boris muttered. “She’d never forgive us.”

They squished right back against the wall and watched as Bianca stalked proudly out of the room, the fury crackling off her fur.

“Now that really is bad luck!” Boris said, shuddering. “We’d better find someone to tell her how beautiful she is. And fast.”

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“That’s interesting,” hissed a watching rat, his whiskers peeking round the side of a display case. “Very interesting indeed. That tall one’s important. And he doesn’t like those little cats, no, he doesn’t. And if there’s no cats in the gallery…”

“Out we come!” squeaked the smaller rat from the other side of the case.

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Even after the builders had got rid of Bianca, the other kittens kept sneaking back to check up on the work in the Egyptian Gallery that day. It was fascinating– even more fascinating because they weren’t really supposed to be there.

They had to stay out of the way of all the staff and especially the Museum Director, who was marching about shouting at people. They kept on having to dodge Smoke and Grandpa Ivan and the other cats too– no one seemed to want a bunch of kittens getting in the way. But Boris kept finding new power tools to drool over, and Tasha and Peter wanted to keep an eye on all the treasures up there with the dust and dirt and piles of plaster.

And to keep an eye on the rats.

Boris had been telling the others for ages about the huge rats he’d seen in the tunnels and behind statues, and how he’d nearly almost caught them. But now that the ceiling was down and the walls were full of cracks, there seemed to be scuttling noises and ratty whisperseverywhere. The kittens were on edge all day. Peter felt as if he had to keep looking over his shoulder– and he was never quite sure if he was expecting a huge rat or an angry ancient Egyptian…

“You know, I don’t think the builders actually like working in the museum,” Tasha told the others at breakfast the next morning. Once again they had only been given cat biscuits and Boris was eating them with a pained look.

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“What do you mean?” Peter asked indignantly. Even though he was still quite new to being a museum cat, he felt very protective of his home.

“I heard one of them say that the Egyptian Gallery was spooky!” Tasha shook her head sadly.

The other three kittens stared at her.

“There’s a haunted papyrus in there, Tasha!” Boris pointed out, licking crumbs off his whiskers. “Of course it’s spooky! Look at everything that’s gone wrong since it turned up. Plus the gallery’s full of enormous stone coffins!”

“That papyrus is not haunted!” Tasha adored living in the museum and finding out about all the exhibits – but even she was starting to feel doubtful about theBook of the Dead. She shuffled her paws.“And the coffins and mummies are so beautiful…” she added, looking round at them all. “You really think they’re spooky? I mean, I suppose the cat mummies are…”

“Uuuughhhh…” Bianca shuddered. “Don’t talk about them. They make my whiskers twitch.”

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“And those jars!” Boris looked gloomily around the cellar. The museum’s collection of ancient canopic jars was lined up along one wall now. “It’s putting me off my breakfast, knowing that all those brains are over there.”

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“Not brains, Boris!” Tasha said, sounding shocked. “Only the stomachs, livers, lungs and intestines went in the jars. The ancient Egyptians drained the brains out of people’s noses and threw them away.”

“You’re not helping!” Boris stopped eating and sat back, gazing at his bowl sadly.

Tasha licked her nose, then stepped away from her bowl too.“Yes. I’m not very hungry now either. But we shouldn’t be scared of them, you know. The bodies and – er – bits – they’re all thousands of years old.”

“Really old, powerful spooks then!” Bianca shivered. “I’m not surprised the builders don’t like being here. What if it’s not just the curse on that papyrus? I expect the mummies are really fed up with being disturbed too. I bet they’re furious!”

All four kittens looked sideways at the canopic jars and the painted mummy case that was now standing in the corner of the cellar. Without realizing what they were doing, they edged a little closer so they could feel the warmth of each other’s fur.

“The ancient Egyptians really liked cats!” Tasha said firmly, but she was still pressed close against Peter. “They worshipped them! We’re being silly.”

Peter nodded.“Even if ghosts did start popping out of all those mummy cases, they’dlove us.”

“I think it’s our duty to go and keep an eye on the builders,” Boris said firmly. He glanced quickly at the jars again. “And I’d rather be up there than down here…”

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The builders were hot and grumpy and fed up. The hole in the ceiling was something to do with leaking water pipes making the plaster go all soggy. Every single one of the pipes had to be carefully checked to make sure they weren’t rusting and it looked like a long, fiddly job. Plus, every time the builders turned round, there was someone from the museum panicking about them damaging the priceless treasures.

“This job’s getting on my nerves,” one of them muttered as they perched on the edge of a packing case to drink a cup of tea.

“Mr High and Mighty the Museum Director made very sure to tell us that there absolutely definitely wasn’t anything weird going on, didn’t he?” his mate replied, glancing over his shoulder at the heavy glass case with the papyrus inside. It was just too solid to move out of the gallery. “The sooner we get out of here the better.”

“Let’s keep out of their way,” Tasha said, as the four kittens peered out from under one of the dust sheets.

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“Hmf.” Bianca stuck her nose out and glared. “Horrible people!” She was still upset about being thrown out of the gallery the day before but she’d finally come upstairs with the others because she hadn’t wanted to be left alone in the cellars. The carved faces on top of the canopic jarsseemed to keep looking at her. All the cats down there were asleep after their night shift guarding against the rats, and their cellar home felt strangely quiet and empty.