terrible drop into the Nile that lay half a mile downstream.
Sitting on the bank, he tore a strip from the tail of his shirt. Then he
bound up his wounded chin as best he could, strapping it around the back
of his head. The blood soaked through the thin wet cotton, but he
knotted it tighter and it began to staunch the flow.
He stood up unsteadily and pushed his way through the strip of thick
river in bush which bounded the river, until at last he struck the trail
that led down to the monastery and hobbled down it on his bare feet. He
only stopped once, and that was when he heard the sound of the
helicopter taking off from the top of the cliff above the chasm far
behind him.
He looked back. "Sounds as though Tuma Nogo made it out of there, more's
the pity. I wonder what happened to von Schiller and the Egyptian," he
muttered grimly, fingering his injured face. "At least none of them are
going to get into the tomb, not unless they dam the river again."
Suddenly a thought occurred to him.
"My God, what if von Schiller was already in there when the river hit!"
He began to chuckle, and then shook his head. "Too much to hope for.
justice is never that neat." He shook his head again, but the movement
started his wound aching brutally. He clutched his bandaged jaw with one
hand and started down the trail again, breaking into a trot as he
reached the paved causeway that led down to the monastery.
ahoot Guddabi ran full into von Schiller around a corner of the maze,
and in a peculiar way the old man's presence, even thoug he was of no
conceivable value in this crisis, steadied him and kept at bay the panic
that threatened at any moment to boil over and overwhelm him. Without
Hansith the maze was a weird and lonely place. Any human company was a
blessing. For a moment the two of them clung together like children lost
in the forest.
Von Schiller still carried part of the treasure that they had been
examining when Hansith had panicked and run.
He had Pharaoh's golden crook in one hand and the ceremonial flail in
the other.
"Where is the monk?" he screamed at Guddabi. "Why did you run off and
leave me? We have to find the way out of these tunnels, you idiot. Don't
you realize the danger?"
"How do you expect me to know the way-' Nahoot began furiously, and then
broke off as he noticed the chalk notations on the wall behind von
Schiller's shoulder, and for the first time realized their significance.
"That's it!' he exclaimed with relief. "Harper or the Al Simma woman
have marked it out for us. Come on!" He started down the tunnel,
following the signposting. However, by the time they came out on the
central staircase almost an hour had passed since Hansith had left them.
As they hurried down the staircase into the long gallery the sound of
the river rose to a pervading hiss, like the breathing of a sleeping
dragon, Nahoot broke into a run and von Schiller staggered along behind
him, his aged legs weakening with fear.
"Wait!" he shouted after Nahoot, who ignored his plea and ducked out
through the opening in the plaster-sealed doorway. On the landing the
generator was still running smoothly, and Nahoot did not even glance at
it as he hurried down the inclined shaft in the bright dazzle of the
light bulbs along the roof.
He turned the corner still at a run, and stopped dead 41, as he realized
that the tunnel below him was flooded, right back up to the level of the
ancient high-water mark on the masonry blocks of the walls. There was no
sign of the sinkhole or the pontoon bridge. They were submerged under
fifty feet or more of water.
The Dandera river, guardian of the tomb down all the ages, had resumed
its duty. Dark and implacable, it sealed the entrance to the tomb as it
had done these four thousand years past.
"Allah!" whispered ahoot. "Allah have mercy on us." Von Schiller came
around the corner of the tunnel and stopped beside Nahoot. The two of
them stared in horror at the flooded shaft. Then slowly von Schiller
sagged against the side wall.
"We are trapped," he whispered, and at those words Nahoot whimpered
softly and sank to his knees. He began to pray in a high, nasal
sing-song. The sound infuriated on Schiller.
"That will not help us. Stop it!" He swung the golden flail in his right
hand across Nahoot's bowed back. Nahoot cried out at the pain and
crawled away from von Schiller.
"We must find a way out of here." Von Schiller's voice steadied. He was
accustomed to command, and now he took charge.
"There must be another way out of here," he decided.
(We will search. If there is an opening to the outside then we should
feel a draught of air." His voice became firmer and more confident.
"Yes! That's what we will do. Switch off that fan, and we will try to
detect any movement of air."
Nahoot responded eagerly to his tone and authority, and hurried back to
switch off the electric fan.
"You have your cigarette lighter," von Schiller told him. "We will light
tapers from these." He pointed at the papers and photographs that Royan
had left lying on the trestle table by the doorway. "We will use the
smoke to detect any draught."
For the next two hours they moved through all levels of the tomb,
holding aloft the burning tapers, watching the movement of the smoke. At
no point could they detect even the faintest movement of air in the
tunnels, and in the end they came back to the flooded shaft and stared
despairingly at the pool of still black water that blocked it.
"That is the only way out," von Schiller whispered.
11 wonder if the monk escaped that way," said Nahoot as he slumped down
the wall.
"There is no other way."
They were silent for a while; it -was difficult to judge the passage of
time in the tomb. Now that the river had found its own level there was
no movement of water in the shaft, and the faint and distant sound of
the current running through the sink-hole seemed merely to enhance the
silence. In it they could hear their own breathing.
Nahoot spoke at last. "The fuel in the generator. It must be running
low. I did not see any reserves-'
They thought about what would happen when the small fuel tank ran dry.
They thought about the darkness to come.
Suddenly von Schiller screamed, "You have to go out through the shaft to
fetch help. I order you to do it., Nahoot stared at him in disbelief.
"It's over a hundred yards back through the tunnel to the outside, and
the river is in flood."
Von Schiller sprang to his feet and stood over Nahoot threateningly.
"The monk escaped that way. It's the only way. You must swim through the
tunnel and reach Helm and Nogo. Helm will know what to do. He will make
a plan to get me out of here."
"You are mad." Nahoot backed away from him, but'von Schiller followed
him.
"I order you to do id'
"You crazy old man!" Nahoot tried to scramble to his feet, but von
Schiller swung the heavy golden flail, a sudden unexpected blow in
Nahoot's face that knocked him over backwards, splitting his lips and
breaking off two of his front teeth.
"You are rnad!" he wailed. "You can't do this-' but von Schiller swung