The Mummy Snatcher of Memphis Read Online Free PDF Page B

“greatest mind of the age” and was proud to count him a friend. It was wicked of Aunt Hilda to have invited Mr. Darwin. Not to mention the newspapermen. What could I do to help Father? I was forced to put a brave face on it.
    â€œShush, Papa, think of the fabulous mummies aunt Hilda has brought you. The Pitt will have the finest collection in Europe!”
    â€œFor all my hard work to come to this. Mr. Darwin is here! He will see me playing the lead role in a foolish pantomime.” An ancient Egyptian mask of the jackal god Anubis, covered in crackled gold, trembled in father’s hands. “I am a serious man, Kit. My reputation will be ruined. My museum will become a joke.”
    â€œHe will not recognize you when you put on the mask. Remember, Papa, do not take the mask off, whatever happens.”
    I could not afford to pamper Father for too long. Waldo, Ahmed, Rachel and Isaac were waiting for me. This was our chance. We had to get to the mummy now before my aunt’s great show began. With a reassuring squeeze of Father’s arm, I slipped off into the wings where I hoped the coffin was kept. It was a badly lit, dusty space but there it was, lying on the floor. My heart began to beat as I saw the sarcophagus: a beautiful thing, covered in hieroglyphics and paintings of the ancient gods—Maat, feathered goddess of truth, Ptah, creator of all, Anubis, the jackal-headed one.
    â€œHelp me open it,” I hissed, straining to lift the heavy wooden lid. Waldo came up and assisted me. The wood gave a loud creak. We strained again and it gave another creak. It was going to be very difficult to open.
    â€œGood heavens!” a voice rang out. Aunt Hilda stood in front of us, swathed in white robes that made her look like a rather hefty mummy. “What on earth?” By her side stood two of her Egyptian workers.
    â€œWe were just curious,” I blurted. “We wanted to see the mummy.”
    â€œOut of the question. This sarcophagus has not been opened for
thousands of years. I
want to be the one to do it! Scoot now. We have to prepare for my grand mummy unwrapping.”
    I was thoroughly annoyed with myself as we madeour way into the theater. We had blown our chance to find the scarab. Of course, Aunt Hilda was planning to unwrap the mummy as part of the show. Why had I hung about listening to Father’s moaning? As we shoved our way through the packed benches I cursed myself for not acting sooner. If they unraveled the mummy’s bandages surely they would find the scarab and our task would become much harder?
    No sooner had we found a place to stand in the corner than a blanket of darkness descended on the hall; so deep we became shadows against the velvet night. At the back of the hall a woman screamed. Somewhere a plaintive bell wailed. A strange smell swept through the room, musky and rich, redolent of desert tombs and rotting flesh. Rachel felt her way to me and gripped my arm in the darkness. The wailing grew and two yellowy gaslights flared at the front of the stage as the curtains slowly pulled back. Perched in all its splendor on a rough oak table was the coffin of Ptah Hotep. How its wonderful hieroglyphs shone, glowing turquoise, scarlet and gold. Those eerie paintings of ancient gods had come back to haunt modern man.
    Two of Aunt Hilda’s workers, dressed in pale robes, stood on each side of the coffin. They carried ancient Egyptian instruments called sistrums, which are a bit like babies’ rattles. As they shook their sistrums, a gruesomefigure emerged out of the murk. Pointed ears, a long doggy snout, red eyes gleaming out of the grotesque shadows of its face. A golden headdress flowed down its back. The jackal god, Anubis, lolloped to the front of the stage on his spindly legs. Around me I could hear the deliciously fearful
oooohs
and
aaaahs
of the ladies. Even though I knew it was dear papa under that mask, I shivered. This was something feral, an