otched skin was
drawn tightly from bone to bone, and a tangled wrap of black coarse hair
fell over the ears. Two thin teeth, like those of a rat, overlay the
shrivelled lower lip. In its crouching position, with bent joints and
craned head, there was a suggestion of energy about the horrid thing
which made Smith's gorge rise. The gaunt ribs, with their parchment-like
covering, were exposed, and the sunken, leaden-hued abdomen, with the
long slit where the embalmer had left his mark; but the lower limbs were
wrapped round with coarse yellow bandages. A number of little
clove-like pieces of myrrh and of cassia were sprinkled over the body,
and lay scattered on the inside of the case.

"I don't know his name," said Bellingham, passing his hand over the
shrivelled head. "You see the outer sarcophagus with the inscriptions is
missing. Lot 249 is all the title he has now. You see it printed on his
case. That was his number in the auction at which I picked him up."

"He has been a very pretty sort of fellow in his day," remarked
Abercrombie Smith.

"He has been a giant. His mummy is six feet seven in length, and that
would be a giant over there, for they were never a very robust race.
Feel these great knotted bones, too. He would be a nasty fellow to
tackle."

"Perhaps these very hands helped to build the stones into the pyramids,"
suggested Monkhouse Lee, looking down with disgust in his eyes at the
crooked, unclean talons.

"No fear. This fellow has been pickled in natron, and looked after in
the most approved style. They did not serve hodsmen in that fashion.
Salt or bitumen was enough for them. It has been calculated that this
sort of thing cost about seven hundred and thirty pounds in our money.
Our friend was a noble at the least. What do you make of that small
inscription near his feet, Smith?"

"I told you that I know no Eastern tongue."

"Ah, so you did. It is the name of the embalmer, I take it. A very
conscientious worker he must have been. I wonder how many modern works
will survive four thousand years?"

He kept on speaking lightly and rapidly, but it was evident to
Abercrombie Smith that he was still palpitating with fear. His hands
shook, his lower lip trembled, and look where he would, his eye always
came sliding round to his gruesome companion. Through all his fear,
however, there was a suspicion of triumph in his tone and manner. His
eyes shone, and his footstep, as he paced the room, was brisk and