ble to assume an
outward appearance of calmness, he was putting a great strain on his
self-control. He held himself so well in hand that the stranger little
guessed how much his answer meant to the exhausted traveller.

"Amenhotep IV."

A cry rang through the room. "Akhnaton! did you say? Then it is
true!" Margaret, the old man in el-Azhar, and the saint, they had all
seen and spoken the truth. For a moment the stranger was forgotten.
It was Margaret who was looking at him with glad triumphant eyes.
Happy Meg!

"Yes, the heretic Pharaoh," the stranger said, as he gazed fixedly at
Michael. Was this man more than a little touched with the sun? He
felt nervous of how to proceed. Why was he so excited and pleased?
"These hills, you know, were the boundary of his capital. You appear
interested in him? He certainly was a wonderful character."

The more conventional and colder tones of his voice made Michael
guarded. Kind as he was, he was just the type of man who would laugh
to scorn anything he might have told him. Freddy's friendly laughter
never troubled Michael; the scorn of a stranger was a different thing.

"Have they deciphered any of the papyri?"

"No, we haven't had the time. We've only gone into them sufficiently
to discover their date. This is, of course, a temporary search. We
can only do in a month what is absolutely necessary. If regular
excavations are to be made, which I presume there will be, we shall, of
course, have to wait for a bit, while the final regulations are gone
through, and until the necessary money is forthcoming. These last new
rules and restrictions are putting a stop to any private enterprise.
There is nothing left to pay the cost of the dig."

"On the whole, I suppose, they do good?"

"They don't do what they were meant to do--and that is, stop the
stealing and the selling of valuable antiques which the Government,
rightly enough, does not wish to leave the country, and desires to have
the disposal of."

"I had hoped the new restrictions would stop that."

"You see, the penalties only apply to the natives and the Turks, with
the result that the native dealer simply puts an Italian or a Greek
name over his door. To the foreigner, the native is only the agent,
officially--the dealer is the Greek or Italian whose name is over the
door."

"They'd be sure to get out of the difficulty somehow," Michael said.
"About antiques they have no conscience, and they are awful