Kit of Greenacre Farm Part 17

"I am baffled," the Dean conceded, genially. "I've reached a certain point and there there is a blank which no historic record seems to fill. I thought when I had restored the inscription on the urn that it would tell me several of the missing points, but it seems to be merely a sort of sacred invocation. I am amazed at the urn being hollow. Every other memorial urn which I found during our excavations in Egypt was sealed, and upon being opened we always found rolls of papyrii within. I am disappointed."

Kit went into the back parlor and lifted the urn from the piano very carefully, carrying it out to its customary place on the Dean's desk. Then she stood staring at it, reflectively. It certainly was not exactly a thing of beauty, although, as the Dean had pointed out to her, one saw the influence of Grecian art in its graceful lines. It always reminded Kit of Indian pottery down among the Zunis and Mexicans.

"What does the inscription say?" Kit leaned forward anxiously.

"It merely traces the origin of King Amenotaph to the G.o.d Thoth," said the Dean, thoughtfully; "that is, the Egyptian Hermes, or Mercury, as we know him, and it is extremely vague, being a curious mixture of the Coptic and the ancient Aramaic."

"But what does it say?" asked Kit again.

The Dean followed the curious markings on the urn with his finger-tip, bending forward and peering over the rims of his tortoise-sh.e.l.l gla.s.ses.

"It says, 'Amenotaph, born of Thoth, shall reign in wisdom. Kings shall serve at his footstool. Ra shall s.h.i.+ne upon him. He shall lie in peace, encompa.s.sed by Ra.'"

"Is that all?"

"That is all," sighed the Dean. "It seems merely a laudatory sentiment."

"Who was Ra?" asked Kit, curiously, running her hand around the top of the urn.

"The Sun G.o.d. His symbol was the circle. You see it here."

Kit repeated again, slowly:

"'He shall lie in peace, encompa.s.sed by Ra,' That means surrounded by Ra, doesn't it, Uncle Ca.s.sius?" She picked up the um in both hands and shook it close to her ear.

"My dear child, do be careful," cried the Dean; "it is priceless."

But Kit put it under one arm as though it had been a milk pail and tapped around the inside with her knuckles, listening.

"That's a perfectly good hollow jug," she said, solemnly. "Just you tap it, and listen, uncle. I'll bet a cookie they've hidden something inside the outside and that Ra has guarded it all these years."

"Just a moment, just a moment, my dear," exclaimed the Dean, smiling like a happy boy. "You've given me an idea. This may be a cryptogram, or an ideographic cypher. Just a moment, now; don't speak to me."

He sat down at the desk and figured laboriously for nearly twenty minutes, working out the inscription in cypher, while Kit stared at him delightedly. After all, it was rather gratifying, she thought, to have somebody in the family who could take a little remark made thousands of years ago in old Egypt and make sense out of it to-day. She waited patiently until he had finished. His hands were trembling as he reached for the urn.

"The circle," he repeated, "the circle. 'Ra in his circle shall guard Amenotaph.' The secret lies in the circle, Kit. Do you suppose it could mean the rim of the urn?"

Kit knelt beside him, following the inscription on the outside of the urn carefully with her finger-tip, the same as the Dean had done, and stopping when she came to a small circle in black and red outline.

"Do you suppose Ra lives here, Uncle Ca.s.sius?" she asked, poking at it thoughtfully. She peered on the inner side at the corresponding spot to the circle, and gave a little cry of excitement. There was the faintest sign of a circle here also, like one of the age cracks on Cousin Roxy's antique china. "See," she cried. "When you push on this side, the other gives a little bit."

The Dean could not speak. He took the urn from her over to the window and carefully examined the inner circle through a microscope.

"Yes," he said, fervently, "you are perfectly right, my dear. The circle moves. I think I shall have to take it to Was.h.i.+ngton on our way east. I would not take the responsibility of trying to remove it myself."

"Oh, dear, it seems awful to have to wait so long," Kit exclaimed, regretfully. "You know it seemed to me as if you could just press it through with your thumb, like this."

She had not intended pressing so hard, but merely to show him what she meant, and lo, as Cousin Roxy would have said, under the pressure of Kit's strong, young, capable thumb, the circle of Ra depressed and pushed slowly through, just exactly as Kit told the girls long afterwards, like when you plug a watermelon. The Dean looked on in utter amazement, as Kit lifted the urn and tested the inner section by shaking it. Then she peered into the circular hole, about the size of a quarter. The urn was fully two inches thick, and by inserting her finger into the s.p.a.ce she found that it was made in two sections, with enough room between for a place of concealment.

"There's something in here like asbestos, Uncle Ca.s.sius," she began, and turning the urn upside down, she tried shaking it, using a little pressure on the circle to separate the two rims. Slowly they gave, while the Dean hovered over her, cautioning and directing the operation, until two complete urns lay before them. But it was not these which the Dean literally s.n.a.t.c.hed at. It was the curious cap-shaped ma.s.s which fell out in the form of a cone. To Kit it appeared to be of no significance whatever, but the Dean handled it as tenderly as a new-born infant, and under his deft and tender touch it unrolled in long scrolls of papyrus.

The Dean rose to his feet solemnly, and his voice was hushed, as he said:

"Kit, you do not know what you have done. Some day the significance of this occasion will recur to you. All I can say is that you have lifted the veil of the past, and revealed the secret of Amenotaph."

CHAPTER XXII

HEADED FOR GILEAD

It was very hard for Kit to keep her mind on Orlando that evening, between the excitement of the coming trip and the revelation of the urn. But after it was over the girls cl.u.s.tered around her for one last send-off, and she realized then how closely the ties of friends.h.i.+p had been cemented in her few months at Hope.

She looked around at them with eyes filled with tears, and Kit was not at all of the crying type, but it seemed as if each girl of her own special crowd had filled a particular niche in her life for the time being. There was Charity, with her eye-gla.s.ses, and placid face, upturned smiling lips and quizzical eyes. How often she had taken the edge off Kit's rancor and indignation with just a few timely, humorous words. Amy, Norma, Peggy, and High Jinks had been the starters in all kinds of fun and recreation, while Anne had seemed to come the nearest to her of them all in actual comrades.h.i.+p. Then last of all, Marcelle. It was she who clasped Kit's hand, as she repeated in her low voice:

"While the gra.s.s grows and the waters run, so long shall we be friends."

"For pity's sakes, girls," exclaimed Miss Daphne, "don't act as if you were never going to see her again. I shall see that she comes back in vacation next year, because the Dean and I couldn't possibly do without her, now."

Just before it was time to leave for the train Monday morning, Rex and Anne brought over their farewell gift.

"It's supposed to be like a steamer basket," Anne said, "only this is a train basket. We figured on your being on the train for at least two days, if you do happen to stop over in Was.h.i.+ngton."

Kit did not open it until they boarded the limited in Chicago and were well on their way, speeding eastward. There was no sign of snow as yet, but the land seemed to lie locked in a frosty grip of barrenness. The Dean seemed to smile perpetually now. He occupied the lower part of the section across the aisle, and Kit loved to watch him as he sat by the window, his little black skullcap making him look like a portrait of an old-time French savant. Every now and then he would glance up and meet her eyes with a little smile of mutual understanding. It was as if they, too, were united in a close bond of sympathy, ever since they had solved the mystery of Amenotaph and Ra's circle.

When lunch time drew near Kit opened the train basket. There were fruit and home-made preserves, little tempting jars of sweet pickles and stuffed olives, home-made fruit cake and jars of club cheese with thin wafers that just matched them. The girls at Hope had sent down five pounds of fudge as a parting gift to be included in the basket, but best of all, Kit thought, was a young wild turkey, roasted to perfection, and stuffed with chestnuts.

"Isn't this just like Anne!" Kit exclaimed, exultantly. "She knows how I love to nibble on good things to eat. Now we won't have to go into the dining-car for lunch, and it will seem like a regular picnic having it here."

The Dean was like a boy in his enjoyment of the unconventional luncheon.

He ordered a wonderful salad as his share and a pot of French cocoa.

"Doesn't this remind you, Daphne, of some of the basket luncheons we used to have in England and France years ago?" he said, happily.

"Cousin Beth told us last year about a party she was with that went to the North Cape," Kit related, "and just when they were all transfixed by the majesty of the midnight sun one of the ladies said it was the most unique experience of her whole life, eating crackers and cheese on the North Cape."

"She would have left peanut sh.e.l.ls on Fujiyama," the Dean replied, gravely.

They reached Was.h.i.+ngton the following day, and here the weather was even milder, with almost a touch of autumn left in the air. Christmas was Thursday, and Kit had pleaded for them not to miss Christmas Eve at home, so while the Dean took the urn up to the Inst.i.tute, and left his records there, Miss Daphne and Kit spent nearly four hours driving around the city and visiting famous points of interest.

"Be sure and take a taxi, so you'll cover more ground," the Dean suggested when he left them, but Kit could not resist the beaming smile of one of the old-time darky coachmen, who sat drowsing on the seat of an open victoria outside the Capitol grounds. He was dressed in an old Colonial blue livery, with a tall silk hat, curving out at the top like those of the seventies.

"But, Aunt Daphne, doesn't he act just exactly as though he had been a retainer in our honored family for generations?" Kit regarded his back with distinct approbation as they drove along Pennsylvania Avenue, and when the old fellow raised his whip in salute to every other old retainer perched on the box of a victoria that they met, she was delighted.

The Dean joined them for dinner at one of the old exclusive hotels in the White House section of town, and here Kit fairly reveled in the general atmosphere of diplomatic tone. She sighed involuntarily, watching a very beautiful woman who sat at an adjoining table, when she extended her hand in greeting to two foreign-appearing gentlemen in uniform, and they both bowed over it and kissed it.