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it was adorned with a few spindly palm trees and a large marble sarcophagus-no ancient relic, but a modern monument in which rested the remains of Auguste Mariette, the revered founder of the Service des Antiquites.
    The boys were waiting for us next to the bronze statue of Mariette. David swept off his hat; Ramses raised a hand to his brow and looked surprised to discover he was not wearing a hat. He had had one on when we left the boat. I did not bother asking what he had done with it. Hats and Ramses were not compatible. I had come to believe it was a hereditary trait.
    "Where is your father?" I asked.
    "He went off on some errand or other," Ramses replied. "Since he chose not to volunteer information concerning his destination or his intentions, I did not inquire. He said he would meet us here at the agreed-upon hour."
    I was pleased to hear this. Emerson always loses his temper when he visits the museum, and it is necessary for me to be with him in order to prevent him from storming into the office of the director and calling him rude names. "Have you paid your respects to M. Maspero?" I inquired.
    "He was not in his office," Ramses said. "We spoke with Herr Brugsch. I-er-happened to mention to him that Father would be along shortly."
    Emerson does not get on well with very many Egyptologists, but he had a set of special curses reserved for Emile Brugsch, Maspero's assistant, whom he considered both incompetent and dishonest.
    "Ah," I said. "So Brugsch will take care not to be in his office either. Well done, Ramses."
    "Well done?" Nefret exclaimed. "If Brugsch and Maspero have both left, how am I to get permission to see my mummy? Curse it, Ramses, you promised-"
    "I asked about it," Ramses said. "Unfortunately, the mummy in question appears to have been misplaced."
    "What?" It was my turn to be outraged. "Our mummy? Lost, do you mean?"
    "Brugsch assured me it was not lost, only-er-temporarily misplaced. They are still moving objects from the old museum. He is certain it will turn up."
    "Turn up, indeed. Emerson is absolutely right to criticize Maspero's methods; there is no excuse for such slipshod measures now that the new museum has been built. But I see Emerson coming; for pity's sake don't mention this to him or he will explode."
    After an affectionate exchange of greetings we entered the museum and went up the handsome staircase to the Galerie d'Honneur on the first floor, where the materials from Tetisheri's tomb were prominently displayed. As Maspero had been gracious enough to admit, they were one of the treasures of the museum, even though they did not include the mummy and coffins of the queen. What had become of them no one knew, not even ourselves; but there had been enough of the queen's funerary goods remaining to make a breathtaking display-ushabtis and statues, inlaid chests and alabaster jars, a throne-chair completely covered in gold leaf chased with delicate designs-and the piece de resistance, a chariot. When we found it in the queen's tomb it was in pieces, but all the parts were there, including the spoked wheels. The body, of wood covered with gesso and linen, had been carved and gilded, and we had had the devil of a job stabilizing the fragile materials so that they would not deteriorate any further than they already had. Emerson had himself supervised the removal of the chariot to Cairo and seen it reassembled in a large glass case. Every time we visited the museum he walked round and round the case, examining every inch of the precious thing to make certain no more bits had fallen off.
    Unfortunately, they usually had. This put Emerson in a bad humor, and he began grumbling about everything he could think of. "Maspero ought to have kept everything together, curse it. The jewelry-"
    "Is, as is proper, in the Jewel Room," I replied. "Where it can be more easily protected."
    "Hmm," said Ramses. He was studying the padlocks on the wooden cases with a degree of interest that made me somewhat