clever. If you had not made me promise that this bronze should be yours
before you showed it me--well, it would never have gone into that
pocket again. And, in the public interest, won't you release me from the
promise?"

"_No_," said Smith.

"You are perhaps not aware," went on the Director, with a groan, "that
this is a portrait of Mariette's unknown queen whom we are thus able to
identify. It seems a pity that the two should be separated; a replica we
could let you have."

"I am quite aware," said Smith, "and I will be sure to send _you_ a
replica, with photographs. Also I promise to leave the original to some
museum by will."

The Director clasped the image tenderly, and, holding it to the light,
read the broken cartouche beneath the breasts.

"'Ma-Me, Great Royal Lady. Beloved of ----' Beloved of whom? Well, of
Smith, for one. Take it, monsieur, and hide it away at once, lest soon
there should be another mummy in this collection, a modern mummy called
Smith; and, in the name of Justice, let the museum which inherits it be
not the British, but that of Cairo, for this queen belongs to Egypt.
By the way, I have been told that you are delicate in the lungs. How is
your health now? Our cold winds are very trying. Quite good? Ah, that
is excellent! I suppose that you have no more articles that you can show
me?"

"I have nothing more except a mummied hand, which I found in the basket