No eyes had Unis for the jewels with which Amenhotep’s sorrowing master had covered the dead architect. The throbbing brain of Unis was concentrated upon but one thing, the Magic Book.
It was not in the wrappings. It was not between the knees of the deceased, where, as Unis knew, so often documents are placed. It was not between the folded hands of Amenhotep. It was neither at his head nor at his feet.
Unis replaced the body in its coffin, throwing the linens in upon it pellmell. He covered it with its two wooden covers. The great stone outer cover he knew must stay where it had fallen. He could have that replaced by others, following his report on the present condition of the extra wrappings of the son of Hap, which had been his ostensible reason for entering the tomb.
Unis once again took mallet in hand. He carefully and methodically examined both walls and floor.
He dared not rap upon the False Door. Behind it slept Amenhotep’s living self, as represented by his statue.
Unis had far more terror of that enchanted wooden portrait of the dead man than he had of the body; the shell, of Amenhotep itself.
Alas, all his efforts were in vain. The Book of Books was not in the tomb.
Bitterly disappointed, Unis stooped to pick up his flickering lamp. As he did so his eyes fell upon a gleaming object which was almost hidden in the sand at his feet. Mechanically he picked it up and glanced at the blue and green inlays. The _tat_-emblem and solar-disc upon its gold base showed it to be the scarab-ring of Amenhotep, son of Hap.
From that date, Unis spent all the daylight hours among the tombs of the Theban cemetery. He systematically covered every foot of the hill-side, entering both the ancient tombs, and the modern, as far as he was allowed. At night he delved among the ancient scrolls of the library of Amen.
Each night upon his return he had been met by the impatient Enana. Every night, week in, week out, he had perforce to shake his head, to spread his scratched and often bleeding hands deprecatingly.
Of late Unis’ step had lost its elasticity. An unnatural brightness glistened in his sunken eyes. To-night, especially, Enana’s mind had been filled with anxiety for his safety.
Unis should have rounded the point by the tamarisk grove hours ago. Enana’s anxiety was not for Unis. His one thought was of the Book. The Book he must have, if he would put his present plans into effect.