The Cat of Bubastes: A Tale of Ancient EgyptHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
History
The Cat of Bubastes: A Tale of Ancient Egypt
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction; Egypt -- History -- To 332 B.C. -- Fiction
“I think your plan is a very good one, Amuba. Before we start I will
make a search through the house. There will be nothing we want to take
with us, nor would we touch any of the treasure of the villains were
the house full of it; but if I toss some of the things about it will
look as if robbery had been the motive of what has taken place. The
men in bonds can know nothing of the real state of things. Plexo, when
he rushed out for their aid, could have had no time to do more than
to tell them to take up their arms and follow him; indeed, it is
doubtful whether he himself had any idea that we were aught but what
we seemed. Therefore, the first impression assuredly will be that we
were malefactors of the worst kind, escaped slaves, men with no
respect for the gods; for assuredly no Egyptians, even the worst of
criminals, would, in cold blood, have laid hands on the high priest of
Osiris.”
“They laid hands on my father,” Chebron said bitterly.
“Yes, but not in cold blood. Reports had first been spread among them
that he was untrue to the gods, and then they were maddened by
fanaticism and horror at the death of that sacred cat. But in cold
blood, as I said, no Egyptian, however vile and criminal, would lift
his hand against a priest. You may as well come with me, Amuba; it
would be strange if one of us only took part in the search.”
In ten minutes Jethro and Amuba had turned the place into confusion in
forcing open chests and cabinets and littering the floor with
garments; then taking a few of the most valuable vases and jewels they
threw them into the pond round the fountain, where they would be
concealed from view by the water-lilies which floated on its surface.
They examined afresh the fastenings of the captives, and felt assured
that by no possibility could they free themselves.
“They will be sure to be freed by to-morrow night,” Amuba said,
“otherwise I should not like to leave them here to die of hunger and
thirst.”
“I should be only too glad,” Jethro said, “if I thought there was a
chance of their being here forty hours instead of twenty. Doubtless
this is not the first evil business they have carried out for their
villain master, and they may think themselves lucky indeed that we do
not take what would be in every way the safest and best course,
namely, to run a sword through their bodies and silence them forever.
If I thought they could tell anything I would do so now; but I really
do not think that anything they can tell will add to our danger. Of
course the priest’s wife knows that Mysa is hidden here, and will
proclaim the fact that she has been here and is now missing, as she
would consider it might afford a clew for the apprehension of those
who attacked the house and slew her husband and son; therefore I do
not see that there would be much to be gained by silencing these
people; but if you think differently I will finish them at once.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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