Attached to the museum was a library and drawing office, a photographic dark room, apartments for the curator and his wife. A man who engaged the native labour required for the excavations superintended the work of the men and acted as general agent and intermediary between the European officials and all Easterns with whom they came in contact.
This man was well known in the city—a character in his way. In the reports of the Exploring Society he was often referred to as an invaluable assistant. But a year ago his portrait had been published in the annual statement of the fund, and the face of the Greek Ionides in his turban lay upon the study tables of many a quiet English vicarage.
Spence entered the courtyard of the building. It was quiet and deserted; some pigeons were feeding there.
He turned under a stone archway to the right, pushed open a door, and entered the museum.
There was a babel of voices.
A small group of people stood by a wooden pedestal in the centre of the room, which supported the famous cruciform font found at Bîâr Es-seb'a.
They turned at Spence's entrance. He saw some familiar faces of people with whom he had been brought in contact during the time of the first discovery.
Two English missionaries, one in orders, the English Consul, and Professor Theodore Adams, the American archæologist, who lived all the year round in the new western suburb, stood speaking in grave tones and with distressed faces—so it seemed to the intruder.
An Egyptian servant, dressed in white linen, carrying a bunch of keys, was with them.
In his hand the Consul held a roll of yellow native wax.