“I am baffled,” the Dean conceded genially. “I’ve reached a certain point and there is a blank which no historic record seems to fill. I thought when I had restored the inscription on the urn that it would tell me several of the missing points, but it seems to be merely a sort of sacred invocation. I am amazed at the urn being hollow. Every other memorial urn which I found during our excavations in Egypt was sealed, and upon being opened we always found rolls of papyrus within. I am disappointed.”
Kit lifted the urn very carefully and stared at it, reflectively. “What does the inscription say?” Kit asked.
“It merely traces the origin of King Amenotaph to the god Thoth,” said the Dean, thoughtfully, “that is, the Egyptian Hermes, or Mercury, as we know him, and it is extremely vague, being a curious mixture of the Coptic and the ancient Aramaic.”
“But what does it say?” asked Kit again.
The Dean followed the curious markings on the urn with his fingertip, bending forward as he did so. “It says, ‘Amenotaph, born of Thoth, shall reign in wisdom. Kings shall serve at his foot stool. Ra shall shine upon him. He shall lie in peace, encompassed by Ra.’”
“Is that all?”
“That is all,” sighed the Dean. “It seems merely a laudatory sentiment.”
“Who was Ra?” asked Kit curiously, running her hand around the top of the urn.
“The Sun god. His symbol was the circle. You see it here.”
Kit repeated again slowly, what her uncle had just read. Then she shook the urn close to her ear.