Again he felt convinced that the spirit of Akhnaton had selected him to do this work. Freddy had been chosen to bestow upon mankind the contents of the royal tomb, which held such a mass of confounding matter. We are all the chosen workers in the Perfect Law, units in the Divine State.
As he rode on and on, he wondered what Abdul was thinking about, what his feelings were. Was he anticipating disappointment or success? What had his eyes seen?
They were approaching the spot indicated by the saint. It would, of course, take them some time to discover the chamber which held the hidden treasure, but it was sufficiently thrilling to be drawing nearer and nearer to the hills. The canvas had been removed from his sun-shelter; only the framework remained. It looked like the skeleton-ribs of an animal against the blue of the sky.
Suddenly Abdul came riding forward. He had something to say; he never disturbed Michael's meditations unnecessarily.
"Does the Effendi see anything in the distance?"
"No, Abdul, nothing. What do you see?"
Abdul's calm voice had betrayed a little emotion.
"Look once more, Effendi—over there, to the left, close to the hills."
Michael looked, and while he looked he was conscious of an ominous atmosphere in the silence.
"Can the Effendi see nothing?"