The Mummy Smugglers of Crumblin Castle

by Pamela Rushby

  The Ravens glanced at each other with narrowed, dark eyes, then turned their gaze on Hattie. She suddenly felt that perhaps she’d said too much.

  “There is no problem, is there?” said Great-uncle Sisyphus. “You would have some time available to instruct Hattie?”

  The Ravens had no choice but to agree. “Yes, of course, Sir Sisyphus.” Edgar Raven sounded as if he was grinding his teeth. “We will begin as soon as possible.”

  The Ravens were not about to make things easy for her, Hattie found. When she went to the study for her first lesson, she was not left alone for a moment. The cabinets of correspondence, invoices and receipts were firmly closed, and Edgar Raven’s attache case was nowhere in sight. All that was on the desk was a tall pile of papers from their Egyptian journey. All bills and receipts. No records of withdrawals of money. Well, Hattie thought, she hadn’t expected there to be. The Ravens might be cunning, but they were not stupid.

  “Perhaps you would like to start here?” said Edgar. “All these bills and receipts need to be checked against each other, and then totalled. Then, you see, we will be aware of the total cost of the journey.”

  It meant an afternoon of adding up long columns of figures, checking the totals, and then doing it all again if Hattie’s results did not match those of the Ravens. It was a very long afternoon. Hattie discovered nothing she had not known before. Which was, of course, exactly what the Ravens wanted. They clearly intended to bore her into giving up her plan. She sighed as Edgar handed her another long column of figures to add up, and her gaze slid to the securely closed cabinets. The answers must be in there, she knew. How could she get to them?

  Hattie was greatly relieved when tea time grew near. She rose, ready to leave the room, and her foot caught on something under the desk. She stumbled, and looked down. It was Edgar Raven’s attache case, tucked discreetly out of sight. Hattie stared at it. If only she had been able to use the papers she had seen in it before the Ravens returned!

  The study had become very quiet. Hattie looked up from the attache case to find the Ravens’ hard, dark eyes on her. They know! she thought in a sudden panic. They know I’ve opened the attache case. They know I’ve seen their papers.

  “Hattie,” said Edgar Raven. His voice was very low.

  “Y-yes?”

  Edgar Raven leaned back in his chair and folded his hands. “You will remember, when we were in Egypt, that we – um – discussed how easy it would be for an elderly man, already unsteady on his feet, to stumble.”

  “Fall overboard,” said Edwina Raven.

  “Into a river teeming with crocodiles,” said Edgar Raven.

  Hattie said nothing. The crackling of the fire was the only sound in the room.

  “There are crocodiles in the waters outside the castle,” said Edgar Raven. “Many crocodiles. You should think about that.”

  The fire crackled busily.

  “Well, I think it is time for tea,” said Edgar Raven pleasantly. “Shall we go?”

  They both rose, and waited for Hattie to leave the study. Then they followed her, closing the door firmly behind them.

  Hattie did not have a pleasant time in the next few days. She was greatly worried about the Ravens’ threats to Great-uncle Sisyphus. Crocodiles should not harm him, she thought, if he was wearing his amulets. But one could not be sure. Even an immersion in cold water could have serious effects on his health. And the date of the next unwrapping party was almost upon them.

  “I think,” said Great-aunt Iphigenia, “that for Lady Strathcair’s unwrapping party I shall begin with the small mummy, that of the young girl. You have finished translating the hieroglyphs on that mummy case, have you not, Sisyphus? You will not be needing it again?”

  “No, indeed,” said Great-uncle Sisyphus. “I have everything I need. Hattie kept very detailed notes for me. By all means, begin with that one, Iphigenia.”

  Hattie was horrified. As she had worked with Great-uncle Sisyphus on translating Tayasetimu’s mummy case, Hattie had come to think of the young Singer of the Interior of Amun as a real person. She was a girl with a family, a girl who took part in sacred rituals in the temple, and played a musical instrument. Hattie almost felt, from the golden face painted on the mummy case, that she knew what Tayasetimu looked like. She had become quite attached to her. She did not want Tayasetimu to be unwrapped! Well, she did not want any of the mummies to be unwrapped, but especially not Tayasetimu!

  “But –” she said urgently, then stopped. What could she say? If Great-aunt Iphigenia was going to continue with her unwrapping parties, mummies were going to be unwrapped. There was nothing she could do about it.

  “Did you say something, Hattie?” asked Great-aunt Iphigenia.

  “No,” said Hattie miserably.

  “So, tomorrow, I think you should look out your Egyptian costume,” said Great-aunt Iphigenia. “Make sure that it is clean and tidy. In fact –” She looked Hattie up and down. “I think you should try it on and make sure it still fits. I do believe you have grown while we were away.”

  “When must we leave for London?” asked Hattie.

  “The day after tomorrow,” Great-aunt Iphigenia replied.

  Hattie did not know what to do. She had no appetite for her dinner that night. When she went to bed in her little circular tower room, she could not sleep. She curled up on the cushioned seat under the window and stared out at the night. Snow was falling, a few light flakes brushing against the glass. Out in the darkness, Hattie knew, crocodiles and hippopotamuses slithered and rolled in the black water. Hattie thought, and worried, and fretted.

  The door creaked, opened a crack, and bright eyes peered in at her. The kittens tumbled into the room, bounding onto the bed, leaping onto the dressing table. One of them dislodged a small piece of paper that lay there, knocking it to the floor, then pouncing on it and gleefully batting it around the room.

  “No, naughty,” said Hattie. She leaned over and picked up the piece of paper. It was the card Professor Helman had given her in Egypt, with the address of his museum. She replaced it on the dressing table, then sat back in the window seat again. The kittens immediately jumped up onto the seat, crowding into Hattie’s lap and snuggling up around her shoulders and neck. Hattie hugged them, and felt a little comforted. But she still had no idea what to do. Probably, she thought in despair, she could do nothing. Nothing at all.

  Hattie had no enthusiasm for preparing for the unwrapping party the next day. She put off checking her Egyptian costume for as long as she could, until Great-aunt Iphigenia reminded her. “No, I haven’t done it yet,” Hattie said. “I’ll do it now.”

  She went up to her room, dragging her feet, and took the costume out of her wardrobe. She shook out the wig and arranged the tiny plaits in place, then put on the linen dress and sandals. Great-aunt Iphigenia had been right, she noted. She did appear to have grown; the dress was a little short. Well, it would have to do for now. She reached for the necklace of coloured beads, running her fingers over the gold-coloured hawk that hung from it. She had always liked the necklace, it was so beautiful, even though Great-uncle Sisyphus had said it was worth nothing.

  Was it really worthless? Professor Helman might know. She would like to show it to him. She slid the necklace over her head and settled it around her neck. She would not bother to do her make-up, she decided, she would just make sure all the little pots and brushes were packed into her bag. She went to the dressing table to find them, and her eye fell on Professor Helman’s card. She tucked it into the side of the mirror for safekeeping. Would she ever see him again, she wondered. It seemed unlikely.

  Hattie gazed at her reflection in the mirror. She really did not want to do this any more. She did not want to play the part of an Egyptian princess. She did not want to take part in the unwrappings. But how could she tell Great-aunt Iphigenia that? It was all very depressing.

  Without thinking of what she was doing, or even where she was going, Hattie wandered out of her room, up stair
s, down corridors. Before she realised it, she was standing outside the mummy room. She opened the door and went in.

  The six mummy cases stood propped against the walls. The room was cold, very cold, and Hattie, in her sleeveless Egyptian costume, rubbed her arms and shivered. But it was more than the temperature that was making her shiver. It was the feeling of great sadness, of deep despair, that filled it from floor to ceiling. It came, Hattie was sure, from the mummies.

  “Oh, I don’t want anything to happen to you,” whispered Hattie. “I really don’t. Especially you, Tayasetimu! I’m so sorry. But I can’t do anything to stop it!”

  She could not stand to be in the room for another second. She wrenched open the door and hurried outside. She was going to cry, she knew. More than cry. Wail. Howl. She stopped for a moment to brush tears angrily out of her eyes. She was a Lambton! Lambtons didn’t cry about their problems, they did something about them. But what? What?

  Hattie leaned on the wall by a narrow, arched window. She screwed up her face and thought and thought. No ideas occurred to her. Then, outside, on the road going past the castle, a movement in the mist caught her eye. It was a horse and cart, on the road to Ely.

  Hattie stared down at the cart. She froze for a second. She gripped the edge of the window until her fingers turned white. Then she moved. She turned. She ran. She did not think. She flung open the door of the mummy room again, took three long, hurried paces inside and seized Tayasetimu’s mummy case. The case was small and light. She could carry it easily. Down the corridors, up and down stairs she ran, carrying the mummy case. Straight back to her room.

  Hattie set the mummy case down on the window seat and flung open her wardrobe. She dragged out her winter coat and outdoor boots and a hat, and a hooded cloak. It was the work of moments to pull her coat and hat on over her Egyptian costume, and to wrap the mummy case in the cloak. She tugged the hood well forward over the head of the case. Only a gleam of golden face peered out.

  Where was she going? Hattie wasn’t sure, but she knew she was going somewhere. She was going to save Tayasetimu! But where? How?

  Hattie looked out the window. The horse and cart were nearly at the castle. There was no time to lose. She stared around wildly. And then, suddenly, she knew exactly where she was going. Professor Helman’s card, small and white, seemed to beckon to her from its place tucked into the edge of the mirror. If you ever need a friend, he had said. If you ever need help . . . She certainly needed both now, Hattie thought. She plucked the card from the mirror, picked up the cloaked mummy case, and fled down the twisting stairs.

  At the door leading to the great hall, Hattie paused. She eased the door open a crack and peered out. There was no one there. Go! Go! Hattie fled across the great hall, struggled with the lock on the massive front door and heaved it open. No time to close it again. She ran across the courtyard, over the rattling bridge, and disappeared into the mist. Had the horse and cart gone? Could she catch up with them?

  Behind her, from the great hall, bright eyes looked out into the swirling mist in the courtyard. The kittens watched her go.

  The horse and cart had not gone far. Hattie thanked heaven as she saw their shape appear in the mist before her.

  “Please!” she called. “Oh, please!”

  The driver looked around and clucked to his horse to stop. He waited for the two figures, wrapped in their heavy coats, to reach him. “What is it, my maids?” he said. “Be you wanting something?”

  “Yes,” Hattie said breathlessly. “Are you going to Ely? Would you be so kind as to take us?”

  “To Ely? To be sure, that’s where I’m a-going. I’ve no objection to you lasses riding along. As long as –” He looked suddenly stern. “You come from the castle? Work there, do ye? Not running away now, be ye?”

  “Running away?” Hattie swallowed a squeak of dismay. “Oh no! It’s our – it’s our, um, afternoon off!”

  “Right ye are. Climb on, then.”

  Hattie scrambled, somehow, onto the back of the high cart, clutching Tayasetimu to her side. She settled on a pile of sacks as the driver clucked to his horse and the cart moved off.

  “I – I don’t know you, do I?” Hattie tried to make conversation. “Do you live in Otterbury?”

  “Otterbury? Not I. I been visiting my cousin.” There was a pause. “Funny old place, Otterbury. And the fens, too. Give me the creeps, the fens do. You see these?” He pointed to the front of the cart. “These little heathen-like figures? Like a crockydile and an ippopotamus? My cousin tied them on the cart before I left. Would do it, he would. Said it’d see me safe through the marshes.” He laughed. “How do you like that, then?”

  “Yes,” Hattie said carefully. “Lots of the carts and people around here have them.”

  “There you are then. And so, what do you do at the castle? A maid, are ye?”

  “Something like that,” Hattie agreed.

  The driver glanced curiously around at them. “Yer friend a maid too? Don’t say much, do she?”

  “She’s, um, she’s very – very shy,” said Hattie desperately.

  The cart rolled on. The mist seemed to lighten a little before them, Hattie noticed, then closed in behind them, thicker than ever, as they passed. It was almost as if the mist was covering their tracks, helping them to get away from the castle.

  They reached Ely. The driver pulled up to let them off the cart, not far from the station. “You have a good afternoon off now, my maids,” he said kindly. “Best get off home early, mind. That mist’s a thick one.”

  “Thank you,” Hattie said gratefully. “We will.”

  She turned towards the station. Now, somehow, to get on a train. A train to London. Hattie felt a shiver of dismay. She had never done anything like this, alone, before. It was quite daunting. Hattie stood still for a moment, almost overwhelmed. Then she straightened her back and put up her chin. She was a Lambton! She could do this! If only she didn’t have to do it all by herself . . .

  She gasped as a black shape bounded out of the mist and headed straight towards her. Hattie dodged, and the black shape changed direction and charged at her. “Stop it! Go away!” she gasped. But the black shape began to purr and Hattie looked down to see Sekhmet. Sekhmet, sitting gracefully at her feet and purring loudly.

  “Sekhmet?” Hattie could not believe it. “Sekhmet! But you never leave the castle. Never!”

  Sekhmet closed her golden eyes and opened them again. Today, clearly, I have, she seemed to say.

  “Oh, I’m so happy to see you!” Hattie would have loved to scoop Sekhmet up and hug her, as she did the kittens, but Sekhmet’s immense dignity seemed to rule that out. “Sekhmet? Do you mean to come to London with me?”

  Sekhmet inclined her head.

  “Then – then we must get the train.” Hattie started towards the platform, then stopped with a jolt. A ticket collector stood at the entrance. His job, Hattie knew, was to collect tickets from intending passengers. Tickets. She had no ticket. And she had no money.

  Hattie stepped back in dismay. Why, oh why, had she not thought to bring her purse? She had thought only of getting away. Now her great escape was over before it had begun.

  Passengers began to move onto the platform. The train must be due. Sekhmet fixed her glowing golden eyes on Hattie and nodded her head towards the street. A party of schoolgirls was approaching the station, walking demurely two by two, with a teacher at the head. Sekhmet nodded significantly.

  “You mean – join the girls?” Hattie whispered. “Is that what you mean?”

  If a cat could be said to roll her eyes, Sekhmet did so. She nodded again.

  “Yes!” Hattie said. “Yes! But – what about you? They won’t let a cat on the train! What can we do?”

  Sekhmet took a step back, then leapt. She landed lightly on Hattie’s shoulders, and curled herself around Hattie’s neck. She tucked her elegant head in, out of sight. Hattie smothered a delighted giggle. It looked exactly as if her coat had a fur collar, a ver
y luxurious fur collar. The group of schoolgirls passed by, two by two. Hattie stepped out casually and joined in at the end. She held the cloaked mummy case as straight as she could by her side.

  The two girls in the line in front of her looked around curiously. Hattie put her finger to her lips. “Sshh!” she whispered.

  The girls laughed, thinking it must be some kind of a joke. Sshh! They gestured back to Hattie. They reached the entrance to the platform. The girls’ teacher passed a handful of tickets to the ticket collector. He waved them through, not bothering to count the tickets. Hattie walked past him, gazing innocently in the other direction. They were through! They were on the platform! And the London train was pulling in.

  Hattie smiled at the two schoolgirls and walked away from the group. She found an empty compartment, opened the door, and bundled the mummy case inside and onto a seat. Then she sat down next to it with a loud sigh of relief. Sekhmet uncoiled herself from around Hattie’s neck. In a moment they would be off. In just a moment . . .

  Outside the station, there was a sudden flurry and disturbance. A carriage pulled up. Doors banged. Voices. Loud voices. Voices that, to her total dismay, Hattie recognised at once.

  It was the Ravens. They must, Hattie realised in horror, have discovered that she had gone. That the mummy case was missing. And they had guessed where she was going.

  Hide! She had to hide! The Ravens would be searching the train at any moment. They could be coming down the corridor even now. There was only one place to go.

  Hattie seized the mummy case, stuffed it into the narrow space under the seats and rolled in after it. She wriggled as far back as she could, Sekhmet sliding in beside her. They lay as still as stones, holding their breath.

  Footsteps rushed down the corridor, pausing momentarily at each compartment.

  “She must be on this train.” It was Edgar Raven’s voice.

  “London is the only place she would go with the mummy case.” That was Edwina Raven.