Secret of the Prince's Tomb

by Marianne Hering

  Beth held the lamp with both hands.

  Slowly … slowly … they walked.

  The stairs continued at a gentle slope deep underground.

  Finally, Beth saw a wide square column in front of her. Patrick saw it too and walked ahead of her.

  They heard voices from outside.

  “The guards!” Patrick whispered.

  The cousins rushed into the darkness.

  10

  The Prince’s Tomb

  Beth heard Patrick stumble. Her throat tightened. It was all she could do not to scream too. She lowered the oil lamp. The light spread across the floor.

  “Patrick?” she whispered. “Are you okay?”

  “Help!” he gasped. Patrick was dangling by one arm from the edge of a hole.

  Beth put down the lamp and grabbed his wrist. She pulled hard.

  Patrick didn’t budge. He was too heavy.

  “I just need to get an elbow on the ledge. Then I can pull myself up,” Patrick said.

  She reached down again. Beth pulled with all her might. “Hnnggg!” she grunted. It felt as if her arms were going to tear off.

  Patrick was now up far enough. He hooked an elbow onto the top of the ledge. Then the other elbow. He scrambled to pull his body up.

  Beth collapsed backward. But at least Patrick was safe.

  Beth and Patrick breathed hard. Patrick gave Beth a quick “thank you” smile.

  Beth smiled back, but her heart was still pounding from the fright. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, she thought.

  Beth shifted position. Then she lowered the lamp toward the hole. She gasped.

  The hole was very deep. If Patrick had fallen in, he would have disappeared into the darkness.

  Patrick knelt next to her and whistled softly. He picked up a stone and dropped it. It fell for a few seconds before making a distant splash.

  “It’s a well,” Beth said. Her eye fell on a rope with a bucket tied to it.

  “I guess I should walk slower from now on,” Patrick said.

  The cousins stood up. They brushed themselves off and looked around.

  Just beyond the hole was a room with four giant pillars. Every wall had hieroglyphics on it. The outline of a door was cut into a wall.

  Patrick said, “Maybe this is the prince’s tomb.”

  Beth thumbed through her hieroglyphics book. “I don’t see any of the drawings for the vizier,” Beth said. “It’s probably someone else’s tomb.”

  “Let’s go that way,” Patrick said. He pointed to a distant hallway.

  They headed down a long passageway that twisted and turned. They reached an intersection.

  “Which way?” Patrick said. “Left or right?”

  “How am I supposed to know?” Beth asked. “Pick one.”

  Patrick led the way to the left. They rounded a corner and came to a solid wall. “It doesn’t go any farther,” Patrick said.

  “Why would a passageway lead to nothing but a wall?” Beth asked.

  “It’s like a maze,” Patrick said.

  “Maybe it is a maze,” Beth suggested.

  “To confuse grave robbers,” Patrick said.

  The cousins doubled back and searched the long hallways. Beth checked for clues. But none of the walls had the right pictures or symbols.

  Patrick and Beth descended deeper and deeper into the vault.

  “Stop,” Beth said suddenly. She held up the lamp. “There!”

  Patrick looked up. There was an oval with a bird and a kneeling man in it. But there was no man in the middle, like the other picture. Instead, there was a funny-looking tree.

  “This is it,” Beth said.

  “It’s close, but it’s not the same,” Patrick said. “We’ll have to keep looking.”

  “Wait,” Beth said. “Look at the clothes on the people on the wall. They aren’t Egyptian white tunics. They look like the Habiru’s clothes.”

  “If this is it, then there must be a panel around here,” Patrick said. “The Habiru man said it was low.”

  Patrick got down on his hands and knees.

  Patrick scooped away the sand. His fingers searched the wall for the edge of the panel.

  “I found it!” he said. He slid open the panel.

  Beth lowered the lamp so Patrick could get a better look. “What’s inside?” she asked.

  “A rope,” Patrick said.

  “Don’t pull it,” Beth said. “It could be a trap. Sand could come pouring out. Or a big stone block could fall on us.”

  “What are we supposed to do?” Patrick asked. “Wait here for the prince to open the door for us? I don’t think so.”

  He pulled the rope.

  Part of the wall in front of them opened a few inches. It was a door. Patrick pushed on it with his shoulder.

  “Help me,” he said. The cousins pushed on the door together. It opened slowly.

  They entered a chamber. Patrick took the lamp from Beth and held it up high. The chamber was full of furniture and vases, statues and urns.

  Beth’s mouth fell open at all the riches.

  “There!” Patrick said.

  A large wooden box was at the back of the room. It was covered with beautiful colors.

  “Wow!” Patrick said. “This is his coffin!”

  Beth looked it over carefully. “It’s not like the coffin of King Tut that I’ve seen in books,” she said.

  Patrick felt around the edges of the coffin. “There has to be a way to open it,” he said.

  Beth continued studying the colorful coffin. Then she took out her book and checked the hieroglyphics.

  “Can you help me with this, Beth?” Patrick asked. “The lid is stuck.”

  She didn’t hear him. She was deep in thought. Finally she said, “Look at the coat on the coffin.”

  Patrick stopped to look. “What about it?” he asked.

  “Remember the tree symbol? I think it’s supposed to be wheat,” Beth said.

  “What do you mean?” Patrick asked.

  “Do you remember the story from Sunday school? About the coat of many colors?” Beth asked.

  Patrick gazed at the coffin. “Sure,” he said. “That’s the story about Joseph.”

  Beth asked, “Do you remember what happened to Joseph?”

  “Yes,” Patrick said. “The Old Testament says he was thrown into a pit by his brothers. They sold him into slavery. Then he was thrown into jail in Egypt …” Patrick paused as if he were thinking about something important.

  “Then he became the second-in-command to Pharaoh,” Beth said. “He saved the country from famine. He had the Egyptians store grain for seven years.”

  “The prince who saved Egypt,” Patrick said.

  He stepped closer to the coffin and traced the symbols with his finger. “Why didn’t we figure it out before? He was the vizier of wheat.”

  Beth said, “This is the tomb of Joseph!”

  11

  The Prince’s Bones

  “Yes,” Patrick said. “It all makes sense. The Habiru are the Hebrews. God’s chosen people in the Old Testament.”

  Beth’s eyes lit up. “Joseph was a Hebrew. That’s why he gave special treatment to his people. That’s why they’ve been treated well for generations,” she said.

  “And that’s why Tabitha lived in that nice house,” Patrick said. “Because she was Joseph’s relative.”

  Beth suddenly remembered the story from the Bible. “This is the time leading up to Moses,” she said.

  “The Hebrews are just starting hundreds of years of slavery,” Patrick said. “They won’t be freed until Moses leads them to the Promised Land.”

  Patrick paused and then said, “Moses … Wait a minute!”

  Patrick reached into his tunic. He pulled out his Bible. He had forgotten to read the page with the bookmark.

  “Exodus 13:19,” he read. “Moses took the bones of Joseph with him because Joseph had made the Israelites swear an oath.”

  Patrick closed the Bib
le. “When Moses left Egypt, the Hebrews took the bones of Joseph with them,” Patrick said.

  Beth smiled. “So the Hebrews don’t have to worry about Joseph’s mummy,” she said. “It’ll be safe until Moses comes to get it.”

  “That’s right,” Patrick said. “God’s going to take care of everything.”

  Beth said, “That’s what we need to tell the Hebrews. Even though things are hard now, God is looking out for His people.”

  Patrick smiled and patted the coffin.

  “Does that mean we don’t have to take Joseph’s mummy?” Beth asked.

  “We can’t,” Patrick said. “It has to stay here for Moses. That’s a long time ahead.”

  They both breathed a sigh of relief.

  Beth led the way out of the tomb chamber.

  Suddenly, a light came toward them.

  “Stop!” said a man’s voice. “What are you doing here?”

  12

  The Maze

  “What should we do?” Beth asked Patrick.

  Patrick seemed frozen where he was.

  The big Egyptian came closer. The torch in his hand lit up his lined face.

  Suddenly Patrick called out, “This way!” Beth obeyed.

  Patrick ducked down a passageway.

  “Where are you going?” Beth asked, still running.

  “I’m good at mazes,” Patrick said. “I can get us out of here.”

  Beth hoped he was right.

  Patrick darted around corners. Beth followed. They stopped and listened. The passageway was perfectly quiet.

  Patrick looked at the lamp in Beth’s hand.

  “He’ll see the light,” Patrick said. “You have to put it out.”

  “Are you crazy?” Beth asked. “You want to run around this place in the dark?”

  “I remember the maze, Beth,” Patrick said. “Trust me.”

  Beth looked at the lamp. She said a small prayer asking God to help Patrick’s memory. Then she dropped the lamp on the ground. The flame went out.

  Beth couldn’t see Patrick. She couldn’t even see her hand in front of her face.

  “Hold on to my tunic,” Patrick said. “This way.”

  Beth could hear Patrick feeling the walls with his hands. He moved slowly.

  They could hear the guard moving around in another passageway. He shouted, “Surrender! I will find you!”

  Beth could tell that he was getting closer.

  The cousins walked more quickly, but they were still slow. They came to a corner and turned.

  “Beth, do you hear that?” Patrick asked.

  Beth listened carefully. It was a low moaning.

  “It’s the same sound we heard near the entrance,” Patrick said. “The stairs must be ahead. Watch out for the well.”

  “I have an idea,” Beth said. She bent down on her hands and knees. She crawled until she felt the well opening. She felt around till she found the bucket and rope. The rope was fastened to a metal ring in the floor.

  She picked up the bucket and lowered it into the water. Then she pulled the rope back up. She had a bucket full of water. It smelled of old earth.

  She untied the rope from the bucket. “Stay here,” Beth said to Patrick.

  Beth moved away from him. She stood at the edge of the hallway and waited.

  She peeked around the corner. She saw the light from the guard’s torch coming closer … closer.

  When the guard turned, she threw the water at him.

  Splash!

  The torch flame went out. The room went pitch-black. Beth heard the guard curse.

  She hurried back over to Patrick. “Sit over there,” she whispered. She huddled next to him.

  The guard stumbled around in the darkness. “Where are you?” he called out.

  The cousins sat quietly.

  The guard came closer. His footsteps echoed through the passageway.

  “I’m going to have your heads,” the guard said. His voice echoed in front and behind the cousins.

  Beth and Patrick barely breathed. The footsteps came closer.

  Beth coughed a little on purpose.

  The guard stopped in his tracks.

  Beth heard him turn and then head straight toward them.

  “Now I have you,” the guard said. “Aaahhh!”

  Sploosh! The guard fell into the well.

  Beth shouted, “Let’s go!”

  “Wait,” Patrick said. “We can’t leave him.”

  Patrick tied the rope tightly to the bucket again. “He can use this to climb out. The rope is tied to the ring in the floor.”

  Patrick threw the bucket into the well. A second later, they heard it hit something.

  “Ouch,” the guard shouted.

  “Come on, Beth,” Patrick said. “This way.”

  Beth put her hands on Patrick’s shoulder. The cousins hurried in the dark. They reached the stairs and made their way up.

  Soon Beth could see a light in the distance. They reached the entrance.

  The cousins paused to catch their breath. The doorway was only a few feet away.

  Suddenly the second guard stepped in front of them. “Stop,” the guard said.

  Patrick pointed inside the vault. “Quick!” he said. “Your friend fell down a well. He’s in trouble!”

  The guard paused. He seemed to be deciding if Patrick’s story was true.

  Just then the guard in the well shouted.

  The other guard made up his mind. He hurried into the passageway.

  Patrick and Beth stepped outside the vault into daylight. They headed toward the Hebrew camp.

  13

  The Tent

  “We went to Joseph’s tomb,” Patrick told Tabitha. “His bones are safe. And they’re going to stay that way.”

  “What?” Tabitha asked.

  Tabitha’s family gathered around the cousins inside the tent. “How do you know?” a Hebrew man asked.

  Patrick reached into his tunic and pulled out his Bible. “Look, I know it’s hard to understand, but this book is called a Bible. It’s the Word of God. It tells the story of your prince Joseph. And it tells how one day another great prince will rescue you from slavery. God will lead you out of Egypt.”

  Some of Tabitha’s family looked surprised.

  Others looked like they didn’t believe Patrick.

  Beth said, “Not today or tomorrow. But it will happen. You’ll have to trust God. Just like Joseph did.”

  Patrick held up the Bible again. He said, “The prince was sold into slavery and sent to jail. But God still remembered him. Never give up hope.”

  “It would be easier if we had the prince’s mummy here,” Tabitha said.

  “Your hope can’t be in a dead man’s driedup body,” Patrick said. “It has to be in God, who is alive.”

  “That’s what your great prince believed,” Beth added.

  Tabitha smiled. “You’re right,” she said. “God has always been faithful to us.”

  The old woman Miriam nodded. She said, “And we should remain faithful to Him.”

  Beth and Patrick smiled at Tabitha and her family.

  A man in the back raised an instrument. It was orange and looked like a very skinny guitar. He strummed it a few times.

  Then the Hebrew people began to sing a worship song to God: “Blessed are the people who trust in the Lord. O God, hear our prayers for safety and peace.”

  Beth and Patrick looked at each other. “I think our adventure is over,” Patrick said.

  As Tabitha’s family sang to God, Patrick and Beth quietly left the tent. Tabitha followed them out.

  “Are you leaving us?” Tabitha asked.

  Nearby, a whirring noise caught Beth’s attention. It was the Imagination Station. Patrick saw it. Tabitha didn’t seem to notice.

  “It’s time for us to go,” Patrick said.

  Tabitha hugged them both. Tears filled her eyes. “Thank you for reminding us of the truth,” she said.

  Patrick blushed. Beth beamed.<
br />
  A voice called from inside the tent. “Tabitha, Ammon is awake!”

  Tabitha’s face lit up. “I must go,” she said.

  Beth and Patrick climbed into the Imagination Station.

  They saw Tabitha waving good-bye.

  Then Beth pushed the red button.

  14

  Whit’s End

  “Well?” Whit asked as Patrick and Beth climbed out of the Imagination Station.

  Patrick said. “I was wrong to say that the slavery of the Hebrews is still like school.”

  “What about being teased for your faith?” Whit asked.

  Patrick shook his head. “It’s not as bad as the Hebrews had it.”

  “There was a more important lesson I hope you learned,” Whit said.

  The cousins looked at each other.

  Beth brightened with an idea. “I thought a lot about my faith in God,” she said.

  Patrick nodded. “We met the Hebrews when everything was about to go all wrong,” he said. “They were about to spend a long time in slavery. But God still wanted them to keep their hope in Him.”

  “We tried to help Tabitha and her family understand that,” Beth said.

  “You did,” Whit said. “Do you think you understand it better now?”

  Patrick and Beth thought about it for a moment.

  Patrick then said, “It’s easy for people to put their hope in the wrong thing when things go bad.”

  “Putting our hope in the right thing when times are bad is what counts, Beth said.”

  Whit smiled. “That’s something to think about when it comes to school and being teased.”

  Beth said, “God wants me to have hope in Him, not in what happens to me.”

  “That’s right,” Whit said.

  Patrick chuckled. “I wish school could teach us the way you do with these adventures.”

  “But these adventures can be hard work,” Whit said. “You two have had some tough experiences.”

  “Yeah, but that’s different,” Beth said.

  “Is it?” Whit asked. “Isn’t learning math or science or English an adventure too?”