"My husband was in charge of
the Red Sea cable at that time, and Signor Giuseppe Alfieri was a
friend of ours. An Arab named Abdullah El Jaridiah, grubbing among old
tombs for curios, came across a roll of papyri. He sold it to Alfieri
for a few francs, and Alfieri gave it to my husband."
She paused; she was not a woman who said too much.
"I take it that Alfieri knew no Greek?" said Mr. Fenshawe, with a touch
of irony that was not lost on the lady.
"He certainly failed to appreciate its importance," was the quiet
response. "My husband deciphered most of the narrative, but he, in his
turn, had no knowledge of hieroglyphics, and, as you are aware, many of
the words and figures are contained in ovals, or cartouches, and
written in Egyptian characters. He would have learnt their meaning from
some other source, but he--died--very suddenly. An accident caused
Alfieri to suspect the value of the papyrus, and he asked me to return
it. Unfortunately, I led him to believe that I would meet his wish, but
Baron von Kerber, who, as you know, was medical officer to a German
mission to King Menelek, came to my assistance at the time, and I told
him of my husband's views with regard to the portion he had translated.
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