The hieroglyphs In cartouches, which von Kerber
had admittedly tampered with, were beyond Royson's ken.
He was so taken up with this confirmation of his views, and so eager to
make clear the queer chance that led Abdur Kad'r to explain the name of
the Well of Moses, that he was blind to the growing wrath in Mr.
Fenshawe's face until he happened to catch the indignant note in the
older man's voice as he bade a servant summon the sheikh. Then a single
glance told him what he had done. The wounded vanity of the famous
Egyptologist had risen in its might, and swept aside all other
considerations. The man of wealth could permit his charitable instincts
to govern the scorn evoked by the Austrian's petty tactics, but the
outraged enthusiasm of the collector was a torrent that engulfed
charity and expediency alike in its flood. Nothing short of the most
painstaking personal examination of the oasis at the Well of Moses
would now convince the millionaire that von Kerber had not tricked him
at the eleventh hour.
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