Naville recounted his recent experiences with Carter. The stories did much to endorse those Maspero had heard from other respected sources – Petrie for one – and his own more piecemeal observations. It all helped to confirm his earlier intention to seriously consider Carter for one of the two senior regional posts.
“He is a young man yet, but displays a maturity of approach that belies his years. His art is exemplary,” continued Naville. “I have seen the like only in his brother’s work, but sadly he did not stay. Madame Naville agrees.”
“Hmm. Then I, too, must agree, monsieur,” Maspero observed with some conviction. “His youth gives him the considerable energy he will need to cover the territory he will oversee. And he exhibits a tolerance for the heat which permits him to continue working when all but the Arab labourers have retired to the shade. In many ways the Service will realise much value for their money.”
“His Arabic, also, is now fluent, Monsieur le Directeur. And he has matured a special relationship with the reis’s and their gangs. They return him some considerable respect – also in the conscientiousness of their work, and their particular abilities to pick out small artefacts within the spoil of excavation is quite remarkable. All of this they owe to his instruction.”
Maspero reflected for a moment and took another sip of coffee. Wiping his moustache with his forefinger in a sawing motion, he said, “I have but one concern, monsieur – how he may endure his relationships with the many visitors and licensees. I daresay these relationships will not be as symbiotic. I fear he suffers their company as a necessary evil. He certainly does not welcome it. When dealing with the layman visitor there is irritation in his voice – I have witnessed it – and he exhibits much impatience when interrupted in the course of his work. In his personality I see precious little bent towards pragmatism.”
Naville chuckled. “You are so very correct, Monsieur le Directeur,” he said. “He suffers the company of contemporaries poorly – and fools not at all.”
“But,” rejoined Maspero with a smile, “no one is perfect, eh, Monsieur Naville?”
Naville laughed, “And he gets on with Madame Naville very well!”
“An unquestionably sound endorsement, Monsieur!” commented Maspero. “So, given a choice between stubborn discipline and loose pragmatism, I would choose the former every time. This job is too important for the conciliatory.” He made an extravagant arching gesture with his arm. “To ‘Inspector Carter’, monsieur!” And the brandy bottle appeared from under Maspero’s desk. The two used it well, long into the night.
An excerpt from Tutankhamun Uncovered, by Michael J. Marfleet.
Copyright 2009-2010 Michael J. Marfleet. All rights reserved.
Published by Apex Publishing Ltd.
