“Howard, please! I implore you on this occasion to relax your personal code and fall into line with the protocol of conventional international diplomacy. For me – for all of us who have held the highest respect for the good performance of your office over these many past years – please! Just a gesture.” Carter’s doggedness was frustrating Maspero to the point of anger.
“Monsieur, with respect, you were not there. They were nothing more than spoiled hoodlums. Should I do as you ask of me I would undermine the respect and due diligence of my poor employees, with whom I must continue to work, and from whom I expect only the best quality of work. Worse, I would endorse the French louts’ behaviour. These…” He faltered on the word, and after a short pause almost spat it out, “…tourists will not be back. I have no doubt of that. It is they who should swallow their pride and take a lesson from the affair. I wish only for justice – and then to forget it ever happened.”
“If you insist on taking this position it will not end here, Howard. They will not forget the affair. It is already highly visible in the halls of the British and French Consulates in Cairo. It is – yes – a trivial matter, now blown out of all proportion…”
Maspero hardly got the last part of his statement out before Carter snapped back at him, now so incensed that he had no thought for his friend’s efforts, nor his feelings.
“Trivial? Trivial? How can you trivialise this event? These Frenchmen represent the worst kind of vandal – the careless rich. They dishonour the Egyptians. They defile the Egyptians’ heritage. They trivialise the monuments with their drunkenness. They have no interest in this place. To them it’s just another playground… I will have none of it. My last word, monsieur. Positively my last word.”
There was silence. Maspero sat staring incredulously into Carter’s stern eyes. He knew the man well. Carter had taken his position. He had dug himself in. There would be no going back. ‘He is deadly serious,’ thought Maspero. ‘Quite, quite determined.’
“I must take my leave,” said Carter at last. “I am falling behind in my work. Au revoir, monsieur.” He picked up his hat and strutted rapidly out the door.
Maspero, exasperated and exhausted, had no further words for him anyway.
Some days later Carter received a letter from his old patron, Theodore Davis. The millionaire had heard of the affair and, being well versed in the bigotry of the rich and famous, felt compelled to counsel his old colleague. It was, unusually for Davis, a sensitively written missive, exploring the facts of the affair, laying out the options and proffering advice on the steps that Carter should now take. In addition, it addressed the hitherto unthinkable – leaving the Service.
This was all too much for Carter. He needed time to relax and think. He decided to contact Maspero the following morning and request leave. He was back in England within the month.
An excerpt from Tutankhamun Uncovered, by Michael J. Marfleet.
Copyright 2009-2010 Michael J. Marfleet. All rights reserved.
Published by Apex Publishing Ltd.
