"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 234 - Temple of Crime" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

smoothly as they had opened.
She noticed, too, that there were gaps in the front wall, at the top, just below the roof. They were narrow
apertures, no more than a foot square, through which the moonlight trickled and formed patches on the
floor of the atrium. Those were the spaces through which the light of dawn would come.

Then, Margo was looking straight ahead again. They were through the atrium and into an inner room,
called the cella. This was the heart of the temple, and the procession halted, its members spreading to
form a double-ranked semicircle, which Monak joined.

Straight ahead was a stone pedestal, its front covered with curious hieroglyphs, and upon the pedestal sat
the throned statue of Ammon, carved from stone, of slightly more than human size. But the carved head
of Ammon was something other than human. It was the head of a ram, adorned with horns.

The torch bearers set their flaming brands in stone brackets on the tiled wall. The light did not reach the
statue directly, for it sat in a domed niche called the apsis. Rather, the moonlight, carrying through from
those distant apertures in the outer room, revealed the figure of Ammon to the full.

The ram's eyes were staring straight into the moonlight, as though watching for the dawn to replace the
silvery glow. One of the statue's hands was resting on an arm of the stone throne; the other, half raised,
clutched a long staff made of bronze. The staff was topped with a small ram's head, and the base was
poised a foot above the pedestal which held the throned statue.

Glancing around the cella, Margo saw that the walls bore sculptured figures of other Egyptian deities, all
about life-size. They were in bas-relief, and formed a grotesque assortment, for they had the heads of
birds and animals, and one even resembled a crocodile. She noticed, too, that each corner contained a
great stone brazier, where fires could be kindled.

These, however, were not in use. Monak had foregone all other rites upon this first visit to the temple. He
and the cult were concentrated upon one thing only. They had come to hear the voice of Ammon greet
the dawn.

The time was very close. Already, the feeble moonlight was fading. Only the torches illuminated the
scene. Looking at the faces nearest her, Margo saw that they were tense, for they belonged to women
members of the cult. She saw one man's face among them, and recognized its owner.

He was Hugh Calbot, a man past middle age. Formerly secretary to old Uriah Keldon, Calbot had
arranged the final sale of the temple to Amru Monak, and for some reason had become interested
enough in the Ammon Cult to join it.

But Calbot was still a skeptic. His thin, drying face wore a smirk which indicated plainly that he
considered the present ceremony to be clap-trap. Still, Calbot was making a pretense of belief. When
Monak spoke, calling upon his followers to draw closer to the statue, Calbot edged forward near the
leader.

Other robed men were forming the front rank, for the women were more timid. Perhaps the thing that
awed them was the trickle of dawn that began to illuminate the ram's head of Ammon, actually changing
the expression of its stony eyes from a brooding look to one of triumph. The light was feeble, for the day
was cloudy, but Amru Monak was pleased by the glow.

"We are here, great Ammon!" he exclaimed. "We await your word, for the hour is at hand! Let us hear