a wall of loose stones.  In the top right-hand corner a small hole, large enough to admit a man, had been made in ancient times, and through this we could look down into a dark passage.  As it was too late in the day to enter at once, we postponed that exciting experience until the morrow, and some police were sent for to guard the entrance during the night.  I had slept the previous night over the mouth, and there was now no possibility of leaving the place for several more nights, so a rough camp was formed on the spot.

Here I settled myself down for the long watch, and speculated on the events of the next morning, when Mr Davis and one or two well-known Egyptologists were to come to the valley to open the sepulchre.  Presently, in the silent darkness, a slight noise was heard on the hillside, and immediately the challenge of the sentry rang out.  This was answered by a distant call, and after some moments of alertness on our part we observed two figures approaching us.  These, to my surprise, proved to be a well-known American artist and his wife,[1] who had obviously come on the expectation that trouble was ahead; but though in this they were certainly destined to suffer disappointment, still, out of respect for the absolute unconcern of both visitors, it may be mentioned that the mouth of a lonely tomb already said by native rumour to contain incalculable wealth is not perhaps the safest place in the world.  Here, then, on a level patch of rock we three lay down and slept fitfully until the dawn.  Soon after breakfast the wall at the mouth of the tomb was pulled down, and the party passed into the low passage which sloped down to the burial chamber.  At the bottom of this passage there was a second wall blocking the way; but when a few layers had been taken off the top we were able to climb, one by one, into the chamber.

    [Footnote 1:  Mr and Mrs Joseph Lindon Smith.]

[Illustration:  PL.  XVII.  Excavating the Osireion at Abydos.  A chain of
                         boys handing up baskets of sand to the
                         surface.]

[Photo by the Author.

Imagine entering a town house which had been closed for the summer:  imagine the stuffy room, the stiff, silent appearance of the furniture, the feeling that some ghostly occupants of the vacant chairs have just been disturbed, the desire to throw open the windows to let life into room once more.  That was perhaps the first sensation as we stood, really dumfounded, and stared around at the relics of the life of over three thousand years ago, all of which were as new almost as when they graced the palace of Prince Yuaa.  Three arm-chairs were perhaps the first objects to attract the attention:  beautiful carved wooden chairs, decorated with gold.  Belonging to one of these was a pillow made of down and covered with linen.  It was so perfectly preserved that one might have sat upon it or tossed it from this chair to that without doing it injury.  Here were