Nor was it a pleasant journey, for, if the masters of the situation above had made any mistake, I should have been dashed to pieces.  Also, the bats continually flew into my face and clung to my hair, and I have a great dislike of bats.  At last, after some minutes of jerking and dangling, I found myself standing in a narrow passage by the side of the worthy Ali, covered with bats and perspiration, and with the skin rubbed off my knees and knuckles.  Then another man came down, hand over hand like a sailor, and as the rest were told to stop above we were ready to go on.  Ali went first with his candle—­of course we each had a candle—­leading the way down a long passage about five feet high.  At length the passage widened out, and we were in the tomb-chamber:  I think the hottest and most silent place that I ever entered.  It was simply stifling.  This chamber is a square room cut in the rock and totally devoid of paintings or sculpture.  I held up the candles and looked round.  About the place were strewn the coffin lids and the mummied remains of the two bodies that the Arabs had previously violated.  The paintings on the former were, I noticed, of great beauty, though, having no knowledge of hieroglyphics, I could not decipher them.  Beads and spicy wrappings lay around the remains, which, I saw, were those of a man and a woman.[+] The head had been broken off the body of the man.  I took it up and looked at it.  It had been closely shaved—­after death, I should say, from the general indications—­and the features were disfigured with gold leaf.  But notwithstanding this, and the shrinkage of the flesh, I think the face was one of the most imposing and beautiful that I ever saw.  It was that of a very old man, and his dead countenance still wore so calm and solemn, indeed, so awful a look, that I grew quite superstitious (though as you know, I am pretty well accustomed to dead people), and put the head down in a hurry.  There were still some wrappings left upon the face of the second body, and I did not remove them; but she must have been a fine large woman in her day.

     [*] This, I take it, is a portrait of Amenemhat himself.—­
     Editor.

     [+] Doubtless Amenemhat and his wife.—­Editor.

“‘There the other mummy,’ said Ali, pointing to a large and solid case that seemed to have been carelessly thrown down in a corner, for it was lying on its side.

“I went up to it and carefully examined it.  It was well made, but of perfectly plain cedar-wood—­not an inscription, not a solitary God on it.

“‘Never see one like him before,’ said Ali.  ’Bury great hurry, he no “mafish,” no “fineesh.”  Throw him down here on side.’

“I looked at the plain case till at last my interest was thoroughly aroused.  I was so shocked by the sight of the scattered dust of the departed that I had made up my mind not to touch the remaining coffin—­but now my curiosity overcame me, and we set to work.