Dr. Dean drew a long breath of wonderment.

“Astonishing, if true!”

The Princess smiled somewhat disdainfully, and went on: 

“Saurid’s work was carried on after his death by his successors, and with thousands of slaves toiling night and day the Pyramids were in the course of years raised above the caverns which concealed Egypt’s mysteries.  Everything was gradually accumulated in these underground store-houses,—­the engraved talismans, the slabs of stone on which were deeply carved the geometrical and astronomical sciences; indestructible glass chests containing papyri, on which were written the various discoveries made in beneficial drugs, swift poisons, and other medicines.  And among these many things were thirty great jars full of precious stones, some of which were marvels of the earth.  They are there still!  And some of the great men who died were interred in these caves, every one in a separate chamber inlaid with gold and gems, and I think,” here the Princess turned her dark eyes full on Dr. Dean, “I think that if you knew the secret way of lifting the apparently immovable floor, which is like the solid ground, and descending through the winding galleries beneath, it is more than probable you would find in the Great Pyramid the tomb of Araxes!”

Her eyes glistened strangely in the evening light with that peculiar fiery glow which had made Dr. Dean once describe them as being like the eyes of a vampire-bat, and there was something curiously impressive in her gesture as she once more pointed to the towering structure which loomed against the heavens, with one star flashing immediately above it.  A sudden involuntary shudder shook Gervase as with icy cold; he moved restlessly, and presently remarked: 

“Well, it is a safe tomb, at any rate!  Whoever Araxes was, he stands little chance of being exhumed if he lies two floors below the Great Pyramid in a sealed-up rocky cavern!  Princess, you look like an inspired prophetess!—­so much talk of ancient and musty times makes me feel uncanny, and I will, with your permission, have a smoke with Dr. Dean in the garden to steady my nerves.  The mere notion of thirty vases of unclaimed precious stones hidden down yonder is enough to upset any man’s equanimity!”

“The papyri would interest me more than the jewels,” said Dr. Dean.  “What do you say, Denzil?”

Denzil Murray woke up suddenly from a fit of abstraction.

“Oh, I don’t know anything about it,” he answered.  “I never was very much interested in those old times,—­they seem to me all myth.  I could never link past, present and future together as some people can; they are to me all separate things.  The past is done with,—­the present is our own to enjoy or to detest, and the future no man can look into.”

“Ah, Denzil, you are young, and reflection has not been very hard at work in that headstrong brain of yours,” said Dr. Dean with an indulgent smile, “otherwise you would see that past, present and future are one and indissoluble.  The past is as much a part of your present identity as the present, and the future, too, lies in you in embryo.  The mystery of one man’s life contains all mysteries, and if we could only understand it from its very beginning we should find out the cause of all things, and the ultimate intention of creation.”