The danger once realised, candles were discarded, and electric light led into the tomb. And then the explorers began to realise the full wonder of their discovery. The tomb was full of furniture of the finest and most careful workmanship. Armchairs carved and inlaid, coffers of wood inlaid and enamelled with that wonderful blue of which the Egyptians had the secret, boxes of painted wood, with figures in gilt gesso, designed to hold the canopic jars which contain the viscera of the dead, ushabti figures, some of them plated with gold or silver, wicker-work baskets for holding perfume bottles, couches of elegant design, a perfectly preserved specimen of the type of light chariot in which the Theban noble of the Empire took his airing, cushions stuffed with down, still soft and resilient after three millenniums, costly alabaster vases, toilet articles of all sorts, and a plentiful supply of the mummified meats which the dead might require for their journey through the Underworld; the chamber was a storehouse of all that the Egyptian deemed desirable for his use in this life or the next. Nor were the needs of the spirit neglected. There stood the magical figures by whose help the occupants of the tomb were to make their way through the dark paths of the Duat, inscribed with the “Chapter of the Flame,” or the “Chapter of the Magical Figure of the North Wall”; while a great roll of papyrus 22 yards long contained other prayers which would assist the sleepers to conquer all the dangers of their long road. Never had such an assemblage of beautiful and curious things rewarded the seeker even in this land of beautiful and curious things.