Bitterly disappointed, Unis stooped to pick up his flickering lamp. As he did so his eyes fell upon a gleaming object which was almost hidden in the sand at his feet. Mechanically he picked it up and glanced at the blue and green inlays. The _tat_-emblem and solar-disc upon its gold base showed it to be the scarab-ring of Amenhotep, son of Hap. From that date, Unis spent all the daylight hours among the tombs of the Theban cemetery. He systematically covered every foot of the hill-side, entering both the ancient tombs, and the modern, as far as he was allowed. At night he delved among the ancient scrolls of the library of Amen. Each night upon his return he had been met by the impatient Enana. Every night, week in, week out, he had perforce to shake his head, to spread his scratched and often bleeding hands deprecatingly. Of late Unis’ step had lost its elasticity. An unnatural brightness glistened in his sunken eyes. To-night, especially, Enana’s mind had been filled with anxiety for his safety. Unis should have rounded the point by the tamarisk grove hours ago. Enana’s anxiety was not for Unis. His one thought was of the Book. The Book he must have, if he would put his present plans into effect. Had the young priest but known it, he was the third person sacrificed by Enana, the Magician, to the finding of the Book. As Enana turned to enter the low doorway of the tomb in which Unis had recently taken up his quarters, an unusual light in the valley below caught his attention. He paused. At the foot of the steep incline, at the upper reaches of which he stood, moved an unnatural pinkish flame. It seemed to palpitate, to wax and wane as it moved, for move it did. Nearer, ever nearer, it came, constantly growing larger and brighter, until suddenly by its light Enana recognized the pallid face of Unis, his assistant. As Unis came towards him the overjoyed Enana noticed that his long thin arms were held straight out before him, that there, upon his upturned palms lay—the Luminous Book! It needed no word of Unis to tell him what it was. The light that glowed about its pure white leather cover proved it the Book of Books. The overjoyed Magician advanced toward the young priest, but suddenly halted, as he caught the horrible expression which distorted the latter’s livid face. It was as if Unis was being compelled against his will to hold the Book. Unis’ eyes were open, but they did not seem to see. His feet carried him along, whither he seemed not to care. Foam flecked his blackened lips; beads of perspiration stood out upon his forehead. Gazing straight before him, slowly Unis advanced. Hesitating for a bare second at the threshold of the doorway—one might have supposed that he was unfamiliar with it—he slowly entered the chamber, set the Book carefully down upon a cedar table near the upper wall, turned and left as silently as he had entered.