After the heat of the day the coolness of the night was most refreshing. Overhead the stars shone brilliantly, while from the desert a little lonely wind came up and sighed for the desolation of the place. Nothing could have been in better keeping with the impressiveness of the occasion. One thing, however, puzzled me, for so far I had seen nothing of the chief, and indeed the only reason of the expedition--namely, the mummy of the dead Magician. I questioned Pharos on the subject, who answered briefly that it had been sent on ahead to await our coming at the tomb, and having given this explanation lapsed into silence. It must have been upward of half an hour later when the tall Arab, who had all the way walked in front of the camel upon which Pharos was seated, stopped and held up his hand. The animals immediately came to a standstill. Peering into the darkness ahead, I found that we were standing before a gigantic building which towered into the starlight. This proved to be the main pylon of the great Temple of Ammon, the most stupendous example of human architecture ever erected on the surface of our globe. On either side of the open space upon which we stood, rows of kriosphinxes showed where a noble road had once led from the temple to the river. At a signal from Pharos the man who had boarded the steamer that afternoon left us and entered the building, leaving us outside. Fully five minutes must have elapsed before he returned. When he did so he said something to Pharos in a low voice, who immediately descended from his camel and signed to me to do the same. Then we, in our turn, approached the gigantic pylon, at the entrance of which we were met by a man carrying a lighted torch. Viewed by this dim and uncertain light the place appeared indescribably mysterious. Overhead the walls towered up and up until I lost sight of them in the darkness. Presently we entered a large court--so large indeed that even with the assistance of the guide's torch we could not see the farther end of it. Then passing through a doorway formed of enormous blocks of stone, the architrave of which could scarcely have been less than a hundred feet from the ground, we found ourselves standing in yet another and even greater hall. Here we paused, while Pharos went forward into the darkness alone, leaving me in the charge of the tall Arab and the man who carried the torch. Where he had gone, and his reason for thus leaving me, I could not imagine, and my common sense told me it would only be waste of time on my part to inquire. Minutes went by until perhaps half an hour had elapsed, and still he did not return. I was about to make some remark upon this, when I noticed that the man holding the torch, who had hitherto been leaning against a pillar, suddenly drew himself up and looked toward another side of the great hall. I followed the direction of his eyes and saw an old man approaching me. He was clad in white from head to foot, and with