Sheshà pointed to the Pyramids. “That and many other monuments are the history books—the great tombs, and all the palaces and temples and columns still standing after thousands of years. On them are written the story of the land. Behold, it is being written before your eyes, since by what you call _magic_ you are watching the work of men who laboured four thousand years before Christ.” “But how can those funny pictures and signs they are cutting be _writing_?” asked Rachel, watching a man who was graving strange marks on the granite blocks. “Such was the writing of the ancient Egyptians,” replied Sheshà, “called in later days _hieroglyphics, or secret_ writing, because, as ages passed, the meaning of the writing was forgotten, and men gazed at these strange signs and wondered what they meant, and what secrets were hidden from them by a language which no one could read.” “And did they _ever_ find out the secret?” asked Rachel, eagerly. “Can anyone nowadays read what is written on stones like these?” “Yes. The secret has at last been discovered. For thousands of years it was hidden, but at last, in modern days, almost within the life-time of some old men and women still on this earth, the mystery was revealed by means of a magic stone.” “I know!” cried Rachel excitedly. “That was the piece of marble I was looking at when I met you in the British Museum—was it a minute ago, or ages?” she went on, looking puzzled. “It all seems like a dream, somehow. But I remember Miss Moore, saying ‘This is the Rosetta Stone’—and I didn’t know what she meant. And then _you_ said, ‘_That stone is a gate into the Past_,’ and I didn’t know what you meant, either!” Again Sheshà smiled gravely as he looked down at her.