Sweat-grimed workmen crowded the outer chamber.… No inscription of any kind appeared upon the sides or lid of the great granite sarcophagus, but the walls were very beautifully painted. The atmosphere was so oppressive as to be almost insupportable. There was something awesome in this sudden silence which had succeeded upon clamour. Danbazzar was the first to break it. “The name of Princess Zalithea,” he said, his deep voice oddly hushed, “occurs, as you can see, in several places.” He directed the ray of his torch from point to point. “Much of the decorations--such as the procession of boats, the Sem-priest in his mystic trance, the funeral offerings, and so forth--are quite conventional in character. You will notice, though, that the Lotus constantly occurs, as well as the Ankh, emblem of eternal life.” He shone the light all around. “There are other important points, too,” he mused, “which we can look into later. Be very careful. Touch nothing.” Barry, wholly absorbed in his own peculiar reflections, was passing around the sarcophagus; feeling its surface with his fingers; peering into the tiny crevices between the lid and the lip. Meanwhile, Danbazzar and John Cumberland were bending almost reverently over a strangely shaped, squat table on which were salvers, bowls, curious-looking phials, and a number of tall, slender lamps. “Observe,” said Danbazzar, a note of triumph in his deep voice: “_these_ are not the usual funerary offerings!” Professor Blackwell’s long bony fingers were extended toward one of the phials, but: “No, no! Blackwell!” cried John Cumberland excitedly. “Don’t touch it! Touch nothing! It may crumble!” The Professor withdrew his greedy hand reluctantly. “And I wonder what that casket contains?” he murmured. The casket to which he referred, an exquisitely carved object, stood by itself upon a sort of pedestal, some little distance from the table and beside a long, low couch, the legs carved to represent the feet of a leopard. Danbazzar almost imperiously waved him to silence. Then, turning his back to the sarcophagus, the table, and the pedestal, he addressed them as a speaker addresses an audience. “The casket, gentlemen,” he said, “as well as the bowls and bottles, contains the ingredients mentioned in the formula! I have seen enough already to tell me my preparations are complete. Presently, Professor”--he turned to Professor Blackwell--“maybe you can assist me in checking these; but the task of preserving many of the fragments is going to be a delicate one. We mustn’t forget they’re three thousand years old.” “It is almost more than I can believe!” declared John Cumberland rapturously. Barry, one hand resting upon the sarcophagus, faced him, and: “Dad,” he said, “it’s _altogether_ more than _I_ can believe!”