A cheap alarum clock, set for fifteen minutes ahead of the Professor’s watch with Mahmoud, stood only six inches from the sleeper’s head! “The scientific mind,” murmured John Cumberland--“always methodical. Good-night, Barry. I’m for bed.” “Good-night,” said Barry. Five minutes later he was fast asleep. No dreams visited him to-night. He slept the sleep of utter weariness. A gunshot would not have awakened him. And the sun was high above the valleys where those who ruled Egypt in the golden past slept even more soundly than he, when a booming voice ended his slumbers. “Turn out!” Barry opened his eyes. Danbazzar stood looking into the tent. This extraordinary man, from his leonine head with its well-brushed gray hair down to his polished riding boots, was spruce as though the dust of deserts positively avoided him. “We open the sarcophagus in an hour!” CHAPTER XX. THE RITUAL Barry looked around the square, rock-hewn chamber communicating with the tomb, and wondered why he felt no inclination to laugh. Had Jim Sakers formed one of the party, his mood might have been different; but, in the company of his father, Danbazzar, and Professor Blackwell, he found himself touched by awe. They wore robes, sandals, and curious linen skullcaps which entirely concealed their hair. Danbazzar, so arrayed, presented an impressive picture. He did not look like an Egyptian priest, but he might have been a Pharaoh disguised as one, except for his moustache. The others, save for their deeply tanned skin, could by no stretch of the imagination have been mistaken for anything but American citizens masquerading. Professor Blackwell, oddly enough, was more convincing than the rest. Without his spectacles, although he could see little, he had a distinctly hieratic appearance. Hassan es-Sugra was not present. With Mahmoud he mounted guard in the valley, above. A richly embroidered curtain hung in the now demolished doorway of the tomb chamber. The heat was almost insupportable; and the smell of some kind of incense which was burning on the other side of the curtain added to the oppressiveness of the atmosphere. This was _Kyphi_, mentioned in the “Papyrus Ebers,” and, according to Danbazzar, only twice hitherto prepared in modern times. Danbazzar gave his final instructions. “To the best of my knowledge,” he said, “everything is ready. One essential oil--you know the one I mean, Professor--has changed colour since I had it distilled. I can only hope that its special properties, whatever they are, remain the same.” “It has no special properties that I am aware of,” the Professor murmured. “We shall see,” the deep voice went on. “The seven lamps are ready to be lighted. You know when to light them and which lamps each of you must light. The last one, I light. The two unguents are in the bowls. You”--turning his piercing regard upon Barry--“will put the taper to the liquid in the perfume burner when I give the signal.