“The wine for the final draught, you”--indicating John Cumberland--“will pour into the cup onto the powder at the last moment--when she opens her eyes. I consider the wine to be the most doubtful item. It’s Madeira wine, over a hundred and fifty years old, but I’m not sure of it all the same.” “That contained in the flagon found here was undoubtedly a similar vintage,” Professor Blackwell said. “It was a grape wine. My microscope has convinced me of this.” “We can only hope you’re right,” said Danbazzar. “And now--the most important point of all. The sarcophagus I’ve had lifted out onto a sloping trestle. The implements for raising the lid are ready. The couch, described in the formula, is still serviceable, if we take great care. Directly the lid is off, she must be taken out of the sarcophagus and laid on the couch. I’ll do it. From that moment on, no one must speak! No one must make a sound! Just do your jobs. And, for God’s sake, don’t bungle!” He held the curtain aside, and the party filed into the tomb. It presented a picture that time could never efface from the minds of those who saw it. Dimly lighted by an ancient lamp set upon a pedestal, the air was misty with clouds of incense arising from a tripod placed on the right of the doorway. The lotus sarcophagus rested, slanting, near to the great granite box which had contained it for generations. Upon a low table were two bowls containing some kind of ointment; a metal perfume burner; a jewelled cup in which was some gray, powdery substance; a stoppered flagon; and a curiously shaped lamp. The table was set close to the head of a long, narrow, gilded couch, having legs carved to represent those of an animal, and found in the tomb. Six other lamps were placed at intervals around the walls. Danbazzar pointed to a bundle of tapers. They were made of some inflammable resinous substance. “The moment I lift her out,” he directed, “light those tapers at the brazier. The wrappings I look to find perished, and I shall set to work right away. Say all you want to say before I get the lid off. I shall work fast, even if I do damage. Once the thing is open--not a word from anybody.” He stooped over the sarcophagus, with its startling presentment of the occupant. His shadow, gigantic, moved upon painted walls and ceiling. A sound of wrenching, cracking wood broke the oppressive silence.… Barry clenched his teeth hard. He glanced at his father. Even through the tan one could see that John Cumberland had grown pale. Professor Blackwell’s gaunt features glistened with perspiration. Barry wondered--as though newly faced with the problem--what he should do if the sarcophagus really proved to contain a woman! A sudden unaccountable conviction had come to him that it was empty. The heat in the tomb seemed to be growing greater every moment.…