“I guess we’ve got to. The lady upstairs don’t calculate to be trifled with, you see. But I’ve slept in many worse locations than this, for it’s clear that the last interment took place several hundreds of thousands of years back, so the deceased won’t interfere with our physical comfort; and if you see a ghost, just hurry up and tell me, and I’ll interview him for the ‘Crier.’ Suppose you fly around and fix things up for the night now. Our supper don’t need much cooking, unfortunately, but the water’s good, any way. You might put out two of those lamps, for it’s past sundown, and I’d as lief keep a light going all night. Guess we’ll fix up one of these pieces of tent-cloth to keep off the draught from that passage. I’m going to sit up with the boss, so I’m better without a bed.” “No,” said Mansfield, “I’m going to look after him.” “Young man,” said Mr Hicks firmly, “this is my funeral. Your turn will come to-morrow night, but as the distinguished sufferer’s medical attendant, I calculate to do my obvious duty to-night. The boss is taking a fine spell of rest just now, breathing natural, pulse regular, everything first-rate, but I must be on hand when he wakes up. Now don’t turn nasty, or I’ll sit up next night as well. I’m a peaceable man, but when I get riz, there’s likely to be unpleasantness.” Accepting the inevitable with the worst possible grace, Mansfield prepared the supper, assisted in hanging the curtain, and finally betook himself to his couch of hair cloth, where he muffled his head in his cloak in the way he had learnt from the Arabs, and was fast asleep in two minutes. He slept until late the next day, and was only awakened by the voices of Cyril and Mr Hicks, as they expressed their heartfelt admiration of his powers of slumber, and suggested exhibiting him to the Arabs as one of the Seven Sleepers. Cyril was in the wildest spirits. The fatigue of the journey seemed to have altogether passed away, and Mr Hicks’s account of the lady at the gateway and her ungracious behaviour had filled him with delight. Mr Hicks, on the contrary, was more silent than usual, and offered presently to show Mansfield a rock-cut swimming-bath, supplied with water from the reservoir of which the Arabs had spoken, which he had discovered while exploring one of the passages branching from the cave. After a few moments’ silence, as they groped their way between the rocky walls, he turned suddenly. “Mr Mansfield, do I look like a man that would see ghosts?” “No, I should say not,” replied Mansfield, holding up the lamp to scrutinise his companion’s features; “but you look as if you had seen one now,” he added maliciously.