My reveries were interrupted by our arrival at the gates of the city. We passed beneath a high arch almost Roman in style, with marble base and facade ornamented with strange blue sea-shells; then, proceeding along a winding cement walk inlaid with mother-of-pearl, we approached the most stately palace of all. In architecture, it was totally dissimilar to anything we had ever before observed: although perhaps five hundred feet in length, it was as much like a great statue as like a building; it had none of those features common in edifices for the shelter of man and his works, but seemed to have been erected exclusively as a piece of art. Its form was that of a woman, a woman reclining at full length, her breast to the ground, her head slightly elevated, propped meditatively upon her palm; and the structure as a whole had been planned with such subtlety and skill, with such consummate attention to every detail of the woman’s position, form and garments and to the beatific and yet lifelike expression of the face, that Rawson and I could only pause in bewildered silence and stare and stare as though this work had been created through no human agency but by some superhuman master hand. In that first spellbound moment, it did not occur to us that there might be an entrance to the palace. But at length, where a lock of the woman’s dark, sculptured hair fell across her breast, we noted a little doorway so skilfully concealed that it had originally escaped our attention. Since the gate swung wide upon the hinges, curiosity, of course, prompted us to glance within--and with results that proved but a further spur to curiosity. All that we could see was a pale, golden glitter against a background of black; but imagination supplied that which our physical sight could not reveal, and we had visions of gorgeous halls and corridors which we longed to inspect. * * * * * Had our courage been sufficient, we would have entered at once. The idea, in fact, came to both of us simultaneously, but at first neither of us could summon up the requisite boldness. There seemed to be something mysteriously, almost irresistibly, attractive about that twinkling darkness, something that held us fascinated and forbade us to leave; and for several minutes we stood hesitating, and straining our eyes, yet making no motion to invade the unknown. Then, when the suspense had become so protracted as to be ridiculous, Rawson surprised me by exclaiming, suddenly, “I’m not afraid!” And at the same time he slapped his sides energetically as though to prove to himself that he had no fears. “I’m going right in!” he announced, with what I thought to be unnecessary loudness. And, feeling for his revolver with a hand that trembled perceptibly, Rawson strode resolutely into the building.