He had written down the words engraved upon the bracelet, and now he read them again. “I am Shun, the son of the great mechanic, Shoo Shun, upon whom the door fell when the Emperor passed. This my father told me before the day, fearing the treachery of the Eunuchs. “Behold the pelican on the left wall with the bronze neck. Afterwards the spirit steps, afterwards rivers of silver, afterwards door of bronze. Here Emperor… behind a great room filled with most precious treasures.” “I guess he’s a little wrong in the bronze door part of it,” said Tillizinni. “It’s possible that there were two sets of disloyal mechanics planning to secure the Emperor’s treasure, and made provisions for entering and retiring at the proper moment.” That afternoon his men left singly and in two’s and three’s, making for the rendezvous, and when night fell, Tillizinni and Talham, both men heavily armed, rode out into the dark streets, and the door of the compound closed behind them. They had left twenty-three men under a trusted old officer who had been with Talham in the Northern wars, and the remainder of the party were picked up beyond the city walls. They rode along the mud track which led to Mount Li. It was eleven o’clock before they debouched from the road and picked a way across the rough, uncultivated land which sloped up to the Emperor’s tomb. The party dismounted at the foot of the hill and took shelter in a little gully, and six men only accompanied the two Europeans in their climb. These carried spades and picks, a spare one each for Talham and Tillizinni, and the eight men attacked the soft earth with feverish haste. It was easier work than even Talham had anticipated, and after an hour’s work Tillizinni’s spade struck something hard and metalled. “It’s the door,” he said exultantly. He cleared away a space and examined his find with the aid of a pocket lamp. Here the hill fell sheerly, and it was at the foot of a sharp slope that the top of the door was discovered. Although the hill fell steeply there seemed to be no place from whence a door might slide down in its grooves to block the entrance of the cave. This was the only doubt that had been in Talham’s mind, but the explanation suddenly occurred to him. “I see now,” he said excitedly. “It opens inward on hinges at the top.” This probably was the case. They continued digging for half an hour before they reached the foot of the bronze door. Contrary to his expectations, there was no engraving upon the panel. It was of solid bronze, green with age. The men scraped carefully away at its foot, and then Talham on one side and Tillizinni on the other, groped for the image between the two stones. It was a long time before Talham discovered his, but Tillizinni’s was soon revealed. It had deteriorated until it was little more than the thickness of a curtain ring.