Tillizinni looked at it closely. It had been shaped crudely by these old dishonest artisans, and even now its extemporised character was revealed in the imperfection of the circle. “Got it!” he heard Talham grunt. “Does it give at all?” “Yes,” said the other, “but, gently! It is any odds on the connection being rotten with age.” “Now!” said Tillizinni. “Are you ready? Now!” He put a gentle strain upon the ring, and it gave, ever so little. He was afraid to put his full strength upon it for fear it broke away in his hand. “Again,” said Talham’s voice. Tillizinni pulled gently. Suddenly, without a warning, there was a horrible squeak, which it seemed could be heard for miles, and the great door sunk as if the earth had swallowed it up, and the big black entrance of the cave was revealed. From here on, they must depend upon their own exertions. The Chinamen declined civilly enough to assist any further. So far they had acted in accordance with their tenets. Beyond that they might not go. Talham understood and dismissed them, telling them to wait at the bottom of the hill. He flashed an electric torch about the entrance of the cave. It was a large spacious place carved out of a solid rock. At intervals around its grim walls were placed huge statues in fantastic shapes, extending from the dim roof to its polished floor. Talham looked at them without awe. He felt something about his feet, and flashed the light down. He was treading on a little heap of bones. Further examination revealed a dozen more such pitiful relics of the long-dead artisans who had perished that they might not reveal the secret of the Emperor’s tomb. For two thousand years they had laid thus, through all the centuries pregnant with progress and with world-shaking events; as they had fallen in death so they remained. Talham was a curious mixture of the sentimental and the practical. The practical side of him brushed the relics aside with his foot as he walked forward sending the gleam of his light flashing up to the roof. Yes, there were the two silver lamps; they were black under the tarnish, but the delicacy of the workmanship was apparent. Reaching up his hand, Talham could just clutch the dangle tassel beneath the first lamp. “Watch that entrance,” he said, and put his lamp upon the black door at the further end of the vault. He pulled and a chain gave slowly. Then, with a swift rush, the door before him opened in the middle and parted. As it did, from the interior of the inner chamber came a loud crash, something whizzed between the two men, passed through the opening where the bronze door had been, and buried itself in the hillside without. “Phew!” said Talham, “that crossbow did work after all.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “I trust nothing else unpleasant happens,” he said. He looked round for the pelican which had been referred to on the bracelet, but could see no sign of any such ornament.