The steps leading down into the inner room were clean and smooth. They were of white marble, save in the centre was what appeared to be a carpet. On closer inspection this proved to be “treads” of jade, two feet wide and exactly in the centre of the stairway. “Those are the spirit steps,” said Talham. “You had better keep to them.” “What are spirit steps?” asked Tillizinni in astonishment. “It’s an old Chinese idea, and you’ll find it in a good many temples,” replied Talham briefly. “It is popularly supposed to be the steps up and down which the spirits of the departed pass to their devotions, and is never under any circumstances used by mortals.” “For a moment,” he said with a facetiousness which seemed to Tillizinni to be entirely out of place, “we will regard ourselves as disembodied and keep to the spirit steps.” He walked down gingerly. Half way to the bottom were two little niches on which stood carved representations of two of the earlier Chinese deities. He stopped and looked at them thoughtfully. Then, leaning over, he lifted one down. It was a tremendous weight, and he staggered under it, but Talham was curious to see the result of his experiment. He placed the statue upon one of the white marble steps which ran down at either side of him. For a moment nothing happened, and then the stairs opened under it and it disappeared. In a second came the tinkle of smashing steel. “I thought so,” said Talham. “If we had departed from the spirit steps, we should have fallen into a most unpleasant mess.” He watched the yawning hole where the steps had been. Three had disappeared. In a few seconds they came slowly back and jarred themselves back into their place. “They are balanced on an arm below,” explained Tillizinni. “I saw something of that sort in Burma years ago.” He led the way down, and so they came to the inner chamber. “Look!” gasped Talham, and well might he be astonished, for as they put their foot upon the lower stairs the whole of the inner chamber was flooded with soft light. It came from the cornices in the roof and was reflected down from the glittering blue firmament of an artificial heaven. “It’s electric!” said Talham in a whisper. “I never dreamt of this.” Whilst they stood upon the steps the light continued. When they took a step forward it went out. They returned to the lower step and the room was again illuminated. “It was from this step, you may be sure, that the Second Emperor took his last view of his father,” said Tillizinni. “There is your river.” They looked down in silent wonderment. There at their feet was China--China as it was known to the ancients, with little townships cunningly modelled, and the ever-moving river flowed from hill to sea. So it had been flowing for two thousand years. “Stand on the step,” said Talham, “and let me see.” He stepped down quickly and leant over one of the tiny streams that wandered tortuously through an artificial garden.