"A dancer at the court of Queen Amenartes;" he announced for the benefit of several interested spectators who with myself, stood round the sarcophagus--"Who because of her many sins, and secret guilt which made her life unbearable, and her days full of corruption, died of poison administered by her own hand, according to the King's command, and in presence of the executioners of law. Such is the lady's story,--condensed;--there are a good many other details of course. She appears to have been only in her twentieth year. Well!" and he smiled as he looked round upon his little audience,--"We may congratulate ourselves on having progressed since the days of these over-strict ancient Egyptians! The sins of dancers are not, with us, taken _au grand serieux_! Shall we see what she is like?" No objection was raised by the authorities concerned in the discoveries,--and I, who had never witnessed the unrolling of a mummy before, watched the process with great interest and curiosity. As one by one of the scented wrappings were removed, a long tress of nut-brown hair became visible,--then, those who were engaged in the task, used more extreme and delicate precaution, Lucio himself assisting them to uncover the face. As this was done, a kind of sick horror stole over me,--brown and stiff as parchment though the features were, their contour was recognisable,--and when the whole countenance was exposed to view I could almost have shrieked aloud the name of '_Sibyl!_' For it was like her!--dreadfully like!--and as the faint, half-aromatic half-putrid odours of the unrolled cerements crept towards me on the air, I reeled back giddily and covered my eyes. Irresistibly I was reminded of the subtle French perfume exhaled from Sibyl's garments when I found her dead,--that, and this sickly effluvia were similar! A man standing near me saw me swerve as though about to fall, and caught me on his arm. "The sun is too strong for you I fear?" he said kindly--"This climate does not suit everybody." I forced a smile and murmured something about a passing touch of vertigo,--then, recovering myself I gazed fearfully at Lucio, who was studying the mummy attentively with a curious smile. Presently stooping over the coffin he took out of it a piece of finely wrought gold in the shape of a medallion. "This, I imagine must be the fair dancer's portrait,"--he said, holding it up to the view of all the eager and exclaiming spectators--"Quite a treasure-trove! An admirable piece of ancient workmanship, besides being the picture of a very lovely woman. Do you not think so, Geoffrey?" He handed me the medallion,--and I examined it with deadly and fascinated interest,--the face was exquisitely beautiful,--but assuredly it was the face of Sibyl! I never remember how I lived through the rest of that day. At night, as soon as I had an opportunity of speaking to Rimânez alone, I asked him ... "Did you see,----did you not recognize? ..."