fragments of
stone torn from the depths of the chain, which had been excavated by the
persevering workmen of vanished generations, and the chisel of the
Troglodyte labourers who had prepared in the shadow the eternal
dwelling-places of the dead. The broken entrails of the mountain had
produced other mountains, friable heaps of small rocks which might have
been mistaken for the natural range.

On the sides of the cliffs showed here and there small openings
surrounded with blocks of stone thrown in disorder: square holes flanked
by pillars covered with hieroglyphs, the lintels of which bore
mysterious cartouches on which could yet be made out in a great yellow
disc the sacred scarabaeus, the ram-headed sun, and the goddesses Isis
and Nephthys standing or kneeling.

These were the tombs of the ancient kings of Thebes. Argyropoulos did
not stop there, but led the travellers up a sort of steep slope, which
at first glance seemed nothing but a break on the side of the mountain,
choked in many places by fallen masses of rock, until they reached a
narrow platform, a sort of cornice projecting over the vertical cliff on
which the rocks, apparently thrown together by chance, nevertheless
exhibited on close examination some symmetrical arrangement.

When the nobleman, who was a practised athlete, and the doctor, who was
much less agile, had succeeded in climbing up to him, Argyropoulos
pointed with his stick to a huge stone and said with triumphant
satisfaction, "There is the spot!"

He clapped his hands in Oriental fashion, and straightway from the
fissures of the rocks, from the folds of the valley, hastened up pale,
ragged fellahs, who bore in their bronze-coloured arms crow-bars,
pick-axes, hammers, ladders, and all necessary tools. They escaladed the
steep slope like a legion of black ants; those who could not find room
on the narrow ledge on which already stood the Greek, Lord Evandale, and
Dr. Rumphius, hung by their hands and steadied themselves with their
feet against the projections in the rock. The Greek signed to three of
the most robust, who placed their crow-bars under the edges of the
boulder. Their muscles stood out upon their thin arms, and they pressed
with their whole weight on the end of the levers. At last the boulder
moved, tottered for a moment like a drunken man, and, urged by the
united efforts of Argyropoulos, Lord Evandale, Rumphius, and a few Arabs
who had succeeded in climbing the ledge, bounded d