balmed their dead, as did the Egyptians,
but their art was greater than the art of the Egyptians, for, whereas
the Egyptians disembowelled and drew the brain, the people of Kor
injected fluid into the veins, and thus reached every part. But stay,
thou shalt see," and she halted at haphazard at one of the little
doorways opening out of the passage along which we were walking, and
motioned to the mutes to light us in. We entered into a small chamber
similar to the one in which I had slept at our first stopping-place,
only instead of one there were two stone benches or beds in it. On the
benches lay figures covered with yellow linen,[*] on which a fine and
impalpable dust had gathered in the course of ages, but nothing like to
the extent that one would have anticipated, for in these deep-hewn caves
there is no material to turn to dust. About the bodies on the stone
shelves and floor of the tomb were many painted vases, but I saw very
few ornaments or weapons in any of the vaults.

[*] All the linen that the Amahagger wore was taken from the
tombs, which accounted for its yellow hue. It was well
washed, however, and properly rebleached, it acquired its
former snowy whiteness, and was the softest and best linen I
ever saw.--L. H. H.

"Uplift the cloths, oh Holly," said Ayesha, but when I put out my hand
to do so I drew it back again. It seemed like sacrilege, and, to speak
the truth, I was awed by the dread solemnity of the place, and of the
presences before us. Then, with a little laugh at my fears, she drew
them herself, only to discover other and yet finer cloths lying over the
forms upon the stone bench. These also she withdrew, and then for the
first time for thousands upon thousands of years did living eyes look upon
the face of that chilly dead. It was a woman; she might have been
thirty-five years of age, or perhaps a little less, and had certainly
been beautiful. Even now her calm clear-cut features, marked out with
delicate eyebrows and long eyelashes which threw little lines of the
shadow of the lamplight upon the ivory face, were wonderfully beautiful.
There, robed in white, down which her blue-black hair was streaming, she
slept her last long sleep, and on her arm, its face pressed against her
breast, there lay a little babe. So sweet was the sight, although so
awful, that--I confess it without shame--I could scarcely withhold my
tears. It took me back across the dim gulf of ages to som