baka and Bes, and enter," said the
tremendous voice from within.

So we entered and saw a strange sight. Against the back wall of the
chapel which was lit with lamps, stood a life-sized statue of Maat,
goddess of Law and Truth, fashioned of alabaster. On her head was a tall
feather, her hair was covered with a wig, on her neck lay a collar of
blue stones; on her arms and wrists were bracelets of gold. A tight robe
draped her body. In her right hand that hung down by her side, she held
the looped Cross of Life, and in her left which was advanced, a long,
lotus-headed sceptre, while her painted eyes stared fixedly at the
darkness. Crouched upon the ground, at the feet of the statue, scribe
fashion, sat my great-uncle Tanofir, a very aged man with sightless
eyes and long hands, so thin that one might see through them against the
lamp-flame. His head was shaven, his beard was long and white; white too
was his robe. In front of him was a low altar, on which stood a shallow
silver vessel filled with pure water, and on either side of it a burning
lamp.

We knelt down before him, or rather I knelt, for Bes threw himself flat
upon his face.

"Am I the King of kings whom you have so lately visited, that you should
prostrate yourselves before me?" said Tanofir in his great voice, which,
coming from so frail and aged a man seemed most unnatural. "Or is it
to the goddess of Truth beyond that you bow yourselves? If so, that is
well, since one, if not both of you, greatly needs her pardon and her
help. Or is it to the sleeping god beyond who holds the whole world on
his horns? Or is it to the darkness of this hallowed place which causes
you to remember the nearness of the awaiting tomb?"

"Nay, my Uncle," I said, "we would greet you, no more, who are so worthy
of our veneration, seeing we believe, both of us, that you saved us
yonder in the East, from that tomb of which you speak, or rather from
the jaws of lions or a cruel death by torments."

"Perchance I did, I or the gods of which I am the instrument. At least I
remember that I sent you certain messages in answer to a prayer for help
that reached me, here in my darkness. For know that since we parted I
have gone quite blind so that I must use this maiden's eyes to read what
is written in yonder divining-cup. Well, it makes the darkness of this
sepulchre easier to bear and prepares me for my own. 'Tis full a hundred
and twenty years since first I looked upon the light, and now