number with the priestesses upon the left.

"By God!" repeated Dr. Cairn, "we were both wrong, we were both
wrong!"

"What do you mean, sir? for Heaven's sake, what do you mean?"

"This drawing," replied Dr. Cairn, "was copied from the wall of a
certain tomb--now reclosed. Since we knew that the tomb was that of
one of the greatest wizards who ever lived in Egypt, we knew also that
the inscription had some magical significance. We knew that the
flowers represented here, were a species of the extinct sacred Lotus.
All our researches did not avail us to discover for what purpose or by
what means these flowers were cultivated. Nor could we determine the
meaning of the cutting off,"--he ran his fingers over the sketch--"of
the priestesses' hair by the high priest of the goddess--"

"What goddess, sir?"

"A goddess, Rob, of which Egyptology knows nothing!--a mystical
religion the existence of which has been vaguely suspected by a living
French _savant_ ... but this is no time--"

Dr. Cairn closed the manuscript, replaced it and relocked the drawer.
He glanced at the clock.

"A quarter past one," he said. "Come, Rob!"

Without hesitation, his son followed him from the house. The car was
waiting, and shortly they were speeding through the deserted streets,
back to the house where death in a strange guise was beckoning to Myra
Duquesne. As the car started--

"Do you know," asked Dr. Cairn, "if Saunderson has bought any
orchids--_quite_ recently, I mean?"

"Yes," replied his son dully; "he bought a small parcel only a
fortnight ago."

"A fortnight!" cried Dr. Cairn excitedly--"you are sure of that? You
mean that the purchase was made since Ferrara--"

"Ceased to visit the house? Yes. Why!--it must have been the very day
after!"

Dr. Cairn clearly was labouring under tremendous excitement.

"Where did he buy these orchids?" he asked, evenly.

"From someone who came to the house--someone he had never dealt with
before."

The doctor, his hands resting upon his knees, was rapidly drumming
with his fingers.

"And--did he cultivate them?"

"Two only proved successful. One is on the point of blooming--if it is
not blooming already. He calls it the 'Mystery.'"

At that, the doctor's excitement overcame him. Suddenly leaning out of
the window, he shouted to the chauffeur:

"Quicker! Quicker! Never mind risks. Keep on top speed!"

"What is it, sir?" cried his son. "Heavens! what is it?"

"Did you say that it