to the stone floors, and Ryder was busy with the drifts that had
lodged in the crevices about the entrance to the shaft.

It was really an important find. Although much plundered, the walls
were intact, and the delicate carvings in the white limestone walls
were exceptional examples. And there were some very interesting
things to decipher. A scholar and an explorer could well be
enthusiastic.

But Ryder continued to look far from enthusiastic. Even when his
groping fingers, searching a cranny, came in contact with a hard
substance his face did not change to any lightning radiance.
Unexpectantly he picked up the sand-encrusted lump and brushed it
off. A gleam of gold shone in his hand. But it was no ancient amulet
or necklace or breast guard--nor was it any bit of the harness of
the plundering Persians. It was a locket, very heavily and ornately
carved.

He stood a moment staring down at the thing with a curious feeling
of having stood staring down at exactly the same thing before--that
subconscious feeling of the repetition of events which supports the
theories of reincarnationists--and then, quite suddenly, memory came
to his aid.

In McLean's office. That day of the masquerade. Those visiting
Frenchmen and that locket they had shown him. Of course the thing
reminded him--

And it was remarkably alike. The same thick oval, the same ponderous
effect of the coat of arms--if it should prove the same coat of arms