his interest and knowledge. "He was Amosis, a king of the eighteenth
dynasty, and Nefruari's husband. A big, powerful man!"

"What a bully cigarette brand he'd make!" thought Simpkins, and aloud
he added:

"They must have been a fine-looking pair."

"Indeed, yes," was the earnest answer, and so they moved about the hall,
she explaining, he listening and questioning, until at last they stood
before the black altar in the west and the veil of velvet. Simpkins saw
that there was an inscription carved in the basalt, and, drawing nearer,
slowly spelled out:


TIBI
VNA QVE
ES OMNIA
DEA ISIS


"And what's behind the curtain?" he began, turning toward Mrs.
Athelstone.

"The truth, of course. But remember," and her tone was half serious,
"none but an adept may look behind the veil and live."

"The truth is my long suit," returned Simpkins mendaciously. "So I'll
take a chance." As he spoke, the heavy velvet fell aside and disclosed
a statue of a woman carved in black marble. It stood on a pedestal of