"So, oh Holly. This people was an old people before the Egyptians
were. A little can I read of their inscriptions, having found the key
thereto--and see, thou here, this was one of the last of the caves that
they hollowed," and, turning to the rock behind her, she motioned the
mutes to hold up the lamps. Carven over the daïs was the figure of an
old man seated in a chair, with an ivory rod in his hand. It struck me
at once that his features were exceedingly like those of the man who was
represented as being embalmed in the chamber where we took our meals.
Beneath the chair, which, by the way, was shaped exactly like the one
in which Ayesha had sat to give judgment, was a short inscription in the
extraordinary characters of which I have already spoke, but which I do
not remember sufficient of to illustrate. It looked more like Chinese
writing than any other that I am acquainted with. This inscription
Ayesha proceeded, with some difficulty and hesitation, to read aloud and
translate. It ran as follows:--

"In the year four thousand two hundred and fifty-nine from the founding
of the City of imperial Kôr was this cave (or burial place) completed
by Tisno, King of Kôr, the people thereof and their slaves having
laboured thereat for three generations, to be a tomb for their citizens
of rank who shall come after. May the blessings of the heaven above the
heaven rest upon their work, and make the sleep of Tisno, the mighty
monarch, the likeness of whose features is graven above, a sound and
happy sleep till the day of awakening,[*] and also the sleep of his
servants, and of those of his race who, rising up after him, shall yet
lay their heads as low."

[*] This phrase is remarkable, as seeming to indicate a
belief in a future state.--Editor.