should I conduct him thither?" Denviers drew from his finger a ring set with a brilliant which he wore, and holding it out towards the fakir, responded:—
"The reason why you should do so is there, for by the begging gourd which is upon the floor I judge that you are poor. Take this and lead us to the Arab." The eyes of the fanatic gazed with cupidity upon the gem. Taking it with an eager clutch he said:—
"Feringhee as thou art, I accept what thou offerest. What threats could not accomplish has been won with a bribe!" The fakir's tone jarred upon my ears, and I felt that his promise was an insincere one. I uttered a few words of caution to Denviers expressive of my distrust just as the fakir stooped and raised with apparent ease a block of stone from those which formed the floor of the hovel, and, pointing downwards, said in a reluctant tone, as if repenting of his bargain:—
"Dare ye venture?"
"The twisted ladder of palm-shoots which ye see, reaches from here to the bottom of a passage leading to the place ye seek. Dare ye, with all your bravery, venture thither?" We looked shudderingly down the yawning, gloomy gulf, and saw a faint light, which came from the passage far below. Denviers turned to me and said quietly:—
"We must risk it for the sake of Hassan." Then turning to the fakir he added, sternly: "Go down first, we will then follow you; betray us if you dare." Denviers waited until our fierce guide had descended, then clung to the ladder, and with a few encouraging words, bade me follow. Slowly and cautiously we descended, the frail ladder oscillating violently with us in the pitchy darkness. Occasionally we stopped, and endeavoured with our eyes to pierce the gloom, fearing lest the fakir had evolved some treacherous scheme in order to entrap us. At last we reached the bottom, and found ourselves at what was the end of a rocky passage, which had been roughly hewn out and sloped upwards. Into this the light from outside was stealing from the distant entrance. The fakir cast a strange, inquiring glance at us as we joined him in this subterraneous place, but beyond muttering something incoherently to himself, did not volunteer any remark until we had traversed the entire passage. Emerging into daylight once more, we stopped suddenly, and gazed in bewilderment at the scene before us.
Towering in the distance rose the ruins of a vast temple, resting above a rock which seemed to have been partly excavated into the form of arches. In the central niche was a huge representation in stone similar to the idol which we had seen that day dragged through the streets, while on either side of it was carved a great throng of worshippers adoring it. The rock in the background was deeply cut to present the appearance of the side of a street, while many strange emblems were shown thereon. Below were the remains of a ruined village, the miserably small hovels contrasting forcibly with the grandeur and boldness of the wonderful carvings above. How many centuries had passed since the place was inhabited it seemed impossible for us to surmise. The ground was thickly covered with a junglelike grass, and I noticed that part of it seemed to have been recently beaten down. I pointed this fact out to my companion, who responded:—
"Very likely that
