and crept up from the wilderness below and down from the fir woods
above.

I had crossed the terrace and the lawn, and now stood looking through
the open French window from which light had proceeded into a room that
evidently adjoined the hall. A great still darkness had come, and on a
littered table in this room a reading-lamp was burning.

The room was furnished as a library. Every available foot of wall
space was occupied by laden bookcases. The volumes were nearly all old
and many of them were in strange, evidently foreign, bindings. Items
of chemical apparatus and cases of specimens were visible also as well
as an amazing collection of Egyptian relics strewn about the place in
the utmost disorder.

At the table a man was seated, deep in study of a huge leather-bound
volume. He was strangely gaunt, and apparently very tall. His
clean-shaven face resembled that of Anubis, the hawk-headed god of
Ancient Egypt, and his hair, which was growing white, he wore long and
brushed back from his bony brow. His skin was of a dull, even yellow
color, and his long thin brown hands betrayed to me the fact that the
man was a Eurasian. The crunching of a piece of gravel under foot
revealed my presence. The man looked up swiftly.

I started. Those widely-opened black eyes were truly hawk-like in
their dark intensity of gaze, and the uncanny resemblance to Anubis
was heightened by them. More than ever convinced that I had made a
mistake:

"Forgive me for so rudely disturbing you," I said, "but I was under