thin, I suppose. Anyhow, it went all to bits with the first blow of the chisel.” “Well? go on, do!” said Humphreys impatiently. “Oh! you want to know what we found in it, of course. Well, it was half full of stuff like ashes.” “Ashes? What did you make of them?” “I haven’t thoroughly examined them yet; there’s hardly been time: but Cooper’s made up his mind—I dare say from something I said—that it’s -a case of cremation. . . . Now don’t excite yourself, my good sir: yes, I must allow I think he’s probably right.”
The maze is gone, and Lady Wardrop has
forgiven Humphreys; in fact, I believe he
married her niece. She was right, too, in her
conjecture that the stones in the temple were
numbered. There had been a numeral painted
on the bottom of each. Some few of these
had rubbed off, but enough remained to enable
Humphreys to reconstruct the inscription. It
ran thus:—
