Explore "Pharos, the Egyptian" by Guy Boothby on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
In describing what occurred after the curious admonition addressed to me by the old man who had conducted me to the subterranean chamber mentioned in the last chapter, I am oppressed by the fear that my narrative may seem too extraordinary to carry with it any semblance of reality. The whole affair, from the moment when we left the steamer until I stood where I now was, had been so mysterious, so unbelievable, I might almost say, that I had passed from stage to stage of bewilderment, scarcely conscious of anything but what was occurring at the moment. In a vague fashion I wondered how it was that these rooms had never been discovered by the hundreds of Egyptologists who, since the time of Napoleon, had explored the temple. That it had not been so brought to light I felt convinced, otherwise the necessity would scarcely have existed for such secrecy as had been shown when I was conducted to it.
Besides, I had studied my guide-books carefully on our voyage up the river, and was quite convinced that no mention of such places had been made in any one of them.