Should it be necessary to open the tomb, the glass could be made to slide along the supports and descend by the sloping planks.
Naturally curious to know what might be within such a strange receptacle, I raised the lantern, depressing its lens so that the light might fall within.
Then I started back with a cry, the lantern slipping from my nerveless hand and falling with a ringing sound on the great sheet of thick glass.
Within, pillowed on soft cushions, and covered with a mantle woven of white natural fleece sprigged with tiny sprays of pine wrought in gold, lay the body of a woman--none other than my beautiful visitor.

She was marble white, and her long black eyelashes lay on her white cheeks as though she slept.
Without a word or a sound, save the sounds made by my hurrying feet on the stone flooring, I fled up the steep steps, and through the dim expanse of the church, out into the bright sunlight.

I found that I had mechanically raised the fallen lamp, and had taken it with me in my flight.
My feet naturally turned towards home.

It was all instinctive.

The new horror had--for the time, at any rate--drowned my mind in its mystery, deeper than the deepest depths of thought or imagination..