ABSTRACT
M ORE than a quarter-century has passed since Carter'strembling hand pushed its way through the brokenwall and his candle shone on treasures which had lain in sealed darkness for three thousand years. The sensational headlines which greeted the discovery now lie in the yellowing files of newspaper offices. The wild press surmises, the wrangles of scholars, the argument and controversy are almost forgotten. There has been another and greater war, and if such another discovery were made to-day it is doubtful if our anxious world would be as stirred as it was in 1922. Yet the story remains, for those who care to read it, one of the greatest romances of the twentieth century. Carter's pages, and those of his colleagues, still have power to quicken our hearts.
