loggias cooled by the rising and falling spray of myriad
fountains--did he not dimly recognize all these things? He thought
so, yet was not sure,--for he had arrived at a pass when he could
neither rely on his reason nor his memory. Naught of deeper
humiliation could he have than this, to feel within himself that
he was still AN INTELLECTUAL, THINKING, SENTIENT HUMAN BEING, and
that yet at the same time, his INTELLIGENCE COULD DO NOTHING TO
EXTRICATE HIM from the terrific mystery which had engulfed him
like a huge flood, and wherein he was now tossed to and fro as
helplessly as a floating straw.

On, still on he went, treading closely in Sah-luma's footsteps and
wistfully noting how often the myrtle-garlanded head of his friend
drooped caressingly toward Lysia's dusky perfumed locks, whence
those jewelled serpents' fangs darted flashingly upward like light
from darkness. On, still on, till at last he found himself in a
grand vestibule, built entirely of sparkling red granite. Here
were ten sphinxes, so huge in form that a dozen men might have
lounged at ease on each one of their enormous paws; they were
ranged in rows of five on each side, and their coldly meditative
eyes appeared to dwell steadfastly on the polished face of a large
black Disc placed conspicuously on a pedestal in the exact centre
of the pavement. Strange letters shone from time to time on this
ebony tablet, . . letters that seemed to be written in quicksilver;
they glittered for a second, then ran off like phosphorescent
drops of water, and again reappeared, but the same signs were
never repeated twice over. All were different, . . all were rapid in
their coming and going as flashes of lightning. Lysia, approaching
the Disc, turned it slightly; at her touch it revolved like a
flying wheel, and for a brief space was literally covered with