and made his way into the bower, he did not at first discern
the half-hidden cavity. But soon he felt a cold stream of air
rushing out of it, with so much force that it shook the
ringlets on his cheek. Pulling away the shrubbery which
clustered over the hole, he bent forward, and spoke in a
distinct but reverential tone, as if addressing some unseen
personage inside of the mountain.

"Sacred oracle of Delphi," said he, "whither shall I go next in
quest of my dear sister Europa?"

There was at first a deep silence, and then a rushing sound, or
a noise like a long sigh, proceeding out of the interior of the
earth. This cavity, you must know, was looked upon as a sort of
fountain of truth, which sometimes gushed out in audible words;
although, for the most part, these words were such a riddle
that they might just as well have staid at the bottom of the
hole. But Cadmus was more fortunate than many others who went
to Delphi in search of truth. By and by, the rushing noise
began to sound like articulate language. It repeated, over and
over again, the following sentence, which, after all, was so
like the vague whistle of a blast of air, that Cadmus really
did not quite know whether it meant anything or not:

"Seek her no more! Seek her no more! Seek her no more!"

"What, then, shall I do?" asked Cadmus.

For, ever since he was a child, you know, it had been the great
object of his life to find his sister. From the very hour that