If Apollo had been still banished upon earth, of course Phaëthon could have found him very easily. But the nine years of banishment were over now, and the only way to find the god of the Sun was to seek him in his palace above the sky. How Phaëthon managed to get there I have never heard; but I suppose his mother was able to tell him the secret way. You may imagine the glorious and wonderful place it was--the House of the Sun, with the stars for the windows that are lighted up at night, and the clouds for curtains, and the blue sky for a garden, and the Zodiac for a carriage-drive. The sun itself, as you have heard, is the chariot of Apollo, drawn by four horses of white fire, who feed on golden grain, and are driven by the god himself round and round the world. Phaëthon entered boldly, as his mother had told him, found Apollo in all his glory, and said:-- "My mother, Clymene, says that I am your son. Is it true?" "Certainly," said Apollo, "it is true." "Then give me a sign," said Phaëthon, "that all may know and believe. Make me sure that I am your son." "Tell them that _I_ say so," said Apollo. "There--don't hinder me any more. My horses are harnessed: it is time for the sun to rise." "No," said Phaëthon, "they will only say that I brag and lie. Give me a sign for all the world to see--a sign that only a father would give to his own child." "Very well," said Apollo, who was getting impatient at being so hindered. "Only tell me what you want me to do, and it shall be done." "You swear it--by Styx?" said Phaëthon. Now you must know that the Styx was a river in Hades by which the gods swore; and that an oath "by Styx" was as binding upon a god as a plain promise is upon a gentleman. "I swear it--by Styx!" said Apollo, rather rashly, as you will see. But he was now in a very great hurry indeed. "Then," said Phaëthon, "let _me_ drive the horses of the Sun for one whole day!" * * * * * This put Apollo in terrible alarm, for he knew very well that no hand, not even a god's, can drive the horses of the Sun but his own. But he had sworn by Styx--the oath that cannot be broken. All he could do was to keep the world waiting for sunrise while he showed Phaëthon how to hold the reins and the whip, and pointed out what course to take, and warned him of the dangers of the road. "But it's all of no use. You'll never do it," said he. "Give it up, while there is yet time! You know not what you do." "Oh, but I do, though," said Phaëthon. "I know I can. There--I understand it all now, without another word." So saying, he sprang into the chariot, seized the reins, and gave the four fiery horses four lashes that sent them flying like comets through the air. "Hold them in--hold them hard!" cried Apollo. But Phaëthon was off, and too far off to hear. * * * * *