Eros thanked Ginnistan with thousand fold rapture. He embraced her tenderly, and she returned his caresses. Wearied by the fatigues of the journey, and by the manifold objects he had seen, he longed for quiet and rest. Ginnistan, who felt deeply attracted by the beautiful youth, took good care not to mention the draught which Sophia had given him. She led him to a retired bath, and removed his armor. Eros dipped himself in the dangerous waves, and came out again in rapture. Ginnistan chafed dry his strong limbs knit with youthful vigor. He thought with ardent longing of his beloved, and embraced the charming Ginnistan in sweet delusion. He surrendered himself carelessly to his tenderness, and fell asleep on the fair bosom of his guide. In the mean time a sad change had taken place at home. The scribe had involved the domestics in a dangerous conspiracy. His fiendish mind had long sought occasion to obtain possession of the government of the house, and to shake off his yoke. Such an occasion he had found. His party first seized the mother and put her in irons. The father also was deprived of everything but bread and water. The little Fable heard the noise in the chamber. She hid herself behind the altar; and observing that there was a concealed door on its farther side, she opened it quickly, and discovered a staircase leading from it. She closed the door behind her, and descended the stairs in the dark. The scribe rushed furiously into the chamber, in order to revenge himself on the little Fable, and to take Sophia captive. Neither of them was to be found. The bowl was also missing, and in his wrath he broke the altar into a thousand pieces, without, however, discovering the secret staircase. Fable continued to descend for a considerable time. At length she reached an open space adorned with splendid colonnades, and closed by a great door. All objects there were dark. The air was like one immense shadow; and a darkly beaming body stood in the sky. One could easily distinguish objects, because each figure exhibited a peculiar shade of black, and cast behind a pale glimmer; light and shade seemed to have changed their respective offices. Fable rejoiced to find herself in a new world. She regarded everything with childish curiosity. At length she reached the door, before which upon a massive pedestal reclined a beautiful Sphinx. "What dost thou seek?" said the Sphinx. "My possession," replied Fable. "Whence comest thou hither?" "From olden times." "Thou art yet a child." "And will be a child forever." "Who wilt assist thee?" "I will assist myself. Where are my sisters?" asked Fable. "Everywhere, and yet nowhere," answered the Sphinx. "Dost thou know me?" "Not as yet." "Where is Love?" "In the imagination." "And Sophia?" The Sphinx murmured inaudibly to itself, and rustled its wings.