She gave him a curious look; then, moving her head, proceeded with an instant change of tone, "Well, what is the secret of the smile of the Sphinx?" A wave of emotion swept over him. He smiled and arose. "With the details of my enquiry I will not trouble you. Suffice it to say that for nearly forty years I have been searching." "So long as that?" "Many hard early days I spent in the desert and endured great privations." "Indeed? I am sorry. Forget them." "I would not if I could--they were the price of knowledge. At one time I came near losing my wits." "So? I am sorry." "Then I spent some years interrogating the wisest of earth." "Oh?" "But met with no answer." "Ah." "Then I spent further years in acquiring money--years of misery they were and years of degradation--that I might discover the secret. I was ruined. I repeat, I was ruined." "Pardon me. Yes, you were ruined. I am sorry." "I served as a soldier. I received wounds. I was captive. I was beaten. I escaped. I rose to power. I exploited all modes of living and fulfilling myself, but my experiments brought me no nearer the secret." "No nearer...." "Then I set forth on a dreary journey to renew my memory of the Sphinx's face. I sat down beside her. For a long time I learned nothing--the smile seemed hardly less mysterious than it had ever been. Then--but you are not listening...." "My friend, I am indeed; you were on a dreary journey and----" "At length one day a youth--but I will not burden you with that, though it was strange...." "Why do you look so at me? I am listening." "That night I learned the secret of the Sphinx." "At last!" "I learned it indeed." "Yes. Well, what is it?" "A difficult matter. You must listen most carefully, so subtle is its sense; yet in its comprehension lies hid the whole secret of man's possible happiness." "I am listening." There was a great stillness in the chamber. Es-siddeeh closed his eyes to concentrate his thought. Then, opening them, he began: "I learned the secret--that smile is the secret." "So I supposed." "Hush, or I shall begin to think that you do not know how to value this gift of my whole life, which I am making you. It is very difficult, but if all men would listen to me their lives would be easier." "I thought the secret was for me--yet no matter. Proceed. You see how serious I am." "I learned its secret." His lips trembled. He could hardly speak; at last with a great effort he said, "Now it comes--_upon maintaining that smile, which is the sign of the power of her existence, all her energy is bent_. She did not tell me, but I found it written in my heart. For what is she? _In the Sphinx, with her ravaged countenance and mutilated smile, I behold Life itself--Life in mysterious might, ignorant of its own origin, conscious only of its own beauty, couchant amid the wilderness of space and eternity._"