wn grief over life,
which is fleeting and filled with anguish."

"Dost Thou not remember, lord, the 'faces of the gods," interrupted
Pentuer, "or hast Thou not seen mummies? All immortals look on
transient things with the selfsame indifference. Even man does when
nearing the end of his earth-life."

"The gods hear our prayers sometimes, but the Sphinx never moves. No
compassion on that face, a mere gigantic jeering terror. If I knew that
in its mouth were hidden some prophecy for me, or some means to elevate
Egypt, I should not dare to put a question. It seems to me that I
should hear some awful answer uttered with unpitying calmness. This is
the work and the image of the priesthood. It is worse than man, for it
has a lion's body; it is worse than a beast, for it has a human head;
it is worse than stone, for inexplicable life is contained in it."

At that moment groaning and muffled voices reached them, the source of
which they could not determine.

"Is the Sphinx singing?" inquired the astonished prince.

"That singing is in the underground temple," replied Pentuer. "But why
are they praying at this night hour?"

"Ask rather why they pray at all, since no one hears them."

Pentuer took the direction at once and went toward the place of the
singing. The prince found some stone for a support and sat down
wearied. He put his hands behind him, leaned back, and looked into the
immense face before him.

In spite of the lack of light, the superhuman features were clearly
visible; just the shade added life and character. The more the prince
gazed into that face, the more powerfully he felt that he had been
prejudiced, that his dislike was unreasonable.

On the face of the Sphinx, there was no cruelty, but rather
resignation. In its smile there was no jeering, but rather sadness. It
did not feel the wretchedness and fleeting nature of mankind, for it
did not see them. Its eyes, filled with expression, were fixed
somewhere beyond the Nile, beyond the horizon, toward regions concealed
from human sight beneath the vault of heaven. Was it watching the
disturbing growth of the Assyrian monarchy? Or the impudent activity of
Phoenicia? Or the birth of Greece, or events, perhaps, which were
preparing on the Jordan? Who could answer?

The prince was sure of one thing, that it was gazing, thinking, waiting
for something with a calm smile worthy of supernatural existence. And,
moreover, it seemed to him that if that something