pite of the
strict rules against such nightly excursions, Jill sat very still and
quite content upon her camel gazing at the Sphinx. She turned and
looked in the direction where the great eyes were staring, and then
turning once more towards the mystery of all ages, she urged her camel
on until it stood close to the base, and then, dissatisfied, she urged
it back until she could look once more from a distance, and shaking her
head with a little sigh, spoke in a whisper to the man at her side.

"I wonder, Hahmed," she said, holding out her hand as was her habit
when perplexed or distressed, "I wonder who conceived the idea. No! I
mean something quite different--it is--how shall I say--I wonder who it
was who, having the _meaning_ of that face in his mind, had the power
and the will to hold it there while he carved or chipped it--oh! so
slowly into stone. It is easy enough to paint from a model, or hew
blocks of marble in the shape of a man or a woman or animal, isn't
it--when you have them in front with their expressions and their forms?
But how did the man who did this with only a picture in his _mind_ to
rely on _dare_ to use a chisel? Because you can't rub out mistakes in
stone, and sketches wouldn't have helped him, would they, because even
photographs give one no real idea of all the Sphinx means? And I
wonder where the look lies--in the eyes or the whole face, or the set
of the head, or what? The eyes are rather like a dog's, aren't they--a
sort of wistfulness and steadfastness."

"Many have asked, O! woman, though not many who have looked upon the
Sphinx have, I think, thought upon just your first point. What do we
know about this living stone before which the mightiest, and most
wonderful, and most beautiful works of even the greatest masters seem
as nothing? Who was he? Whose brain conceived, and hands gave birth
to this mystery? Why is his name not engraved somewhere for us pigmies
to read? Though doubtless it is in the depths of the hidden chambers
in the base which up to now have only been superficially examined."

"Yes!" broke in Jill, "but whoever he was, slave or prince, captive or
free, _who_ taught him what eternity _looks like_; for that surely is
is what the Sphinx sees, the circle with no join, the world--not this
one--not Egypt--without end. We all say for ever and ever, but _our_
brains reel when we _think_ for one minute on eternity. Do you think
his brain snapped when he put the la