trace the marking of her features. A gauzy
veil was thrown round and about the head, and of its two ends one fell
down across her left breast, which was outlined beneath it, and one, now
broken, streamed away upon the air behind her.

"Who is she?" I asked, as soon as I could take my eyes off the statue.

"Canst thou not guess, oh Holly?" answered Ayesha. "Where then is thy
imagination? It is Truth standing on the World, and calling to its
children to unveil her face. See what is writ upon the pedestal. Without
doubt it is taken from the book of Scriptures of these men of Kor," and
she led the way to the foot of the statue, where an inscription of the
usual Chinese-looking hieroglyphics was so deeply graven as to be still
quite legible, at least to Ayesha. According to her translation it ran
thus:--

"Is there no man that will draw my veil and look upon my face, for it is
very fair? Unto him who draws my veil shall I be, and peace will I give
him, and sweet children of knowledge and good works."

And a voice cried, "Though all those who seek after thee desire thee,
behold! Virgin art thou, and Virgin shalt thou go till Time be done. No
man is there born of woman who may draw thy veil and live, nor shall be.
By Death only can thy veil be drawn, oh Truth!"

And Truth stretched out her arms and wept, because those who sought her
might not find her, nor look upon her face to face.

"Thou seest," said Ayesha, when she had finished translating, "Truth
was the Goddess of the people of old Kor, and to her they built their
shrines, and her they sought; knowing that they should never find, still
sought they."

"And so," I added sadly, "do men seek to this very hour, but they find
out; and, as this Scripture saith, nor shall they; for in Death only is
Truth found."

Then with one more look at this veiled and spiritualised
loveliness--which was so perfect and so pure that one might almost fancy
that the light of a living spirit shone through the marble prison to
lead man on to high and ethereal thoughts--this poet's dream of beauty
frozen into stone, which I shall never forget while I live, we turned
and went back through the vast moonlit courts to the spot whence we had
started. I never saw the statue again, which I the more regret, because
on the great ball of stone representing the World whereon the figure
stood, lines were drawn, that probably, had there been light enough, we
should have discovered to be a map of the