The Book of Wonder

  THE HOUSE OF THE SPHINX

  When I came to the House of the Sphinx it was already dark. They mademe eagerly welcome. And I, in spite of the deed, was glad of anyshelter from that ominous wood. I saw at once that there had been adeed, although a cloak did all that a cloak may do to conceal it. Themere uneasiness of the welcome made me suspect that cloak.

  The Sphinx was moody and silent. I had not come to pry into thesecrets of Eternity nor to investigate the Sphinx's private life, andso had little to say and few questions to ask; but to whatever I didsay she remained morosely indifferent. It was clear that either shesuspected me of being in search of the secrets of one of her gods, orof being boldly inquisitive about her traffic with Time, or else shewas darkly absorbed with brooding upon the deed.

  I saw soon enough that there was another than me to welcome; I saw itfrom the hurried way that they glanced from the door to the deed andback to the door again. And it was clear that the welcome was to be abolted door. But such bolts, and such a door! Rust and decay andfungus had been there far too long, and it was not a barrier anylonger that would keep out even a determined wolf. And it seemed to besomething worse than a wolf that they feared.

  A little later on I gathered from what they said that some imperiousand ghastly thing was looking for the Sphinx, and that something thathad happened had made its arrival certain. It appeared that they hadslapped the Sphinx to vex her out of her apathy in order that sheshould pray to one of her gods, whom she had littered in the house ofTime; but her moody silence was invincible, and her apathy Oriental,ever since the deed had happened. And when they found that they couldnot make her pray, there was nothing for them to do but to pay littleuseless attentions to the rusty lock of the door, and to look at thedeed and wonder, and even pretend to hope, and to say that after allit might not bring that destined thing from the forest, which no onenamed.

  It may be said I had chosen a gruesome house, but not if I haddescribed the forest from which I came, and I was in need of any spotwherein I could rest my mind from the thought of it.

  I wondered very much what thing would come from the forest on accountof the deed; and having seen that forest--as you, gentle reader, havenot--I had the advantage of knowing that anything might come. It wasuseless to ask the Sphinx--she seldom reveals things, like herparamour Time (the gods take after her), and while this mood was onher, rebuff was certain. So I quietly began to oil the lock of thedoor. And as soon as they saw this simple act I won their confidence.It was not that my work was of any use--it should have been done longbefore; but they saw that my interest was given for the moment to thething that they thought vital. They clustered round me then. Theyasked me what I thought of the door, and whether I had seen better,and whether I had seen worse; and I told them about all the doors Iknew, and said that the doors of the baptistry in Florence were betterdoors, and the doors made by a certain firm of builders in London wereworse. And then I asked them what it was that was coming after theSphinx because of the deed. And at first they would not say, and Istopped oiling the door; and then they said that it was thearch-inquisitor of the forest, who is investigator and avenger of allsilverstrian things; and from all that they said about him it seemed to methat this person was quite white, and was a kind of madness that wouldsettle down quite blankly upon a place, a kind of mist in which reasoncould not live; and it was the fear of this that made them fumblenervously at the lock of that rotten door; but with the Sphinx it wasnot so much fear as sheer prophecy.

  The hope that they tried to hope was well enough in its way, but I didnot share it; it was clear that the thing that they feared was thecorollary of the deed--one saw that more by the resignation upon theface of the Sphinx than by their sorry anxiety for the door.

  The wind soughed, and the great tapers flared, and their obvious fearand the silence of the Sphinx grew more than ever a part of theatmosphere, and bats went restlessly through the gloom of the windthat beat the tapers low.

  Then a few things screamed far off, then a little nearer, andsomething was coming towards us, laughing hideously. I hastily gave aprod to the door that they guarded; my finger sank right into themouldering wood--there was not a chance of holding it. I had notleisure to observe their fright; I thought of the back-door, for theforest was better than this; only the Sphinx was absolutely calm, herprophecy was made and she seemed to have seen her doom, so that no newthing could perturb her.

  But by mouldering rungs of ladders as old as Man, by slippery edges ofthe dreaded abyss, with an ominous dizziness about my heart and afeeling of horror in the soles of my feet, I clambered from tower totower till I found the door that I sought; and it opened on to one ofthe upper branches of a huge and sombre pine, down which I climbed onto the floor of the forest. And I was glad to be back again in theforest from which I had fled.

  And the Sphinx in her menaced house--I know not how she fared--whethershe gazes for ever, disconsolate, at the deed, remembering only in hersmitten mind, at which the little boys now leer, that she once knewwell those things at which man stands aghast; or whether in the endshe crept away, and clambering horribly from abyss to abyss, came atlast to higher things, and is wise and eternal still. For who knows ofmadness whether it is divine or whether it be of the pit?