of a beautiful woman.  And these women in this strange city looked as if they also had a snake-like origin,—­there was something so soft and lithe and undulating about their movements and gestures.  Weary of walking, distracted by the ever-increasing clamor, and feeling lost among the crowd, he at last perceived a wide and splendid square, surrounded wild stately houses, and having in its centre a huge, white granite obelisk which towered like a pillar of snow against the dense blue of the sky.  Below it a massively sculptured lion, also of white granite, lay couchant, holding a shield between its paws,—­and on either side two fine fountains were in full play, the delicate spiral columns of water being dashed up beyond the extreme point of the obelisk, so that its stone face was wet and glistening with the tossing rainbow shower.

Here he turned aside out of the main thoroughfare,—­there were tall, shady trees all about, and fantastically carved benches underneath them, ... he determined to sit down and rest, and steadily think out his involved and peculiar condition of mind.

As he passed the sculptured lion, he saw certain words engraved on the shield it held,—­they were ...  “Through the lion and the serpent shall Al-kyris flourish.”

There was no disorder in his intelligence concerning this sentence,—­he was able to read it clearly and comprehensively, ... and yet ...  What was the language in which it was written, and how did he come to know it so thoroughly? ...  With a sigh that was almost a groan, he sank listlessly on a seat, and burying his head in his hands to shut out all the strange sights which so direfully perplexed his reason, he began to subject himself to a patient, serious cross-examination.

In the first place ...  Who was he?  Part of the required answer came readily,—­Theos.  Theos what?  His brain refused to clear up this point,—­it repeated Theos—­Theos,—­over and over again, but no more!

Shuddering with a vague dread, he asked himself the next question, ...  From whence had he come?  The reply was direct and decisive—­ from Ardath.

But what was Ardath?  It was neither a country nor a city—­it was a “waste field,” where he had seen. ... ah!  Whom had he seen?  He struggled furiously with himself for some response to this, ... none came!  Total dumb blankness was the sole result of the inward rack to which he subjected his thoughts!

And where had he been before he ever saw Ardath? ... had he no recollection of any other place, any other surroundings?—­ Absolutely none!—­torture his wits as he would,—­absolutely none! ...  This was frightful ... incredible! ...  Surely, surely, he mused piteously, there must have been something in his life before the name of “Ardath” had swamped his intelligence! ...