e ancients had represented the idea of enigmatical questioning
and the riddle under the form of the Sphinx.

Then again came the inquiry, How can one educate a rich boy, who knows
that an estate like that, and untold wealth, are to be his, and who
sees no need for exertion in the life before him?

Eric had been looking down; now he threw back his head and smiled as he
thought, Neither pupil nor tutor is a mere abstract idea; both are
living, variously endowed beings. Such questions can receive no general
answer, and all riddles are like stormy weather out of doors, that,
seen through the dim atmosphere from the shelter of a house, seems
intolerable, but once out in the midst of it, one feels refreshed.

All his puzzling doubts and speculations seemed cleared away, and he
felt ready armed to wrestle with the problem. "Come on, riddle, I am
ready for you," he said almost aloud, and rode on at a quick trot.

In the midst of his doubts and thoughts a pleasant smile suddenly
spread over his face. He wondered whether he were not under some spell,
and all the frolicsome humor of youth came over him as he uttered aloud
a letter which he would write to his mother.

"DEAR MOTHER:

"You must let yourself be named Frau Adventure, for your son, Doctor
Adventure, Captain Hero, in the midst of railway cars and telegraphs,
has fallen upon Dream-land, where he is fed upon the sweet-bread of
praise, and the sugared almonds of protection, by a pair of spirits who
watch over the Holy Grail. He is now seated on a bay horse, and has the
magic word sesame of a sage hermit in his pocket, and all things come
at his bidding, and each says, 'Heart, what dost thou desire?' Dear
mother, if you want a quiet little island, only say so; I have
innumerable ones to dispose of.

"And there's a postscript, dear mother. Suppose the millionaire,
towards whom I am riding, should be Uncle Adam? That would make the
fairy tale complete."

At the thought that this fanciful conjecture might be a probability,
Eric stopped short. Then he rode briskly along the broad road, on each
side of which grew great nut-trees, dropping their caterpillar-like
blossoms on the path. The horse trotted on bravely, his black mane
flying in the wind as the rider lifted his cap to let the fresh air
cool his hot brow.

BOOK II.

CHAPTER I.

A MORNING IN EDEN.

Th