The Winged Beetle

198 MR TODD supplies no hint of the answer to mine. For I—it seems I hardly know what question to ask ! Oh, Charley boy, the future is with you, and with your children—or, can humanity ever solve the great secret ? Is progress a delusion ? Are men mad ? Is the great secret truly transcendental ? We are like madmen, beating out our poor brains upon the walls of the Universe. Is there no Power that might reveal itself ? [Kneels.] Who art Thou before whom all things are equal, being as dust ? Who givest his fame to the poet, his bankruptcy to the rich man ? Who dost distinguish between the just and the unjust ? Thou keeper of all secrets, of this great secret which I seek, and have nowise found ! This secret for whose very shadowing-forth in parable I, who am young, strong, successful, beloved, most enviable of men, would throw it all away ! Oh Thou who givest that which none other can give, who art Thou ? How can I bargain with Thee ? what shall I give that I may possess Thy secret ? O question unavailing ! For I know not yet Thy name ! Who art Thou ? Who art Thou ? THOMAS [opening the door]. Mr. Todd. [Enter TODD. CARR. [rising]. How are you ? I’m afraid you find me distracted ! Listen : all my life I have sought—nor counted the cost—for the secret of things. Science is baffled, for Knowledge hath no wings ! Religion is baffled, for Faith hath no feet ! Life itself—of what value is all this coil and tumult ? Who shall give me the secret ? What is the secret ? [TODD whispers in his ear. Why, thanks, thanks ! What a fool I have been ! I have always known who you were, of course, but how