She seemed to float away from me, and became invisible.  Her voice came to me, out of the shadows, faintly; apparently from a great distance:—­

‘A little while—­’ It died away, remotely.  In a breath, the Sea of Sleep darkened into night.  Far to my left, I seemed to see, for a brief instant, a soft glow.  It vanished, and, in the same moment, I became aware that I was no longer above the still sea; but once more suspended in infinite space, with the Green Sun—­now eclipsed by a vast, dark sphere—­before me.

Utterly bewildered, I stared, almost unseeingly, at the ring of green flames, leaping above the dark edge.  Even in the chaos of my thoughts, I wondered, dully, at their extraordinary shapes.  A multitude of questions assailed me.  I thought more of her, I had so lately seen, than of the sight before me.  My grief, and thoughts of the future, filled me.  Was I doomed to be separated from her, always?  Even in the old earth-days, she had been mine, only for a little while; then she had left me, as I thought, forever.  Since then, I had seen her but these times, upon the Sea of Sleep.

A feeling of fierce resentment filled me, and miserable questionings.  Why could I not have gone with my Love?  What reason to keep us apart?  Why had I to wait alone, while she slumbered through the years, on the still bosom of the Sea of Sleep?  The Sea of Sleep!  My thoughts turned, inconsequently, out of their channel of bitterness, to fresh, desperate questionings.  Where was it?  Where was it?  I seemed to have but just parted from my Love, upon its quiet surface, and it had gone, utterly.  It could not be far away!  And the White Orb which I had seen hidden in the shadow of the Sun of Darkness!  My sight dwelt upon the Green Sun—­eclipsed.  What had eclipsed it?  Was there a vast, dead star circling it?  Was the Central Sun—­as I had come to regard it—­a double star?  The thought had come, almost unbidden; yet why should it not be so?

My thoughts went back to the White Orb.  Strange, that it should have been—­I stopped.  An idea had come, suddenly.  The White Orb and the Green Sun!  Were they one and the same?  My imagination wandered backward, and I remembered the luminous globe to which I had been so unaccountably attracted.  It was curious that I should have forgotten it, even momentarily.  Where were the others?  I reverted again to the globe I had entered.  I thought, for a time, and matters became clearer.  I conceived that, by entering that impalpable globule, I had passed, at once, into some further, and, until then, invisible dimension; There, the Green Sun was still visible; but as a stupendous sphere of pale, white light—­almost as though its ghost showed, and not its material part.

A long time, I mused on the subject.  I remembered how, on entering the sphere, I had, immediately, lost all sight of the others.  For a still further period, I continued to revolve the different details in my mind.