Then a door opened somewhere ahead; a white haze of light filtered through, and I floated slowly into a room, that seemed strangely familiar.  All at once, there came a bewildering, screaming noise, that deafened me.  I saw a blurred vista of visions, flaming before my sight.  My senses were dazed, through the space of an eternal moment.  Then, my power of seeing, came back to me.  The dizzy, hazy feeling passed, and I saw, clearly.

XXIII

PEPPER

I was seated in my chair, back again in this old study.  My glance wandered ’round the room.  For a minute, it had a strange, quivery appearance—­unreal and unsubstantial.  This disappeared, and I saw that nothing was altered in any way.  I looked toward the end window—­the blind was up.

I rose to my feet, shakily.  As I did so, a slight noise, in the direction of the door, attracted my attention.  I glanced toward it.  For a short instant, it appeared to me that it was being closed, gently.  I stared, and saw that I must have been mistaken—­it seemed closely shut.

With a succession of efforts, I trod my way to the window, and looked out.  The sun was just rising, lighting up the tangled wilderness of gardens.  For, perhaps, a minute, I stood, and stared.  I passed my hand, confusedly, across my forehead.

Presently, amid the chaos of my senses, a sudden thought came to me; I turned, quickly, and called to Pepper.  There was no answer, and I stumbled across the room, in a quick access of fear.  As I went, I tried to frame his name; but my lips were numb.  I reached the table, and stooped down to him, with a catching at my heart.  He was lying in the shadow of the table, and I had not been able to see him, distinctly, from the window.  Now, as I stooped, I took my breath, shortly.  There was no Pepper; instead, I was reaching toward an elongated, little heap of grey, ashlike dust....

I must have remained, in that half-stooped position, for some minutes.  I was dazed—­stunned.  Pepper had really passed into the land of shadows.

XXIV

THE FOOTSTEPS IN THE GARDEN

Pepper is dead!  Even now, at times, I seem scarcely able to realize that this is so.  It is many weeks, since I came back from that strange and terrible journey through space and time.  Sometimes, in my sleep, I dream about it, and go through, in imagination, the whole of that fearsome happening.  When I wake, my thoughts dwell upon it.  That Sun—­those Suns, were they indeed the great Central Suns, ’round which the whole universe, of the unknown heavens, revolves?  Who shall say?  And the bright globules, floating forever in the light of the Green Sun!  And the Sea of Sleep on which they float!  How unbelievable it all is.  If it were not for Pepper, I should, even after the many extraordinary things that I have witnessed, be inclined to imagine