ed to have
been left behind me in England. Once in Holland, my course had been
influenced by circumstances which were perfectly natural, by commonplace
discoveries which might have revealed themselves to any man in my
position. What did this mean? Had my gifts as a seer of visions departed
from me in the new land and among the strange people? Or had my destiny
led me to the place at which the troubles of my mortal pilgrimage were
to find their end? Who could say?

Early the next morning we set sail once more.

Our course was nearly northward. On one side of me was the tawny sea,
changing under certain conditions of the weather to a dull pearl-gray.
On the other side was the flat, winding coast, composed alternately of
yellow sand and bright-green meadow-lands; diversified at intervals by
towns and villages, whose red-tiled roofs and quaint church-steeples
rose gayly against the clear blue sky. The captain suggested to me
to visit the famous towns of Edam and Hoorn; but I declined to go on
shore. My one desire was to reach the ancient city in which Mrs. Van
Brandt had been left deserted. As we altered our course, to make for the
promontory on which Enkhuizen is situated, the wind fell, then shifted
to another quarter, and blew with a force which greatly increased the
difficulties of navigation. I still insisted, as long as it was possible
to do so, on holding on our course. After sunset, the strength of the
wind abated. The night came without a cloud, and the starry firmament
gave us its pale and glittering light. In an hour more the capricious
wind shifted back again in our favor. Toward ten o'clock we sailed into
the desolate harbor of Enkhuizen.

The captain and crew, fatigued by their exertions, ate their frugal
suppers and went to their beds. In a few minutes more, I was the only
person left awake in the boat.

I ascended to the deck, and looked about me.

Our boat was moored to a deserted quay. Excepting a few fishing vessels
visible near us, the harbor of this once prosperous place was a vast
solitude of water, varied here and there by dreary banks of sand.
Looking inland, I saw the lonely buildings of the Dead City--black,
grim, and dreadful under the mysterious starlight. Not a human creature,
not even a stray animal, was to be seen anywhere. The place might have
been desolated by a pestilence, so empty and so lifeless did it
now appear. Little more than a hundred years ago, the record of its
population re