a broad river ebbed and
flowed between high banks. A sexton and a watchman stood by a granite
vault, the heavy door of which they had opened with a large key. Hard
by were some gardeners and labourers, and also a crowd of
curiosity-seekers who had come to witness the last sad rites.
Presently a funeral procession appeared. The hearse stopped near the
open vault, over the door of which stood out the name of CORTLANDT, and
the accompanying minister said a short prayer, while all present
uncovered their heads. After this the coffin was borne within and set
at rest upon a slab, among many generations of Cortlandts. In the
hearts of the relatives and friends was genuine sorrow, but the
curiosity-seekers went their way and gave little thought. "To-morrow
will be like to-day," they said, "and more great men will die."

Then came another change of scene, though it was comparatively slight.
The sun slowly sank beyond the farther bank of the broad river, and the
moon and stars shone softly on the gravestones and crosses. Two
gardeners smoked their short clay pipes on a bench before the Cortlandt
vault, and talked in a slow manner.

"He was a great man," said one, "and if his soul blooms like the
flowers on his grave, he must be in paradise, which we know is a finer
park than this."

"He was expert for the Government when the earth's axis was set right,"
said the second gardener, "and he must have been a scholar, for his
calculations have all come true. He was one of the first three men to
visit the other planets, while the obituaries in the papers say his
history will be read hereafter like the books of Caesar. After burying
all these great people, I sometimes wish I could do the same for
myself, for the people I bury seem to be remembered." After this they
relapsed into their meditations, the silence being broken only by an
occasional murmur from the river's steady flow.

Hereupon the voyagers found they were once more in the cave. The fire
had burned low, and the dawn was already in the east. Cortlandt wiped
his forehead, shivered, and looked extremely pale.

"Thank Heaven," he cried, "we cannot ordinarily foresee our end; for
but few would attain their predestined ending could they see it in
advance. May the veil not again be raised, lest I faint before it! I
looked in vain for my soul," he continued, "but could see it nowhere."

"The souls of those dying young," replied the spirit, "sometimes wish
to hov