could never begin and climb
that stair again."

Then, from a secret drawer in the despatch-box, she extracted a little
phial, tightly stoppered and sealing-waxed. She examined it closely,
and looked at the liquid in it against the light.

"My medicine has taken no harm during this twenty years," she thought.
"It still looks what it is--strong enough to kill a giant, and subtle
enough to leave little trace upon a child." Then she shut up the
despatch-box and put it away, and, going to the open window, looked up
at the stars, and then down at the shadows flung by the clouds as they
swept across the moon.

"Shadows," she mused, "below, and gleams of light between the shadows
--that is like our life. Light above--pure, clear, eternal--that is
like the wider life. And between the two--the night, and above them
both--the stars.

"In the immensity, where shall I find my place? Oh, that I might sleep
eternally! Yes, that would be best of all--to sink into sleep never
ending, unbroken, and unbreakable, to be absorbed into the cool
vastness of the night, and lie in her great arms for ever. Oh, Night!
whom I have ever loved, you bring your sleep to wearied millions--
bring _me_ sleep eternal. But no, the stars are above the night, and
above the stars is--what? Yes; the hour I dread like every other
mortal with my body, and yet dare to long for with my spirit, has
come. I am about to cast off Time, and pass into Eternity, to spring
from the giddy heights of Space into the uncertain arms of the
Infinite. Yet a few minutes, and my essence, my vital part, will start
upon its endless course, and passing far above those stars, will find
the fount of that knowledge of which it has already sipped, and drink
and drink till it grows like a God, and can look upon the truth and
not be blinded. Such are my high hopes. And yet--if there be a hell!
My life has been evil, my sins many. What if there be an avenging
Power waiting, as some think, to grind me into powder, and then endow
each crushed particle with individual sense of endless misery? What if
there be a hell! In a few minutes, or what will seem but a few minutes
--for surely, to the disembodied spirit, time cannot exist; though it
sleep a billion years, it will be as a breath--I shall have solved the
problem. I shall know what all the panic-stricken millions madly ask,
and ask in vain! Yes, I shall know if _there is a hell!_ Well, if
there be, then I shall rule there, for power is