As I stared at those flying columns of dancing figures I was overwhelmed by a sense of the inutility of man's existence: I perceived the absurdity of his aspirations and the poverty of his knowledge. I reviewed the progress of the centuries—not mentally, but actually—inscribed in detail upon the moving walls of that amphitheatre; and then, just as the triumphant thought came to me that I was about to be vouchsafed a peep into futurity, something snapped, the light died away, and I felt myself sinking down . . . down . . . down . . . .
****
I was on board a ferry-boat which lay near the Milson's Point wharf—the old one where, as a child, I used to watch for my father. I knew perfectly what had happened: we had crashed into one of the outstanding piers, and were sinking fast. I could hear the wash of the waves as they danced over the sponson and broke on the deck, and found myself struggling for life among a mad crowd of shrieking women and shouting men. Suddenly the clank of the engines ceased; and with a scream I leaped towards the land—just in time—for the boiler burst with a roar, scattering boat and passengers to the four winds . . . .
****
I was lying on the floor: friends were round me rubbing my hands and dashing water over my face. I knew what had happened—I was dying; the sword had fallen at last. The doctor always said my heart was affected: now I knew him to be right. Was this Death? How strange it felt to be going . . . going . . . ! ‘Oh! but I didn’t want—I wouldn’t die! I hadn’t said good-bye to Jessie. Where is she?—quick! quick! Oh! I can’t breathe! What's pressing my chest? Let me up! Oh! oh!’ . . . and I came to life. .
They had cut me down in the nick of time. It was only a matter of seconds: I was so far on my journey to the other world that it took half an hour of rubbing and pumping to recall me to earth. They tell me that my first words were
