wife shone upon him. She looked at him earnestly and sadly, as if she had something on her mind that she wished to say to him.
He half raised himself in the bed, stretched out his arms to her, and said,—
“Then, you are not permitted to rest in peace for ever! You! the best, the most pious!—”
And the dead bowed her head, and laid her hand upon her heart in silence.
“And can I give you rest and peace in the grave?” he asked.
“Yes,” was the distinct reply.
“And how?”
“Bring me a hair, only a single hair, from the head of even one sinner whom God will condemn to eternal torture in Hell.”
“I believe that a few will be saved,” he replied. “Yet thou! so pure, so pious, to be unredeemed!”
“Follow me, then,” replied the dead. “I have obtained permission for you to fly through the air by my side, wherever your thoughts are directed. To mankind we shall be invisible, and able to pass unseen through even the closed and barred doors of inner rooms. But you must be certain that the man you point out as eternally lost is really one whom God will condemn to be tormented in hell-fire for ever; and ere the cock crows he must be found.”
Swiftly as the flight of thought they arrived at the great town. On the walls of some of the houses shone forth in letters of flame the names of the deadly sins: Pride, Avarice, Drunkenness, Murder,—in short, the whole catalogue of the seven deeply-dyed sins.
“I know these houses,” said the preacher, “for in them dwell those who will be punished eternally.”
And then they found themselves before a brilliantly lighted porch. The broad steps were covered with richly coloured carpets and blooming flowers, while from a magnificent saloon issued sounds of music and dancing.
The porter, clad in velvet and silk, stood erect near the door, with his gold-mounted stick in his hand.
“Our ball is equal in splendour to those in the king’s palace,” said the owner haughtily, to the people outside who were gazing at the dome, which was one blaze of lamps from top to toe; and truly it was a sight to be remembered.
But presently the proud man exclaimed, “What a crowd of low rabble are staring in here. Compared to me you are altogether only canaille.”
“The proud man,” said the dead wife; “do you see him?”
“Clearly,” replied the preacher; “but this man is not only a fool, but a madman. He will not be condemned to everlasting fire or eternal torture.”
“Only a madman!” echoed through the whole house of the proud man, and was heard by every one.
Then they passed on swiftly into the room of a miser,—a cold, miserable place, which made the teeth chatter of those who entered; and when they
