departed.

[Illustration: Venice.]

CHAPTER III.

William Brenton pondered long on the situation. He would have known
better how to act if he could have been perfectly certain that he was
not still the victim of a dream. However, of one thing there was no
doubt--namely, that it was particularly harrowing to see what he had
seen in his own house. If it were true that he was dead, he said to
himself, was not the plan outlined for him by Ferris very much the wiser
course to adopt? He stood now in one of the streets of the city so
familiar to him. People passed and repassed him--men and women whom
he had known in life--but nobody appeared to see him. He resolved, if
possible, to solve the problem uppermost in his mind, and learn whether
or not he could communicate with an inhabitant of the world he had left.
He paused for a moment to consider the best method of doing this. Then
he remembered one of his most confidential friends and advisers, and at
once wished himself at his office. He found the office closed, but went
in to wait for his friend. Occupying the time in thinking over his
strange situation, he waited long, and only when the bells began to ring
did he remember it was Christmas forenoon, and that his friend would
not be at the office that day. The next moment he wished himself at his
friend's house, but he was as unsuccessful as at the office; the friend
was not at home. The household, however, was in great commotion, and,
listening to what was said, he found that the subject of conversation
was his own death, and he learned that his friend had gone to the
Brenton residence as soon as he heard the startling news of Christmas
morning.

Once more Brenton paused, and did not know what to do. He went again
into the street. Everything seemed to lead him toward his own home.
Although he had told Ferris that he did not intend to take his advice,
yet as a sensible man he saw that the admonition was well worth
considering, and if he could once become convinced that there was no
communication possible between himself and those he had left; if he
could give them no comfort and no cheer; if he could see the things
which they did not see, and yet be unable to give them warning, he
realized that he would merely be adding to his own misery, without
alleviating the troubles of others.

He wished he knew where to find Ferris, so that he might have another
talk with him. The man impressed him as being exceedingly se