rough, in imagination, the whole of that
fearsome happening. When I wake, my thoughts dwell upon it. That
Sun--those Suns, were they indeed the great Central Suns, 'round which
the whole universe, of the unknown heavens, revolves? Who shall say? And
the bright globules, floating forever in the light of the Green Sun! And
the Sea of Sleep on which they float! How unbelievable it all is. If it
were not for Pepper, I should, even after the many extraordinary things
that I have witnessed, be inclined to imagine that it was but a gigantic
dream. Then, there is that dreadful, dark nebula (with its multitudes of
red spheres) moving always within the shadow of the Dark Sun, sweeping
along on its stupendous orbit, wrapped eternally in gloom. And the faces
that peered out at me! God, do they, and does such a thing really
exist? ... There is still that little heap of grey ash, on my study
floor. I will not have it touched.

At times, when I am calmer, I have wondered what became of the outer
planets of the Solar System. It has occurred to me, that they may have
broken loose from the sun's attraction, and whirled away into space.
This is, of course, only a surmise. There are so many things, about
which I wonder.

Now that I am writing, let me record that I am certain, there is
something horrible about to happen. Last night, a thing occurred, which
has filled me with an even greater terror, than did the Pit fear. I will
write it down now, and, if anything more happens, endeavor to make a
note of it, at once. I have a feeling, that there is more in this last
affair, than in all those others. I am shaky and nervous, even now, as I
write. Somehow, I think death is not very far away. Not that I fear
death--as death is understood. Yet, there is that in the air, which bids
me fear--an intangible, cold horror. I felt it last night. It
was thus:--

Last night, I was sitting here in my study, writing. The door, leading
into the garden, was half open. At times, the metallic rattle of a dog's
chain, sounded faintly. It belongs to the dog I have bought, since
Pepper's death. I will not have him in the house--not after Pepper.
Still, I have felt it better to have a dog about the place. They are
wonderful creatures.

I was much engrossed in my work, and the time passed, quickly.
Suddenly, I heard a soft noise on the path, outside in the garden--pad,
pad, pad, it went, with a stealthy, curious sound. I sat upright, with a
quick movement, and