"They are my words," he cried excitedly, and with a hysterical laugh, "mine, mine; the words I use to myself when I think of the mystery which they strove so carefully to conceal from me, but which for all their cunning I have discovered. Listen, and I will tell you about it. When I first came here, I saw, either in hell or in heaven, the faces of most of the dead whom I had known on earth, but some faces there were (Henry Marshall's was one of them) which I missed, and which from that time to this I have never seen. 'Where, then, are they?' I asked myself, 'since neither earth, hell, nor heaven knows them more? Has God some fearful fate in store for the sinner, which may one day fall upon me and mine, as it has already fallen upon them?' As I felt the shadow of that dark misgiving resting on my heart, I knew that for me another horror had arisen in hell, and that rest thenceforth there could be none until I had solved the mystery. "And so it came about that all the moments of my release from suffering were spent in the search for those missing faces. Sometimes I took counsel with those who were in hell as I was, but they could teach me only that which I already knew; sometimes I asked the help of the souls in Paradise, but they told me nothing save that I must be no more faithless but believing. And then I sought to know of the angels where were those lost ones, but with a look of sad and pitiful meaning, they passed on and left me unanswered. Ah! but they could not hide their secrets from me! No, no, I was not one of the credulous, nor was I to be put off with a frown, and I have found out their mystery, and you shall share it. "When you and I were children, we were taught that every human being is made in the image of God, and is born with an immortal soul. But they did not tell us that just as neglected diseases can kill the body, so unchecked sin can kill the soul, and that we have it in our power to so deface the Divine Image that we become like unto, if not lower, than the beasts which perish, and die out at our deaths as they. But it is so, and that is what I meant when I said that he of whom you asked was 'of the dead who die.' "You shake your head, and mutter that I am mad, and that you cannot credit such a statement. Well, perhaps I am mad--mad with the horror of my unbelief; but why should it not be as I say, I ask you? I have brooded over it all a thousand times, and am convinced that I have solved the riddle, and I will tell you why I think so.