And most of them paused a little to see where they were, and looked round them, then went on; and it seemed to the little Pilgrim that, according to the doors by which they entered, each took a different way. While she watched, another came in by the same door as that at which the woman who was her charge had come in. And he too stumbled and looked about him with an air of great wonder and doubt. When he saw her seated on the ground, he came up to her, hesitating as one in a strange place who does not want to betray that he is bewildered and has lost his way. He came with a little pretence of smiling, though his countenance was pale and scared, and said, drawing his breath quick, "I ought to know where I am, but I have lost my head, I think. Will you tell me which is the way?" "What way?" cried the little Pilgrim, for her strength was gone from her, and she had no word to say to him. He looked at her with that bewilderment on his face, and said, "I find myself strange, strange. I ought to know where I am; but it is scarcely daylight yet. It is perhaps foolish to come out so early in the morning." This he said in his confusion, not knowing where he was, nor what he said. "I think all the ways lead to our Father," said the little Pilgrim (though she had not known this till now). "And the dear Lord walks about them all. Here you never go astray." Upon this the stranger looked at her, and asked in a faltering voice, "Are you an angel?" still not knowing what he said. "Oh, no, no. I am only a Pilgrim," she replied. "May I sit by you a little?" said the man. He sat down drawing long breaths as though he had gone through great fatigue; and looked about with wondering eyes. "You will wonder, but I do not know where I am," he said. "I feel as if I must be dreaming. This is not where I expected to come. I looked for something very different; do you think there can have been any mistake?" "Oh, never that," she said; "there are no mistakes here." Then he looked at her again, and said-- "I perceive that you belong to this country, though you say you are a pilgrim. I should be grateful if you would tell me Does one live here? And is this all? Is there no--no--? but I don't know what word to use. All is so strange, different from what I expected." "Do you know that you have died?" "Yes, yes, I am quite acquainted with that," he said, hurriedly, as if it had been an idea he disliked to dwell upon. "But then I expected--Is there no one to tell you where to go, or what you are to be--? or to take any notice of you?" The little Pilgrim was startled by this tone. She did not understand its meaning, and she had not any word to say to him. She looked at him with as much bewilderment as he had shown when he approached her, and replied, faltering-- "There are a great many people here; but I have never heard if there is any one to tell you--" "What does it matter how many people there are if you know none of them?" he said.