Still he waited--there was nothing, nothing but the vast silence, the unbroken blackness of the night, a night that was to last forever.

There was no answer, nothing but the deaf silence, the blind darkness.

But in a moment he felt that the very silence, the very lack of answer, was answer in itself; there was nothing for him.

Even that vast mysterious power to which he had cried could not help him now, _could_ not help him, could not stay the inexorable law of nature, could not reverse that vast terrible engine with its myriad spinning wheels that was riding him down relentlessly, grinding him into the dust.

And afterward?
After the engine had done its work, when that strange other time should come, that other life, what then?
No, not even then, nothing but outer darkness then and the gnashing of teeth, nothing but the deaf silence, nothing but the blind darkness, nothing but the unbroken blackness of an eternal night.
It was the end of everything! With a muffled cry, "Oh, I can't stand this!" Vandover threw himself from his bed, groping his way out into the sitting-room.