asleep for ages.

As they advanced he heard the doors close with a muffled thunder behind
them, and saw that the shadows seemed to retreat and shrink away towards
the interior of the house, carrying the hands and faces with them. He
heard the wind singing round the walls and over the roof, and its
wailing voice mingled with the sound of deep, collective breathing that
filled the house like the murmur of a sea; and as they walked up the
broad staircase and through the vaulted rooms, where pillars rose like
the stems of trees, he knew that the building was crowded, row upon row,
with the thronging memories of his own long past.

"This is the _House of the Past_," whispered Thorpe beside him, as they
moved silently from room to room; "the house of _your_ past. It is full
from cellar to roof with the memories of what you have done, thought,
and felt from the earliest stages of your evolution until now.

"The house climbs up almost to the clouds, and stretches back into the
heart of the wood you saw outside, but the remoter halls are filled with
the ghosts of ages ago too many to count, and even if we were able to
waken them you could not remember them now. Some day, though, they will
come and claim you, and you must know them, and answer their questions,
for they can never rest till they have exhausted themselves again
through you, and justice has been perfectly worked out.

"But now follow me closely, and you shall see the particular memory
for which I am permitted to be your guide, so that you may know and
understand a great force in your present life, and may use the sword of
justice, or rise to the level of a great forgiveness, according to your
degree of power."