Still she went on, singing, having to stop sometimes when her path would be entirely covered by a rising wave, and wait till it had fallen back.
Then again she went on, singing, ever singing, until she reached a spot about midway between the main and the promontory, when a wave, higher and stronger than before, struck her, staggered her, and nearly threw her down. Then for a moment she quailed, and ceased to sing. But the next instant the wave had receded and left a narrow path clear before her.
Then she hurried on again, not singing now, but with an awful consciousness of danger upon her; an awful prevision of the world beyond this, which her spirit might reach before her body should touch the shore.
Another higher, stronger wave came rising and roaring, and struck her down. It receded instantly, and she struggled to her feet, half stunned, strangled, and blinded.
Soon the path was entirely under water, and she had to wade in half knee-deep, and with that prevision, awful, holy, sweet, of being on the threshold of the other life.
“Mother, mother, if I must go, if I must go, come and meet me. I’m afraid, oh, I’m afraid of the great dark!” was her mute prayer, as another grand wave, howling like some furious beast of prey, reared itself above and threw her down.
Once more, as it fell back howling, she struggled up to her feet, more stunned, strangled, blinded, and dazed than before, and toiling for dear life, waded on knee-deep in water. Her limbs were failing, her head was dizzy, her senses were leaving her.
“I must go—I am going. Oh, Lord Jesus! Thou who art ‘the Resurrection and the Life,’ raise me! save me!” she breathed, in a strange half trance, in which she saw the heavens opened.
And at that moment the last wave struck her down, seized her and whirled her away.