She was silent in her agony; yet, speechless, her heart still cried to God.
“Save him! Save him! My soul for his! O God, my soul for his!”
O empty, sunlit sea!
The floor rocked and swayed beneath her feet. She clung to the telescope, striving to keep in view the rippling surface where last she had seen him.
No sign, no hope. This was the end.
An awful calmness held her. “Fifty fathoms deep,” and this time no return. She and Despair must company together through all the years to come, and after.
No! O God, his hands! And now his head, his heaving, gasping chest!
He fought and struck the water, then straightened out and lay upon his back, heaving, breathing; breathing, heaving; gasping with closed eyes; then quite still, resting; a weary child upon its mother’s breast; a lover in the tender arms of his belovèd. The water rocked him gently. So near he seemed. She clung to the telescope, speaking softly to him.
“Nigel, my dearest, God has heard my prayer. Rest there, dear Heart. The arms of Eternal Love are beneath you. Oh, if the wish to live returns, you will be given strength to reach the shore. Heart of my heart, my life for yours; my soul for yours, if need be.”
His eyes were open. He was gazing skyward. A look of ineffable joy and peace was on his face.