"Come back! Come back! Elijah! Come back"!
But Repentance heeded not the call. Once again the shining blade bit deep in the straining timber, and Atonement had gained its perfect work.
A crash like riving thunder drowned the swirl of falling water, and the huddled mass of rock and earth and timber groaned and swelled and thrust, and then, with a crash and roar, swept through the stone-paved weir and plunged into the yawning canon.
The blade had fallen from the bared hands; the gray, drawn face was lifted to the heavens; but the grayness was gone. In its place was the light that comes from but one source. Repentance was crowned with atonement; but life had departed.
Not quite. From a boiling eddy, struggling, impatient to join the swirling rush of turbid waters, pitying hands drew a torn, bruised body. A rough, kind hand brushed earth-stained locks from the still face.
"My God! That sight would make a man of the devil!" This was the tribute of a dormant soul cased in a toil-calloused body.
Ralph was bending low. The eyelids fluttered, then sprang open; but the vision was not of this world. The lips trembled—
"Amy! Amy!" Then they closed forever.