For a brief moment I halted as if expecting some fond, familiar voice to ring in my ears.
It came.
It was the gentle baroness, my mother! Gently, softly, sweetly, that well-known voice came floating on the morning air bidding me take heart, calling me by name just as in childhood’s days, and saying: “My baby! my boy! my son! my darling! Rouse thee! Press on! Press on quickly!” And then I took heart.
The fearful clamp set on my breast relaxed its hold.
I could feel my strength returning. But oh, so slowly, so slowly! Still, it was on its way back at last! I could feel my feet grow lighter. With some effort I quickened my pace almost to a run.
On, on, I sped, now every instant giving me new strength, every motion sending the warm blood tingling to my fingers’ ends.
The spell had been lifted! I was myself again!
Swifter, and swifter my pace quickened until I flew along as in days of old, when with ease I left all comers far behind me!
Methought I could almost hear the plash of the waves on the snow-white sands of that beautiful harbor where my good ship lay.
On, and ever onward, I sped with a new and mysterious strength. I was astounded at my own deeds. I was almost afraid, so fast I was bounding along, lest again some demon of the air should touch my limbs and stay my course.