At last we understood each other. At last our hands clasped and our lips met upon the perfect union of feeling and purpose for all our future lives. All was clear between us, bright, calm; and I, at least, was supremely happy. How little my past looked now; how petty and insignificant all my former hopes and fears!
Dawn was breaking over the river. Wild and storm-beaten was the scene on which we looked. A huge waste of swollen waters around us, devastated villages, great piles of wreck on all sides; a watery sun casting pallid beams upon the swollen river. We were sailing Hollandward upon a fragment of the bridge, and in the distance were the spires and towers of a town gleaming in the sickly sun-rays. I stood up and gazed toward that town, and he stood by my side, his arm round my waist. My chief wish was that our sail could go on forever.
“Do you know what is ringing in my ears and will not leave my mind?” I asked.
“Indeed, no! You are a riddle and a mystery to me.”
I hummed the splendid air from the Choral Symphony, the motif of the music to the choruses to “Joy” which follow.
“Ah!” said he, taking up its deep, solemn gladness, “you are right, May—quite right. There is a joy, if it be ‘beyond the starry belt.’”
“I wonder what that town is?” I said, after a pause.
“I am not sure, but I fancy it is Emmerich. I am sure I hope so.”