The indistinct apparitions had taken form, changing into white-winged angels all flying upwards, their long trailing garments mingling with the mist.
Ah! these would lead him to his last height! These celestial beings had been sent from heaven to help him in his bitterest need.
Looking down at the child in his arms, he saw that her face was deadly pale, her eyes were shut, the long lashes cast deep shadows on her sunken cheeks.
Indeed it was time to reach some shelter where he could lay her down.
Then raising his head a cry escaped his lips ... there close before him he espied the great peak which had always appeared so absolutely beyond his reach.
There it stood, enormous and majestic, an overpowering revelation rising out of the filmy clouds—clouds that were one mass of white-robed angels, their wings bearing them upwards, their arms extended in gestures of welcome towards this pilgrim of the heights!
Eric ran forward, all his remaining energy gathered together in one last supreme effort. The blood sang in his ears, his breath came in tormented gasps, his heart beat like a giant hammer, and wherever he passed the hard stones bore marks of his dripping wounds.
With one arm he pressed his heavy burden against him, with the other he hoisted himself higher and higher, clambering with dogged persistence, ignoring both pain and danger, always onwards, his enraptured eyes fixed in an ecstasy of hope on the heavenly host that was showing him the way ... and now ... and now ... he was lying face downwards on the hard snow-covered rock, his arms outstretched over the motionless body of the little girl.
He had reached the top, he had not failed!... he had really won!
Long he lay in completest exhaustion unable to move, almost unable to think, or even to feel. Around him the mists rose and fell like a restless foam-covered sea!