“Cry to me no more!” he groaned out in anguish. “I am also overwhelmed with foes and fears that verily drag me down with infernal and relentless grasp.”
This only deepened her pathetic cry, for she saw that she was lost forever, and realized anew that Mr. World was unable to give help, contrary to all his promises of the past.
Then did, they look forth, and beheld afar off the Valley of the Shadow of Death through which the King’s Highway passed. They saw that its foot-sore pilgrims leaned upon a rod and staff, and that they were supported by the pierced hands of a Friend that sticketh closer than a brother.
Neither did the pilgrims fear any evil nor tremble at any foe, for Christ was their all in all, and his lovely light lit the whole valley until it was all aglow with heavenly radiance.
This vision revealed to Mr. World and Miss Church-Member the place where _they_ might have been, and pierced their hearts as with a thousand daggers.
They soon stood on the verge of the Awful River which was filled with the filth and slimy putrefaction of the world, the fungus growth of society, and the scum of all nationalities. From these currents came unearthly sounds, doleful lamentations, melancholy and hopeless.
Not far down the stream they saw the fitful light of an eternal burning whose ghastly glare lit the water crests of the Black River.
I saw a relentless monster, in deep silence, stretching forth his bony arm, and with his icy fingers he pushed the two companions from the brink of the river, thus bringing them face to face with the last enemy whose sharp sting they felt as they were being overwhelmed by the merciless waves.
When they who journey on the King’s Highway reach the River of Death, they are met by a convoy of angels and borne aloft to the gates of the Celestial City.