ella had cut off these
sounds and was speaking again.

"It is useless to think of help, no boat, nothing could live upon that
fearful sea; moreover, within five minutes this church must fall and
vanish."

"My God! My God!" wailed Morris.

"Do not grieve; it is a waste of precious time, and do not stir till the
end. I want you to know that I did not seek this death. I never dreamed
of such a thing. You must tell my father so, and bid him not to mourn
for me. It was my intention to leave the church within ten minutes of
yourself. This cup is given to me by the hand of Fate. I did not fill
it. Do you hear and understand?"

"I hear and understand," answered Morris.

"Now you see," she went on, "that our talk to-day was almost inspired.
My web is woven, my picture is painted, and to me Heaven says, 'Hold.'
The thought that it might be so was in your mind, was it not?"

"Yes."

"And I answered your thought, telling you that time is nothing. This I
tell you again for your comfort in the days that remain to you of life.
Oh! I bless God; I bless God Who has dealt so mercifully to me. Where
are now the long years of lonely suffering that I feared--I who stand
upon the threshold of the Eternal? . . . I can talk no more, the water
is rising in the church--already it is about my knees; but remember
every word which I have said to you; remember that we are wed--truly
wed, that I go to wait for you, and that even if you do not see me I
will, if I may, be near you always--till you die, and afterwards will be
with you always--always."

"Stay," cried Morris.

"What have you to say? Be swift, the water rises and the walls are
cracking."

"That I love you now and for ever and for ever; that I will remember
everything; and that I know beyond a doubt that you have seen, and speak
the truth."

"Thank you for those blessed words, and for this life fare you well."

For a moment there was silence, or at least Stella's voice was silent,
while Morris stood over the aerophone, the sweat running from his face,
rocking like a drunken man in his agony and waiting for the end. Then
suddenly loud, clear, and triumphant, broke upon his ears the sound of
that song which he had heard her sing upon the sinking ship when her
death seemed near; the ancient song of the Over-Lord. Once more at
the last mortal ebb, while the water rose about her breast, Stella's
instincts and blood had asserted themselves, and forgetting aught else,
she was