In the meantime, while their fate was being discussed on the shore, Raeburn and Erica were face to face with death.They were a long way from land before the wind had sprung up so strongly.Raeburn, who in his young days had been at once the pride and anxiety of the fishermen round his Scottish home, and noted for his readiness and daring, had now lost the freshness of his experience, and had grown forgetful of weather tokens.The danger was upon them before he had even thought of it.The strong wind blowing upon them, the delicious salt freshness, even the brisk motion, had been such a relief to them after the pain and excitement of the morning.But all at once they began to realize that their peril was great.
Their little boat tossed so fearfully that Erica had to cling to the seat for safety; one moment they were down in the hollow of a deep green wave, the next they would be tossed up upon its crest as though their boat had been a mere cockle shell.
"I'm afraid we've made a mistake, Eric," said Raeburn."I ought to have seen this storm coming up.""What?" cried Erica, for the dashing of the waves made the end of the sentence inaudible.
He looked across the boat at her, and an almost paralyzing dread filled his heart.For himself he could be brave, for himself death had no terrors but for his child!
A horrible vision rose before him.He saw her lying stiff and cold, with glazed eyes and drenched hair.Was there to be a yet more terrible separation between them? Was death to snatch her from him? Ah, no that should never be! They would at least go down together.
The vision faded; he saw once more the fair, eager face, no longer pallid, but flushed with excitement, the brave eyes clear and bright, but somewhat anxious.The consciousness that everything depended on him helped him to rise above that overmastering horror.
He was once more his strongest self.
The rudder had been left on the beach, and it was only possible to steer by the oars.He dismissed even the thought of Erica, and concentrated his whole being on the difficult task before him.So grand did he look in that tremendous endeavor that Erica almost forgot her anxiety; there was something so forceful in his whole aspect that she could not be afraid.Her heart beat quickly indeed, but the consciousness of danger was stimulating.
Yet the waves grew more and more furious, rolling, curling, dashing up in angry, white foam "raging horribly." At length came one which broke right over the little boat, blinding and drenching its occupants.
"Another like that will do for us," Said Raeburn, in a quiet voice.
The boat was half full of water.Erica began to bale out with her father's hat, and each knew from the other's face that their plight was hopeless.
Raeburn had faced death many times.He had faced it more than once on a sick bed, he had faced it surrounded by yelling and furious mobs, but he had never faced it side by side with his child.Again he looked at the angry gray-green waves, at the wreaths of curling white foam, again that awful vision rose before him, and, brave man as he was, he shuddered.
Life was sweet even though he was harassed, persecuted, libeled.
Life was sweet even though his child had deserted his cause, even though she had "cheated herself into a belief." Life was infinitely worth living, mere existence an exquisite joy, blank nothingness a hideous alternative.
"Bale out!" he cried, despair in his eyes, but a curve of resoluteness about his lips.
A few more strokes warily pulled, another huge wave sweeping along, rearing itself up, dashing down upon them.The boat reeled and staggered.To struggle longer was useless.Raeburn threw his oars inboard, caught hold of Erica, and held her fast.When they could see once more, they found the boat quite three parts full.
"Child!" he said, "child!" But nothing more would come.For once in his life words failed him; the orator was speechless.Was it a minute or an eternity that he waited there through that awful pause waited with his arm round Erica, feeling the beating of her heart, the heart which must soon cease beating forever, feeling her warm breath on his cheek alas! How few more breaths would she draw!
How soon would the cold water grave close over all that he His thoughts were abruptly checked.That eternal minute of waiting was over.It was coming death was coming riding along with mocking scorn on the crest of a giant wave.Higher and higher rose the towering, sea-green wall, mockingly it rushed forward, remorselessly swooped down upon them! This time the boat was completely swamped.
"I will at least die fighting!" thought Raeburn, a despairing, defiant courage inspiring him with almost superhuman strength.
