Never again would he question that amazing truth that had burst
upon him here at the very Gate of Death, changing the whole world.
He looked down upon her as he held her, the light from the candle
shining through her hair, her vivid face uplifted to his, her eyes
wide and glowing, seeing him alone. No, he needed no words to tell
him that.
And then suddenly the roar without increased a hundredfold. A
shrieking wind tore past, and in a moment the flickering light went
out. They stood in darkness.
Her arms clasped his neck more closely. He felt the coming agony
in her hold. She spoke again, her lips against his own. "Through
the grave--and Gate of Death--" she said.
That aroused him. A strength that was titanic entered into him.
Why should they wait here for Death? At least they would make a
fight for it, however small their chance. He suddenly realized
that mortal life had become desirable again--a thing worth fighting
for--a precious gift.
He bent, as he had bent on that first night at the farm--how long
ago!--and gathered her up into his arms.
A rush of water swirled about his knees as he made for the dim
opening. The bank had gone. Yet the rise in the ground would give
them a few seconds. He counted upon the chance. Out into the open
he stumbled.
The water was up to his waist here.
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