ROCK OF AGES.
MEANWHILE, Kate sat in the cave. She was all alone. In front of her
raged the angry sea. She watched it at first from the entrance to the
cave. Step by step, slowly but surely, she saw Death, the grim foe,
advancing to meet her. Kate had been close to death a little earlier
in the same year, but then she had been unconscious. If Death had
really claimed her as his prey, she would have gone away into the other
world knowing nothing of that last journey. In ignorance and oblivion
she would have passed the boundary, and when she found herself in the
Life beyond this life, she would recall no memory of the road by which
she had come. To meet death by severe illness would have been in the
ordinary course of nature, but the death which now awaited her was
different. She was well again, and strong; she had recovered from her
accident; all her feelings were alive and keen; she was young, too, and
had nothing, in the ordinary sense, to do with death; it was very awful
to Kate to see it coming up to her in this manner.
The very vividness of her imagination only added to the horrors which
she now endured. She was about to part from life, and life at this
moment became exceedingly precious to her. The thought of the real
suffering which she had endured a few hours back, sitting in the
entrance of this very same cave, now seemed trivial and of no account
whatever. She had been a very angry and passionate and rebellious girl.
She had thought her pride and independence honorable and righteous,
something to hug to her heart, to cling to, whatever happened; now it
seemed but a paltry sort of rag, not worth a moments thought nor a
moment's pain. For the sake of it, however, she was about really to
lose her life. Because she could not accept a great kindness, because
she would rather turn her back on all her true friends than hear
certain silly words applied to her, she was to die.
"I was mad," thought Kate to herself. "I see the thing in its right
light now. My proud heart could not brook the thing. Oh, grandfather!
you used to tell me many times that I must conquer the pride which has
been my undoing. I was proud of my very openness and humility; I was
proud of telling the girls what I really was, but this last indignity I
could not, I would not, submit to. I would not rule my spirit in this
matter!
"'Better is he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city.'
"I would not rule my spirit, and now God has taken me at my word. I
came out here to have a fight with my own proud heart. I know that God
was whispering to me all the time not to be angry and impatient, not to
throw away the chances he was giving me. He wanted me to cultivate my
talents, and he showed me this way, which was hard to take, and bitter;
but it was his way, and he wanted me to take it. Oh, I was mad! I
refused--I gave the devil the victory, and God was angry, and now he is
punishing me. God has taken me at my word. I shall never eat the bread
of charity. No one will ever call me a charity girl now. God is taking
away the life which I would not use as he wanted me to use it. Oh, I
never thought I should fear death! How beautiful grandfather looked
when he died! but he was ready, and I am not. I am young. How full of
life I feel! how my heart bounds! how keen and strong my brain has got
once again! but in a few minutes, perhaps an hour, it will all be over;
my brain will have no more thoughts; my heart will be quiet. I shall be
dead--drowned!
"I wonder how people feel when they are drowning. I have read accounts
of drowning people, and they say that, just before they go, they see
all the old life, that it passes before them as a sort of vision. I
wonder if grandfather knows that I shall be with him to-day. Perhaps
I am not good enough to see him. I am so sorry to die. O God, is it
possible that you can forgive me even yet, and let me use my life now
in your way, and not my own way? Oh, I don't want to die!"
Kate crept a little farther into the cave. The great storm of nature
was raging magnificently outside. Flashes of lightning were filling
the cave with a lurid light from moment to moment. The thunder rolled
and echoed. But Kate scarcely noticed the storm. Her whole mind, every
nerve, every scrap of feeling she possessed, became soon absorbed in
watching the water. She had no fear of the lightning striking her, but
she dreaded the ever-rising tide inexpressibly. In a short time it
reached the entrance to the cave--the next wave rolled in, washing the
sandy floor. Kate started back in fear. She moved inch by inch farther
and farther into the recesses of the cave; soon she was standing almost
in the dark. The waves echoed with a horrible hollow sound as they
entered the cave; they seemed to dance and play with one another.
The storm of thunder and lightning was gradually dying away, but now
and then a flash still lit up the cave; and cast a reflection, like
momentary fire, on the crests of the rolling billows. Kate's agony and
terror grew worse and worse. She found herself at last at the extreme
end of the narrow cave. She climbed a shelf of rock, and took refuge
where the skeletons of the long-dead woman and child were lying in
their clay bed; she felt the clay, and found it hard and dry. As a
rule, therefore, the water did not reach this point. But Kate was well
aware that this was a flood-tide, which, helped by the terrific gale,
would reach a far higher spot than that usually gained by the waters.
She clasped her hands, clung to the side of the rock, closed her eyes,
and endeavored to pray.
"I will try and be resigned," thought the poor girl to herself. "I will
try not to be angry and impatient; I will try hard to turn my thoughts
from the world. I deserve this punishment. God was very good to me, and
I would not have his goodness; now he is taking me away. Oh, I will
try to be patient, and not to be a coward! I will try to meet my death
calmly. Oh, if only it were all over--the shock--the suffocation--the
struggle for breath! Suppose I fling myself into the water and get it
over at once. No, I won't do that; perhaps I may be able to hold on;
perhaps the tide will not reach such a high point, after all, and if I
stand up here, and cling tight to the rock, the water may really turn
before I am drowned.
"Oh, I wish I were ready to go! I wish I had thought of the things of
the other world a little more when I was well and strong. Grandad used
to say so much about being ready to die. He used to say that it put
everything into a right focus, and then this world never looked too big
nor important, and there was no room in the heart for foolish, silly
pride, nor any other merely _worldly_ sins. Grandad was ready; I wish I
were. Oh, it is awful to be drowned like this in the dark! I wish there
was some higher shelf on the rock that I could grasp and cling to: I
wish I were not so frightened. There, that is the first wave; it has
touched my feet, it has washed just over the shelf where I am standing.
How bitterly cold the water feels, and how strong! but the rock is
stronger. I will cling to the side of the rock with both my hands. What
is that hymn--'Rock of Ages'? Grandad and I used to sing it on Sunday
evenings: 'Rock of Ages, cleft for me.' I will shut my eyes and try to
think of the old hymn.
"'While I draw this fleeting breath,
When mine eyelids close in death.'
"Yes; 'when mine eyelids close in death.'" It will soon be all over
now. I shall see grandad, and I think, _somehow_, God will forgive me.
Poor Kate! yes, grandfather used often to call me 'Poor Kate.' He said
I had a stormy nature; he said he was the same when he was young, but
he conquered himself. Poor Kate! I didn't conquer it, and now I am
going.
"'Rock of Ages, cleft for me.' I am not so frightened since I have
thought about the Rock of Ages. Yes, the water is very cold; icy cold.
It is up to my knees now; how fast it is coming in! 'Rock of Ages.'
I'll shut my eyes and try to think of the hymn."
"Kate!" called a voice; "Kate!"
It sounded, muffled, and from a long way off, but no clarion note from
the clearest trumpet could have made a more complete revolution in all
Kate O'Connor's feelings. When she heard it she roused herself on the
instant from a state of stupor into one of vigorous action. She had
thought herself almost in the other world, but once again now she was
keen to battle for her life.
"Kate!" called the voice. It sounded like Cecil's, only very, very far
away. "Are you there? Answer me; shout up, if you are--say yes."
"Yes!" called Kate.
She was no longer weak--her voice had gone from her with a shout. Her
vigorous "yes" was answered by a faint cheer, which seemed to come from
miles away.
"Kate," called the same voice again, "there is a rope coming down to
you--a stout rope; tie it firmly round your waist when it comes, and
we'll pull you up. A rope will be with you in a minute."
"Be quick!" called Kate.
She had scarcely said the words before something dangled against her
face; it was a thick rope weighted with lead. Here was her last chance.
With vigorous, frantic haste she tied it securely round her waist.
"Say when you are ready," cried the voice from above.
Kate gave the rope another pull.
"Ready!" she called.
The next instant she found herself lifted gently off her feet. Up and
up, through the narrow passage in the cliff, she was drawn; up, and
up, and up, until at last, bruised and shaken, but still alive, she
saw once again the glad, the beautiful, light of day. No matter that
the elements raged and the winds blew, and the very earth seemed to
shake--it was still the glad old earth; Kate was alive, and death was
far away. It seemed too good to be true.
* * * * *
They all brought Kate O'Connor back in triumph; she was petted, and
soothed, and kissed, and made much of. Even Matilda rushed to her and
flung her arms round her neck, and burst into tears over her, and Kate,
wonderful to say, did not repulse her. Then she had a hot bath and was
put to bed, and she closed her eyes and dropped to sleep, while Cecil
and Molly watched her, too excited and too rejoiced to leave her even
for a moment. When she awoke from that sound sleep, she was none the
worse for her terrible adventure.
"Molly and Cecil, I want to say something," said Kate, clasping both
their hands in hers. "God saved me from drowning almost through a
miracle; and I am so glad to be alive again, Molly, and so delighted
to be able to kiss you, Cecil, and this bed is so delicious, and your
dear faces are so lovely, and the earth is such a grand, splendid
battlefield, and it is such a _good_ thing to be young and strong,
that if every girl at Redgarth taunts me with the fact that I eat the
bread of charity, I shall not mind them now. For I think, there, in
that awful gale, God showed me, himself, a way to rule my spirit. So,
girls, I am going to forgive Matilda, and I'm going openly and frankly
to accept Miss Forester's offer; and if I repent of it by and by, and
have to fight my battles over again, you will promise to remind me of
what I've said just now."
"Oh, I think you are grand!" said Molly. "I think you've the best pride
after all--the right pride.".
"Kiss me!" said Cecil.
THE END.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Punctuation errors repaired.
Page 144, repeated word "like" removed from text. Original read (I felt
like like cutting)
Page 166, "spirts" changed to "spirits" (all her high spirits)
Page 288, "season" changed to "reason" (for no other reason)