Suddenly a young girl walked hastily down to the shore. It was Senta, the daughter of Daland, and closely following her, came Eric the hunter. He begged her to hearken to his wooing once more. He pleaded with her to give up that mysterious stranger who had come between them. Had she forgotten all her promises? Must her father's rash command be obeyed? Because Eric was an old friend, and because Senta was a kind-hearted girl, she listened patiently to all that he had to say. Not that a single word could have altered her determination to live and to die, if need be, for the Flying Dutchman. She loved him too well for that. Even while she listened to Eric, she thought tenderly of her new lover and of how good God had been to allow her to be the maiden fair who would relieve his endless suffering. Perhaps it was just that tender thought showing in her face that the Dutchman mistook for regret. For, at that very moment, when Eric was pleading so earnestly, and Senta was listening so patiently, the Dutchman came down to the shore. He looked first at Eric, then at Senta, and like a flash came the thought that here was another girl who would not keep her promise. There had been so many like that. He did not stop to ask or to reason. Frantic with disappointment and despair, he rushed blindly over the rocks toward his ship. "To sea! To sea forevermore!" cried he. Now, you know Senta had not ceased loving him at all. So, although Eric tried to detain her, she ran swiftly after the Dutchman. She clung to him, crying out her love, and vowing eternal faithfulness again and again. So loudly did she cry, that Daland and Marie came hurrying, too. The Dutchman managed to loosen her arms, to free himself. He waved her back, and a great change came over his face. Gone were all thoughts of himself and of his sad fate. He thought only of this pure maiden who was willing to die for his sake. He knew now that he loved her too well to let her pay such an awful price. Rather would he sail on and on forever. Warning her not to come nearer, he leaped into his boat. Then, as the gray sailors unfurled the red, red sails and the black ship plunged forward, he stretched out his arms and told who he was. "The Flying Dutchman am I, the Scourge of the Sea," he shouted. Daland, Marie, Eric, crossed themselves and looked after him in horror. Not so, Senta. She had always known who he was. She would save him. She would be faithful until death. With a glad cry, she leaped forward and cast herself into the seething sea. The waves closed over her. And as they closed a strange thing happened. At the very same moment, the black ship, the red sails, the sailors, all disappeared. Only a rosy light lay over the water where they had been. And in that rosy light, which ascended from the blue water to the blue sky, were seen, in close embrace, the angel forms of the Flying Dutchman and his maiden fair, floating onward and upward, toward their eternal rest.