ly held fair, in less than an hour they
would reach home; so near were they to happiness, and yet, alas! how
near to death!

A plank sprung in the ship. The water rushed in. They stopped it as
well as they could, and used the pumps vigorously. All sail was set,
and the flag of distress was hoisted. They were about a Danish mile
off. Fishing-boats were to be seen, but were far away. The wind was
fair for them. The current was also in their favour, but not strong
enough. The vessel sank. Joergen threw his right arm around Clara.

With what a speaking look did she not gaze into his eyes when,
imploring our Lord for help, he threw himself with her into the sea!
She uttered one shriek, but she was safe. He would not let her slip
from his grasp. The words of the old ballad,--

"And, clasping a sweet maiden, how
The prince stood sculptured on the prow,"

were now carried into effect by Joergen in that agonising hour of
danger and deep anxiety. He felt the advantage of being a good
swimmer, and exerted himself to the utmost with his feet and one hand;
the other was holding fast the young girl. Every possible effort he
made to keep up his strength in order to reach the land. He heard
Clara sigh, and perceived that a kind of convulsive shuddering had
seized her; and he held her the tighter. A single heavy wave broke
over them--the current lifted them. The water was so clear, though
deep, that Joergen thought for a moment he could see the shoals of
mackerel beneath; or was it Leviathan himself who was waiting to
swallow them? The clouds cast a shadow over the water, then again came
the dancing sunbeams; harshly-screaming birds, in flocks, wheeled over
him; and the wild ducks that, heavy and sleepy, allow themselves to
drive on with the waves, flew up in alarm from before the swimmer. He
felt that his strength was failing; but the shore was close at hand,
and help was coming, for a boat was near. Just then he saw distinctly
under the water a white, staring figure; a wave lifted him, the figure
came nearer, he felt a violent blow, it became night before his
eyes--all had disappeared for him.

There lay, partially imbedded in the sand-bank, the wreck of a ship;
the sea rolled over it, but the white figure-head was supported by an
anchor, the sharp iron of which stuck up almost to the surface of the
water. It was against this that Joergen had struck himself when the
current had driven him forward with sudden force. Stunn