the prettiest of any."

Jurgen said nothing, but he thought of a certain maiden of
Skjagen, whom he was soon to visit. The ship set sail for
Christiansand in Norway, and as the wind was favourable it soon
arrived there.

One morning merchant Bronne went out to the lighthouse, which
stands a little way out of Old Skjagen, not far from "Grenen." The
light was out, and the sun was already high in the heavens, when he
mounted the tower. The sand-banks extend a whole mile from the
shore, beneath the water, outside these banks; many ships could be
seen that day, and with the aid of his telescope the old man thought
he descried his own ship, the Karen Bronne. Yes! certainly, there
she was, sailing homewards with Clara and Jurgen on board.

Clara sat on deck, and saw the sand-hills gradually appearing in
the distance; the church and lighthouse looked like a heron and a swan
rising from the blue waters. If the wind held good they might reach
home in about an hour. So near they were to home and all its joys--so
near to death and all its terrors! A plank in the ship gave way,
and the water rushed in; the crew flew to the pumps, and did their
best to stop the leak. A signal of distress was hoisted, but they were
still fully a mile from the shore. Some fishing boats were in sight,
but they were too far off to be of any use. The wind blew towards
the land, the tide was in their favour, but it was all useless; the
ship could not be saved.

Jurgen threw his right arm round Clara, and pressed her to him.
With what a look she gazed up into his face, as with a prayer to God
for help he breasted the waves, which rushed over the sinking ship!
She uttered a cry, but she felt safe and certain that he would not
leave her to sink. And in this hour of terror and danger Jurgen felt
as the king's son did, as told in the old song:

"In the hour of peril when most men fear,
He clasped the bride that he held so dear."

How glad he felt that he was a good swimmer! He worked his way
onward with his feet and one arm, while he held the young girl up
firmly with the other. He rested on the waves, he trod the water--in
fact, did everything he could think of, in order not to fatigue
himself, and to reserve strength enough to reach land. He heard
Clara sigh, and felt her shudder convulsively, and he pressed her more
closely to him. Now and then a wave rolled over them, the current
lifted them; the water, although deep, was so clear that for a