n her delirium wanted to jump from bed, and, at the
physicians' request, Captain Butor appointed one of the well sailors from
the _Roland_ and a sailor from the _Hamburg_ to relieve each other in
keeping constant watch over her.

Each time Frederick went to look after the poor creature, he felt himself
assailed by the temptation to save her forever from the moment of
awakening. From her own lips, while she had still been conscious, he had
heard of all the relatives she had probably lost on the _Roland_, her
husband, three sons, and a daughter-ranging from seven to eighteen years
of age--a sister and her mother. At first her fevered fancy occupied
itself with the shipwreck, her husband, children, and sisters. Later she
seemed to become a child again, reliving her life in her parents' home.
Swallows' nests, a cow, a goat, a meadow, in which there was a haystack
roofed to keep off the rain, figured as important things.

"Would that she passed away in those illusions!" thought Frederick.

Arthur Stoss, transported up-stairs by his faithful Bulke, and Jacob
Fleischmann strolled about on deck, or reclined in the steamer chairs,
which even the trading vessel possessed. Stoss needed some massaging
and patching up, and while the physicians were busy with him, he crowed
and cawed in his most jovial manner:

"I always say you can't destroy weeds. Tanned leather is impervious to
salt water. I am like an ant which can spend a week under water without
dying."

Thanks to Rosa's unwearying care, Ella Liebling escaped with nothing but
a bad cold. Looking very pretty and saucy in her own clothes, which had
been cleaned and dried, the little maiden pried about in every nook and
cranny of the vessel. The skipper granted her a free pass to his bridge,
the engineers to the engine-room. She was even admitted into the great
tube of the propeller-shaft. She was everybody's pet, and all soon became
acquainted with her mother's position in the world and manner of life.

When Ingigerd, after about fifty hours of rest in bed, finally appeared
on deck, wrapped in Frederick's overcoat, the passengers and crew fairly
celebrated the event. The exquisite creature, who had lost her father,
was regarded with the same masculine pity by all the men on board.
Pander, the gallant cabin-boy, converted himself into her shadow. He made
a stool for her feet from an empty box of smoked sprats, and while she
sat talking to Frederick, he stood off at a short di