r a holy relic that the
bright-eyed couple possessed.

They ran through Vilna, on through flat stretches of Courland to Libau,
where they saw the sea. They sat and stared at it for a whole day,
talking little but watching it with wide, wondering eyes. And they
stared at the great ships that came rocking in from distant ports,
their sides gray with the salt from the big combers which they had
battled with.

No wonder this America of ours is big. We draw the brave ones from the
old lands, the brave ones whose dreams are like the guiding sign that
was given to the Israelites of old--a pillar of cloud by day, a pillar
of fire by night.

The harbor master spoke to Ivan and Anna as they watched the restless
waters.

"Where are you going, children?"

"To America," answered Ivan.

"A long way. Three ships bound for America went down last month."

"Ours will not sink," said Ivan.

"Why?"

"Because I know it will not."

The harbor master looked at the strange blue eyes of the giant, and
spoke softly. "You have the eyes of a man who sees things," he said.
"There was a Norwegian sailor in the _White Queen_, who had eyes like
yours and he could see death."

"I see life!" said Ivan boldly. "A free life--"

"Hush!" said the harbor master. "Do not speak so loud." He walked
swiftly away, but he dropped a ruble into Anna's hand as he passed
her by. "For luck," he murmured. "May the little saints look after
you on the big waters."

They boarded the ship, and the Dream gave them a courage that
surprised them. There were others going aboard, and Ivan and Anna
felt that those others were also persons who possessed dreams. She
saw the dreams in their eyes. There were Slavs, Poles, Letts, Jews,
and Livonians, all bound for the land where dreams come true. They
were a little afraid--not two per cent of them had ever seen a ship
before--yet their dreams gave them courage.

The emigrant ship was dragged from her pier by a grunting tug and
went floundering down the Baltic Sea. Night came down, and the devils
who, according to the Esthonian fishermen, live in the bottom of the
Baltic, got their shoulders under the stern of the ship and tried to
stand her on her head. They whipped up white combers that sprang on
her flanks and tried to crush her, and the wind played a devil's lament
in her rigging. Anna lay sick in the stuffy women's quarters, and Ivan
could not get near her. But he sent her messages. He told her not to
mind the