ff the
rocks which had held her up, and went down so quickly that the captain,
turning at the shouts of his men, just caught a glimpse of her topmasts
vanishing under water.

The situation of the shipwrecked crew was now dreary enough. Alone upon
a bare rock in the midst of a stormy sea, with no means of escape, and
no food but the few brine-soaked biscuits in their pockets, there seemed
to be nothing left for them but to give themselves up and die. But, of
all men living, a sailor is the least apt to think his case hopeless,
however dark it may appear. Having just been saved from apparently
certain death, the stout-hearted seamen were in no mood to despair so
easily; and settling themselves snugly in a sheltered cleft of the rock,
they ate their scanty meal (a good share of which had been reserved for
Mrs. Petersen) as cheerily as if they were lying at anchor in Bergen
Harbor.

Just as the meal ended, the fog suddenly rolled away like a curtain, and
the last gleam of the setting sun showed them an island several miles to
the north, on the shore of which the keen-eyed captain made out a few
white specks that looked like fishermen's huts.

"Lads," cried he, "if the wind rises again, it'll blow us all into the
sea; and even if it don't, we shall freeze to death if we stick here all
night, with no room to move about. There's just _one_ chance left for
us, and I'm going to take it. Somebody must swim to that island for
help, and as I believe I'm the best swimmer among us, I'll be the one to
do it."

"Olaf!" cried his wife, catching him by the arm, "you won't think of it!
It's certain death!"

"Pooh, pooh!" said the captain, cheerily. "I haven't swum across Bergen
Bay and back for nothing. It's certain death to sit here and freeze, if
you like; but you'll soon see me coming back with half a dozen stout
fellows, and we'll all have a good supper before the night's out. Keep
your heart up, dear. God bless you!"

The next moment he was in the water, and vanishing from the eager eyes
that watched him into the fast-falling shadows of night. Then came a
long silence. The men looked at each other, no one daring to utter the
thought which was in every one's mind, while Thyra Petersen hid her face
in her hands, and prayed as she had never prayed before.

Meanwhile Captain Petersen, who had told no more than the truth in
calling himself a good swimmer, was breasting the waves manfully. But he
soon found the difference between