plunge it, as it were,
into the trough of the sea that seemed to yawn for them. At this mighty
upheaval, this sudden outbreak of the wrath of the sea, the company in
the stern turned pale, and sent up a terrible cry.

"We are lost!"

"Oh, not yet!" said the skipper calmly.

As he spoke, the clouds immediately above their heads were torn asunder
by the vehemence of the wind. The gray mass was rent and scattered east
and west with ominous speed, a dim uncertain light from the rift in
the sky fell full upon the boat, and the travelers beheld each other's
faces. All of them, the noble and the wealthy, the sailors and the poor
passengers alike, were amazed for a moment by the appearance of the last
comer. His golden hair, parted upon his calm, serene forehead, fell in
thick curls about his shoulders; and his face, sublime in its sweetness
and radiant with divine love, stood out against the surrounding gloom.
He had no contempt for death; he knew that he should not die. But if at
the first the company in the stern forgot for a moment the implacable
fury of the storm that threatened their lives, selfishness and their
habits of life soon prevailed again.

"How lucky that stupid burgomaster is, not to see the risks we are all
running! He is just like a dog, he will die without a struggle," said
the doctor.

He had scarcely pronounced this highly judicious dictum when the storm
unloosed all its legions. The wind blew from every quarter of the
heavens, the boat span round like a top, and the sea broke in.

"Oh! my poor child! my poor child!... Who will save my baby?" the mother
cried in a heart-rending voice.

"You yourself will save it," the stranger said.

The thrilling tones of that voice went to the young mother's heart and
brought hope with them; she heard the gracious words through all the
whistling of the wind and the shrieks of the passengers.

"Holy Virgin of Good Help, who art at Antwerp, I promise thee a thousand
pounds of wax and a statue, if thou wilt rescue me from this!" cried the
burgher, kneeling upon his bags of gold.

"The Virgin is no more at Antwerp than she is here," was the doctor's
comment on this appeal.

"She is in heaven," said a voice that seemed to come from the sea.

"Who said that?"

"'Tis the devil!" exclaimed the servant. "He is scoffing at the Virgin
of Antwerp."

"Let us have no more of your Holy Virgin at present," the skipper cried
to the passengers. "Put your hands to the sco