n! do you understand?" said Toennes, who anxiously
noticed that the motions of the vessel were becoming more and more
dangerous, while he needed all his strength to keep the boat clear of
the wreck.

An answer came from the bark, but he could not catch it. In this
moment Toennes recalled the day when he rowed the captain out on the
bay to the brig. His next thought was of Nanna. Oh, if she knew where
they were!

And at this thought the mate's breast was filled with conflicting
emotions. The dear blessed girl! Oh, if her father would only come!

"Captain!" cried Toennes; "Captain Spang! for God's sake, come! Leave
those papers alone. The vessel is sinking. We may at any moment--"

He paused.

The captain stood at the stern-sheets. At his side was Prussian,
squinting down into the boat. There was an entirely strange expression
in Andreas Spang's face; a double expression--one moment hard and
defiant, the next almost solemn.

The sou'wester had fallen from his old head. His scanty hairs
fluttered in the wind. He held in his hand a parcel of papers and a
coil of rope. He pointed toward the brig.

"There!" he cried, throwing the package and the rope down to Tonnes.
"Give the skipper this new line for his trouble. He has used plenty of
rope for us. You go back. I stay here. Give--my--love--to the girl at
home.--You and she--You two--God bless you!"

"Captain!" cried Toennes in affright; "you are sick; come, let me--"

He prepared to climb on board.

Captain Spang lifted his hand threateningly, and Prussian barked
furiously.

"Stay down there, boy, I say! The vessel and I, we belong together.
You shall take care of the girl. Good-by!"

The Anna Dorothea rolled heavily over on one side, righted again, and
then began to plunge her head downwards, like a whale that, tired of
the surface, seeks rest at the bottom. The crew of the brig hauled in
the lines of the boat. Tossed on the turbid sea, Toennes saw his old
skipper leaning against the helm, the dog at his side. His gray hairs
fluttered in the wind as if they wafted a last farewell; and down with
vessel and dog went the old skipper--down into the wild sea that so
long had borne him on its waves.

THE PRINCE'S SONG

From 'Once Upon a Time'

Princess, I come from out a land that lieth--
I know not in what arctic latitude:
Though high in the bleak north, it never sigheth
For sunny smiles; they wait not to be wooed.
Our privilege we know: