fter some time they did
manage to row in a fashion.

"I think we must be approaching the shore," observed the Count. "It
looks nearer than it did."

"So it ought, since we have been rowing with might and main for the last
two hours," said the Baron, wiping the perspiration from his brow. "I
wish that we had waited at Marken till we should have found a passage on
board some vessel, or obtained the assistance of one of the islanders;
this is heavy work, especially as we have come away without provisions."

"So we have," cried the Count. "Oh dear! oh dear! If we ever reach the
shore, I shall be very much inclined to register a vow never again to
tempt the stormy ocean."

"Regrets are useless at present; let us get to the shore," said the
Baron.

But they rowed and rowed away in vain. Evening was approaching, and,
though they had enjoyed a good breakfast, they were desperately hungry,
and there appeared every probability that they would have to spend the
night on the water. Fortunately it was calm, or they would have been in
a still worse condition. Looking up, they at length saw an island, or a
point of land with a tower on it.

"That must be one of the places on the coast," observed the Count; "let
us try to reach it."

"But if we sit with our backs to the bows, as we have been hitherto
doing, we shall not see it," observed the Baron. "Let us stand up and
row forward; then, perhaps, we shall go straighter than we have been
doing."

The Count agreed, and they rowed thus for some time.

Suddenly they were startled by a voice which in mournful accents said:
"Oh, take me on board; take me on board!"

So great was the Baron's alarm that he nearly sank down to the bottom of
the boat, when on looking over his shoulder, what should he see but the
countenance of the one-eyed mariner, who was endeavouring to haul
himself on board.

"Are you yourself, or are you a ghost?" asked the Baron, in trembling
accents.

"Can it be? Can it be our former shipmate?" cried the Count.

"I am indeed, most noble gentlemen, that unfortunate and ill-used
individual," answered the one-eyed mariner; for it was he himself,
though his countenance was as pale as if he had really been a ghost, and
his visage was elongated, the result of the sufferings he had gone
through. Satisfied that he was a mortal being like themselves, the
Count and the Baron at length assisted him to get into the boat.

"How did you escape?" asked the Ba