and her babe, while all who watched them wept, save that cruel King.

So they floated on and on, and the chest danced up and down upon the
billows, and the babe slept in its mother's arms. But the poor mother
could not sleep, but watched and wept, and she sang to her babe as
they floated.

Now they are past the last blue headland and in the open sea. There is
nothing round them but waves, and the sky and the wind. But the waves
are gentle and the sky is clear, and the breeze is tender and low.

So a night passed and a day, and a long day it was to Danæ, and
another night and day beside, till Danæ was faint with hunger and
weeping, and yet no land appeared.

And all the while the babe slept quietly, and at last poor Danæ
drooped her head and fell asleep likewise, with her cheek against her
babe's.

After a while she was awakened suddenly, for the chest was jarring and
grinding, and the air was full of sound. She looked up, and over her
head were mighty cliffs, and around her rocks and breakers and flying
flakes of foam.

She clasped her hands together and shrieked aloud for help. And when
she cried, help met her, for now there came over the rocks a tall and
stately man, and looked down wondering upon poor Danæ, tossing about
in the chest among the waves.

He wore a rough cloak, and on his head a broad hat to shade his face,