of Antwerp."

"Let us have no more of your Holy Virgin at present," the skipper
cried to the passengers. "Put your hands to the scoops and bail the
water out of the boat.--And the rest of you," he went on, addressing
the sailors, "pull with all your might! Now is the time; in the name
of the devil who is leaving you in this world, be your own Providence!
Every one knows that the channel is fearfully dangerous; I have been
to and fro across it these thirty years. Am I facing a storm for the
first time to-night?"

He stood at the helm, and looked, as before, at his boat and at the
sea and sky in turn.

"The skipper always laughs at everything," muttered Thomas.

"Will God leave us to perish along with those wretched creatures?"
asked the haughty damsel of the handsome cavalier.

"No, no, noble maiden. . . . Listen!" and he caught her by the waist
and said in her ear, "I can swim, say nothing about it! I will hold
you by your fair hair and bring you safely to the shore; but I can
only save you."

The girl looked at her aged mother. The lady was on her knees
entreating absolution of the Bishop, who did not heed her. In the
beautiful eyes the knight read a vague feeling of filial piety, and
spoke in a smothered voice.

"Submit yourself to the will of God. If it is His pleasure to take