you want?"

He recognized the men; they were his friends, his fellow-workers,
boatmen, like himself. All surrounded him, gesticulating. An old man,
wizened as a dried plaice, tapped him on the shoulder, and said:

"Dolf, for God's sake! A fellow-creature is being drowned. Help! Perhaps
it's already too late. Strip off your clothes, Dolf."

Dolf looked at the water, the lanterns, the night above him, and the men
who urged him on.

"Comrades," he cried, "before God, I cannot. Riekje is in labor and my
life is not my own."

"Dolf! Help!" cried the old man again, as with trembling hands he
pointed to his dripping clothes. "I have three children, Dolf, yet I
have been in twice. I have no strength left."

Dolf turned to the pale faces which stood in a circle round him.

"Cowards," he cried. "Is there not one among you who will save a
drowning man?"

The greater number bent their heads and shrugged their shoulders,
feeling that they had deserved the reproach.

"Dolf," the old man cried, "as sure's death's death, I shall try again,
if you do not go."