The next moment he was in the water, and vanishing from the eager eyes that watched him into the fast-falling shadows of night. Then came a long silence. The men looked at each other, no one daring to utter the thought which was in every one's mind, while Thyra Petersen hid her face in her hands, and prayed as she had never prayed before.
Meanwhile Captain Petersen, who had told no more than the truth in calling himself a good swimmer, was breasting the waves manfully. But he soon found the difference between attempting a long swim when quite fresh and vigorous, and doing the same thing after a hard night's work, on short allowance of food, and with limbs stiffened by wet and cold. Moreover, the sea, although much quieter than it had been, was still rough enough to tell sorely against him. Before he had gone a mile he felt his strength beginning to fail; but he thought of his wife, and of all the other lives that now depended upon him alone, and struggled desperately onward. But now came a new trouble. In the deepening darkness the island for which he was heading soon disappeared altogether, and he found himself swimming almost at random. Every stroke was now a matter of life and death, and yet each of those strokes might be taken in the wrong direction. It was a terrible thought. Heavier and heavier grew his cramped limbs, harder and harder pressed the merciless sea. He sank—rose—sank again, and as he came up once more, lifted his voice in a despairing cry, feeling that all was over.
"Hist, laddies! there's some ane skirling" (screaming), shouted a hoarse voice near him.
There was a sudden splash of oars, a clamor of many voices, and then a strong hand clutched him as he sank for the last time. So utterly was he spent that he could barely force out the few words needful to tell his story; but these were quite enough for the Orkney fishermen, who at once put about and steered straight for the rock.
It was a glad sight for the weary watchers, when the boat came gliding toward them out of the darkness. But when they recognized their captain, whom they had long since given up for lost, they gathered their last strength for a feeble cheer, while poor Thyra sprang into the boat, and threw her arms round his neck without a word.
So ended Captain Petersen's daring swim, which brought him good in a way that he little expected; for when the news of the feat reached Bergen, the townspeople at once started a subscription to buy him another vessel, in which he is voyaging now.
SOME CURIOUS ART WORKS AND ARTISTS.
The Marquis de Veere once gave each of his household a sufficient quantity of the richest white silk damask for a suit. Charles V. was about to make him a visit, and the marquis wished his court to make a splendid appearance when assisting him to receive the emperor. His painter, Mabuse, who was always in debt, was granted the privilege of seeing to the making of his own suit of clothes. Mabuse, however, sold the damask for a good price, and having made a paper suit, painted it so perfectly to represent the damask that when he appeared in it all were deceived.
When the marquis called the emperor's attention to the beautiful clothing of his court, and asked which suit he most admired, the emperor at once selected that of Mabuse. The joke was then explained to the emperor, but he would not believe that the suit was not of real damask until he had touched it with his hands.