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They said nothing more, but went out towards their houses among

the sand-hills. All at once, in front of one of the houses where the

sea grass did not keep the sand down with its twining roots, what

seemed to be a column of smoke rose up. A gust of wind rushed

between the hills, hurling the particles of sand high into the air;

another gust, and the strings of fish hung up to dry flapped and

beat violently against the walls of the cottage; then everything was

quiet once more, and the sun shone with renewed heat.

    The man and his wife went into the cottage. They had soon taken

off their Sunday clothes and come out again, hurrying over the dunes

which stood there like great waves of sand suddenly arrested in

their course, while the sandweeds and dune grass with its bluish

stalks spread a changing colour over them. A few neighbours also

came out, and helped each other to draw the boats higher up on the

beach. The wind now blew more keenly, it was chilly and cold, and when

they went back over the sand-hills, sand and little sharp stones

blew into their faces. The waves rose high, crested with white foam,

and the wind cut off their crests, scattering the foam far and wide.

    Evening came; there was a swelling roar in the air, a wailing or

moaning like the voices of despairing spirits, that sounded above

the thunder of the waves. The fisherman's little cottage was on the

very margin, and the sand rattled against the window panes; every

now and then a violent gust of wind shook the house to its foundation.

It was dark, but about midnight the moon would rise. Later on the

air became clearer, but the storm swept over the perturbed sea with

undiminished fury; the fisher folks had long since gone to bed, but in

such weather there was no chance of closing an eye. Presently there

was a tapping at the window; the door was opened, and a voice said:

    "There's a large ship stranded on the farthest reef."

    In a moment the fisher people sprung from their beds and hastily

dressed themselves. The moon had risen, and it was light enough to

make the surrounding objects visible to those who could open their

eyes in the blinding clouds of sand; the violence of the wind was

terrible, and it was only possible to pass among the sand-hills if one

crept forward between the gusts; the salt spray flew up from the sea

like down, and the ocean foamed like a roaring cataract towards the

beach. Only a practised eye could discern the vessel out in the

offing; she was a fine brig, and the waves now lifted her over the

reef, three or four cables' length out of the usual channel. She drove

towards the shore, struck on the second reef, and remained fixed.

    It was impossible to render assistance; the sea rushed in upon the

vessel, making a clean breach over her. Those on shore thought they

heard cries for help from those on board, and could plainly

distinguish the busy but useless efforts made by the stranded sailors.

Now a wave came rolling onward. It fell with enormous force on the

bowsprit, tearing it from the vessel, and the stern was lifted high

above the water. Two people were seen to embrace and plunge together

into the sea, and the next moment one of the largest waves that rolled

towards the sand-hills threw a body on the beach. It was a woman;

the sailors said that she was quite dead, but the women thought they

saw signs of life in her, so the stranger was carried across the

sand-hills to the fisherman's cottage. How beautiful and fair she was!

She must be a great lady, they said.

    They laid her upon the humble bed; there was not a yard of linen

on it, only a woollen coverlet to keep the occupant warm.

    Life returned to her, but she was delirious, and knew nothing of

what had happened or where she was; and it was better so, for

everything she loved and valued lay buried in the sea. The same

thing happened to her ship as to the one spoken of in the song about

"The King of England's Son."