wounds, which, although severe, were not | with a harsh creak, and a jolt, and a jar, dangerous, and promised to speedily heal, and he was supplied with nutritious food and a good bed. By a singular coïncidence, it happened that the commanding officer of the garrison of Nyborg, was Baron Leutenberg, who three years before had been intrusted with the temporary charge of the great castle of Kronborg at Elsinore, when Lars Vonved was there in confinement. The latter escaped, and poor Baron Leutenberg was soundly reprimanded and disgraced for his presumed negligence. It may therefore be supposed that he now derived grim satisfaction from the fact that Vonved was once more in his charge, and he resolved that this time escape should be literally impossible. He lost no time in dispatching a special courier to Copenhagen, announcing the seizure of Vonved, and requesting instructions for his disposal. Meanwhile what was happening at Svendborg? When the eil-wagon was in the act of leaving the town, numbers of the people pressed as closely around it as the escort permitted, eager to obtain a glimpse of the renowned Rover who had so long had his unsuspected "home" in their neighborhood, as "Captain Vinterdalen." Foremost in the crowd was a fisherman, whose emotion was so great that he trembled from head to foot, and pressed his huge horny hand with all his might over his heart, to subdue, were it possible, its violent beating. That fisherman was Mads Neilsen. He had loitered late at Svendborg, and was just setting forth to walk down to the beach where his skiff was moored in order to return to his solitary dwelling on the Island of Thoro, when the astounding intelligence of Vonved's capture was disseminated. At the moment when the eil-wagon and its escort of dragoons got into motion to depart, Lars Vonved gazed quickly and searchingly at the crowd. His eye caught that of his devoted adherent, and the vivid glance they interchanged, unobserved, or at least not understood by any spectator, revealed as much to each other as though they had spoken aloud. Vonved, too, fettered and guarded as he was, contrived to make an impressive sign to which Mads instantly responded. One more eloquent glance, and one more secret sign was exchanged as the eil-wagon, commenced its long midnight journey. The excited mob ran some distance along with it and its escort, and Mads Neilsen was suddenly left alone. He stood awhile, rooted to the spot, and then with a hoarse cry of grief and rage, he rushed towards the beach at his utmost speed, cast off the chain which secured his pram to a little jetty, and rowed towards his islandhome with the abnormal strength of a madman. Landing at the cove opposite his solitary dwelling, he bounded to the latterburst open its door with a simultaneous blow of his fist and kick of his foot-and disappeared for a few minutes. On coming forth, he set up a light framework in the open air, and applied a torch to the fuse of a rocket. Upward, with a hissing roar, sprang the fiery signal — upward, higher and higher, not vertically, but bowed seaward by the force of the howling blast, until its projectile power was expended, its extreme altitude attained, and then it burst and scattered small blue balls and crimson stars in the heart of the murky storm-clouds. A second and a third rocket followed. Then Mads Neilsen paused, and kneeling on the ground, gazed seaward with absorbing expectation. Several minutes elapsed, when lo! miles out on the Baltic, three brilliant rockets shot up in answer to his warning signal, and after a little pause two blue lights were displayed at the distance of probably a mile from each other. Mads immediately responded by burning a blue light in turn, and his business and duty here was now done. It was the Skildpadde which had fired the three answering rockets, and she and her satellite, the Little Amalia, had each exhibited a blue light. Well-only too well did they comprehend the meaning of Mads' signals. Mads Neilsen's half-decked fishing lugger was snugly anchored in a little creek near to his dwelling, and ready for immediate service. Boarding her from his pram, which he then permitted to drift away, he hoisted and sheeted the fore lug-sail, and this done, he severed with one stroke of a hatchet the hempen cable, and running to the tiller, put the lugger before the wind. She scudded seaward until a sufficient offing was gained, and then Mads bore up and skillfully beat back to Svendborg. Hastily securing his ves sel to the jetty, he sprang ashore, not | ble escape from the dwelling, and also to more than one hour having elapsed since prevent any alarm being communicated to his departure in the pram. He imme- the beleaguered outlaw. The rest of the diately entered the town. soldiers, under command of Captain Ingergaard, then cautiously and noiselessly ascended to the crown of the Cairn, and some being stationed at every lower window and outlet, the others, headed by Ingergaard, obtained admittance at the main-door, seized and gagged the terrified and astounded servants, and forced their way to the parlor, where they surprised Vonved and his wife. The result has been described. Mads was, on ordinary occasions, slow and ponderous in his movements, yet he invariably approved himself, on an emergency, a man of prompt action, alert, energetic, decided, quick to plan, resolute to execute, and fearless and determined to the verge of desperation. That he had thus breathlessly hastened back to Svendborg for some definite purpose, and to perform some daring and momentous deed, was apparent. In the interval between the seizure of Lars Vonved and his departure under escort to Nyborg, the manner in which his capture had been effected became publicly known, and Mads of course heard it, like every body else. It appeared that a man named Knap Nealen, who had formerly been a subordinate officer in the revenue service, whence he was dismissed for various irregularities, and who had subsequently led a dissipated and dishonorable if not dishonest life, had seen one of the lithograph portraits of Lars Vonved which the Danish authorities sent to all the seaports and chief towns of the country. Nealen, like many of the inhabitants of Svendborg, had occasionally marveled at the seclusion of the family at King's Cairn, and especially at the singular personal isolation of Captain Vinterdalen himself, when the latter from time to time came home. He happened to have once or twice seen Captain Vinterdalen, and knew that he was at present sojourning at the Cairn. When, therefore, he saw the portrait, he instantly was struck with its resemblance to Vinterdalen, and in the course of a few hours he called at the Cairn on some pretense, and managed to see Vinterdalen, walking in the garden. He now was quite certain that his suspicion was well founded, and he went directly to the commanding military officer of the district, and denounced the hitherto unsuspected stranger as being the veritable Baltic Rover. At first the officer was incredulous, but becoming convinced, he prepared his measures with great prudence and secresy. Immediately the long twi light had entirely faded away, he swiftly marched an entire company of troops down to King's Cairn, and stationed numerous sentinels round the base of the Cairn so as to effectually cut off all possi When Mads Neilsen reëntered Svendborg, he found small groups of people yet standing at the corners of the streets, eagerly discussing the exciting event which had so recently happened, and he either openly joined or loitered near each group just long enough to enable him to recognize the persons composing it, and then he passed rapidly on, not omitting to scrutinize every individual he met on his way. At length he beheld the very man whom he sought-none other than Knap Nealen, the informer. He and Nealen knew each other very well, by sight, and had often met at the same alehouse which Nealen had only just quitted; for the officer commanding the troops had given him a few dalers as earnest of the large reward offered by government to whomsoever would give information which might lead to the capture of Vonved, and Nealen had been spending the money with a number of boon companions, and relating over and over again every particular of Vonved's seizure, and boasting his own penetration, and his skill in turning his discovery so promptly and successfully to account. "Hola! Mads Neilsen, is't thou?" bawled Nealen, who was perhaps equally excited by the spirits he had drunk and the reward he had earned for his achievement, but was by no means intoxicated, and perfectly knew what he was about. " "I've hammered the nail on the head this time, eh, Mads ?" "That you have, Herr Nealen: you'll never look back again after this grand night's work!" "Well said, my old man o' the sea! You now perceive what it is to have brains and judgment. Why, there's your. self, Mads, you've known these Vinter. dalens ever since they came to Svendborg, and must have often seen the Captain, and yet I'll warrant you never dreamt that he was Vonved the Rover?" "How was it likely that a poor fellow like me could possibly think of such a thing? It is not every one who has such a head as yours, Herr Nealen. No man in Svendborg but yourself would ever have made such a discovery." Mads spake deliberately and gravely, and with a sententious air of profound conviction, and he adroitly managed to imply, both by his tones and gestures, how he respected and admired the skill and sagacity of Herr Nealen. "And yet you, Mads, pass for a longheaded fellow," complacently remarked Nealen. "Ouf! I'm a child compared to you, Herr Nealen-a baby! I think I grow stupider every day. How much is your reward to be? I heard five hundred dalers is it really so much as that?" : "Five hundred !" contemptuously exclaimed Knap Nealen. "Only five hundred for performing such a service to my king and country? Add two thousand to your five hundred!” "What! two thousand five hundred dalers ?" "Not a skilling less!" "Rix?" interrogated Mads. "Rix! How! do you think our great and glorious sovereign would reward his faithful subject with beggarly rixes? No, species, every one of 'em. Two thousand five hundred specie-dalers, my fishy friend!" "The soldiers go shares with you?" "Not a daler, not a mare, not a skilling! No, no, 'tis all mine." "And will they really pay you that immense reward ?" "Will the sun shine to-morrow? Really pay me! Why, you old grampus, d'ye think there are not dalers enough in King Frederick's treasury? I'm now a creditor of His Majesty: ha! ha! isn't it droll and pleasant? I, Knap Nealen, a creditor of King Frederick! His glori ous Majesty owes me two thousand four hundred and ninety-seven specie-dalersfor Colonel Bilved gave me three on account to-night." "Oh! two thousand four hundred and ninety-seven specie - you said specie? -dalers! O-oh!" ejaculated Mads, in a tone expressive of intense admiration, not unmingled with envy. "And to think that I-even I-might have earned that enormous sum had I possessed a quarter as much sagacity as you! I've been a dunder-headed dolt and a fool! Ay, by Balder's keel! I've been as stupid as a torsk ?"* "Never mind, old Blowhard! you can't help it, you know. "Tis true enough you are stupid as a torsk, and very thankful you ought to be that torsk are stupid, or else they never would let you catch 'em!" exclaimed Nealen, half-insolently, halfgood-naturedly. "But so long as there are plenty of torsk-fish in the sea, you'll not starve, my scaly comrade!" "Well, I hope not," humbly murmured Mads. "Ah!" sighed he, "what a great man you will become, Herr Nealen! Your two thousand five hundred species will not be all your reward, I'll warrant. His blessed Majesty, our mighty sovereign, King Frederick - may he live till he grows old!-will give you some grand office as an additional reward. Yes, yes, 'twould be high treason to doubt that! Ja! you will become a very great man a king's councilor, maybe, who knows?" "Well, Mads, I begin to fancy you're not quite so stupid as a torsk, after all. Yes; I dare say my king and my country will appreciate my services, and prove grateful." At this moment hawk-eyed Mads perceived several stragglers approaching, and he instantly cried in an earnest whisper: "Herr Nealen, I've something to say to you-something very important. Will you please to come this way?" Nealen carelessly assented, and wily Mads led him towards the jetty. "Herr Nealen," said he, as soon as he was certain they were alone, and unobserved; "can you tell me whether his Majesty would reward any faithful subject who could deliver up one of Vonved's followers?" "Eh, what d'ye mean, Mads ?" cried Nealen, perfectly sobered at the mere hint. "I mean what I say." "Certainly, there would be a reward." "How much?" "I can not tell, but it would doubtless be in proportion to the reward I shall get for the capture of Vonved himself." "Good. I may, and I must confide in A "torsk" is a stock-fish, and Mads' familiar Scandinavian exclamation is equivalent to the com mon English phrase of "as silly as a goose !" you, Herr Nealen. I know where one of Vonved's men is at this very moment." "Splickerwicklen! and who is he? An officer or a seaman in the Rover's service ?" "That is my secret, Herr Nealen!" responded Mads, with a mysterious air. "And where is he?" "He is where I can find him at any moment. Now see! I am only a poor fisherman-and stupid as a torsk, as you ave just truly remarked, but my dull faculties are sharpened by this night's work. I perhaps could capture this follower of Vonved myself and perhaps I could not; but even if I did seize him, I'm not safe to receive the reward due. I'm only an ignorant and simple fisherman, and perhaps they would cheat me, after all, but they couldn't cheat a man like you, Herr Nealen. See! this is what I propose. If you and I capture the man, will you give me one half the reward ?" "Tordner! ay, will I!" eagerly cried Nealen, whose great success that night had whetted his aptitude and appetite for similar exploits, albeit on a smaller scale. "You won't take advantage of a poor simple fisherman ?" hesitatingly remarked Mads. "You will give me my fair share of the reward ?" "Yes, you suspicious old -- old torsk! I swear I will, by Odin's sword!" "Your word is sufficient, Herr Nealen," humbly cried Mads. "He is yonder." "Where ?" "Thoro!" impressively whispered Mads. "Thoro! why I thought you were the only dweller on Thorö ?" my 66 Ay, Herr Nealen, but he is there this night, and if you will go with meboat is at the jetty here-in less than one half-hour, with this wind, I can bring you face to face to him." ble his follower might show at least proportionate desperation and valor. "We are two to one: besides, we shall manage to surprise and secure him unawares," confidently replied Mads. "Is he armed ?" "Only with a dagger-knife." "Enough to slay a regiment! Oh! trust to me, Herr Nealen. I'm very slow, but I'm very sure. I've arranged all in my mind, and will tell you every thing when the time for action arrives. Come along now there is no time to be lost. We must do the business before day dawn." "Have with you, old Viking!" emphatically responded Nealen, giving Mads a hearty slap on the shoulder. "You are not a torsk, after all, I begin to fancy, but a sly old dog-fish. Yes, yes, you only drink water when you can't get brændiviin; and you only eat herrings when you can't get beef." Had not the darkness impenetrably vailed the expression Mads Neilsen's face wore at that moment, Knap Nealen would probably have derived for the first time a very startling insight into the true character of the fisherman. When they arrived at the jetty, and Mads silently motioned his companion to step on board his fishing-boat, Nealen hesitated, and looked upward to the murky tempestuous sky, and seaward to the wind-lashed waters of the bay, and landward to the dimly discernible town of Svendborg. he. 66 ""Tis a wild blasty night," muttered "All the better for our enterprise." "It blows fearfully hard!" "But fairly for us, Herr Nealen." ""Twill be infernally rough out yonder: we shall be tossed like a cork on the yeasty waves." "As safely as I trust to King Frederick's. Hold, though! will he show fight, think you ?" rather anxiously questioned Nealen, who suddenly recollected how desperately Vonved resisted a whole roomful of soldiers, and that it was possi-is, East Sea. *Scandinavians call the Baltic the Ostsee, that THERE is a familiar story told of an | densomely minute, and observances bitIrish lad, who assigned as the cause of his tardy appearance at school one slippery morning, that for every step he had taken forward, he had slidden two steps back; and who, when asked how at that rate he could ever have reached the school-room door at all, was shrewd enough to give the equally ready reply that he had bethought himself at last to turn round and go the other way. Fable or no fable, it well emblems the frequent course of social progress. We take one step in the right direction, but it proves in some respect or other a false step; and ere long we find that in very deed our motion has been a retrograde one, that we have lost immeasurably more than we have gained, and that there is no better resource than to turn us right round, and let our future borrow from what there was of good in the past. The proverbial difficulty of keeping to the vid media is by no means diminished even in what we are so prone to think, if not to call, this wiser age. In nothing, perhaps, is the folly of extremes more manifest at the present time than in respect to female education and female manners. The discipline of former days was characterized undoubtedly by far too much of the precise and the unreasonably methodical. It was too stiff and starched. It prescribed laws which were bur terly grievous to be borne. It laid a crushing hand on the buoyant spirit of youth, and sternly restrained all the ebullitions of spontaneous impulse. Its highest aim was to mold every character alike, with the same heavy-handed pressure, into the same unmeaning monotony of form. This aim was not always realized; else the world had sooner grown weary, and shaken off the tyrant's yoke. The evil was at length palpable, and its cause ultimately discerned. Remedies were vigorously and determinately applied. New theories of tuition were propounded, new plans were tried, and new results secured. The old régime is all but exploded. We may congratulate ourselves that Scylla is now avoided; we clear the rock; we are in no danger of striking. But meanwhile we forget Charybdis, and are rapidly nearing its destructive vortex. In our laudable efforts to relax discipline, we are on the verge of entirely renouncing it. We have eased the overtightened rein, but we have well-nigh lost the power to guide, and to check, and to support our onward-bounding steed. We have rightly learned to consult the happiness of the young, but we are going too far when we end by indulg ing every caprice. "I like slang words," says a juvenile who has yet a twelve |