The Councillor is alarmea,

“Y beg pardon,” said the councillor to the hostess, “but I feel
very unwell ; would you let them get mea fly to go to Christian’s
Haven?”

The woman looked at him and shook her head; then she spoke
to him in German.

The councillor now supposed that she did not understand
Danish, so he repeated his wish in the German language. This,
and his costume, convinced the woman that he was a foreigner.
She soon understood that he felt unwell, and therefore brought
him a jug of water. It certainly tasted a little of sea-water,
though it had been taken from the spring outside.

The councillor leaned his head upon his hand, drew a deep
breath, and thought of all the strange things that were happening
about him. E

“Ts that to-day’s number of the ‘Day’?” he said, quite mechani-
cally, for he saw the woman was putting away a large sheet of
paper. :

She did not understand what he meant, but handed him the