or, The Silver Skates 363

race: now she is in earnest, or, rather, something within her
has determined to win. That lithe little form makes no effort ;
but it cannot stop, — not until the goal is passed !

In vain the crier lifts his voice: he cannot be heard. He
has no news to tell: it is already ringing through the crowd, —
Gretel has won the silver skates !

Like a bird, she has flown over the ice; like a bird, she
looks about her in a timid, startled way. She longs to dart to
the sheltered nook where her father and mother stand. But
Hans is beside her: the girls are crowding round. Hilda’s
kind, joyous voice breathes in her ear. From that hour, none
will despise her. Goose-girl or not, Gretel stands acknowl-
edged Queen of the Skaters.

With natural pride, Hans turns to see if Peter van Holp is
witnessing his sister’s triumph. Peter is not looking toward
them at all. He is kneeling, bending his troubled face low,
and working hastily at his skate-strap. Hans is beside him
at once,

‘* Are you in trouble, mynheer?”

“Ah, Hans! that you? Yes, my fun is over. I tried to
tighten my strap, to make a new hole; and this botheration of
a knife has cut it nearly in two.”

‘“‘Mynheer,” said Hans, at the same time pulling off a
skate, “ you must use my strap! ”

“Not I, indeed, Hans Brinker!” cried Peter, looking up,
“though I thank you warmly. Go to your post, my friend:
the bugle will sound in a minute.”

‘“‘Mynheer,” pleaded Hans, in a husky voice, “you have
called me your friend. Take this strap — quick! There is
not an instant to lose. I shall not skate this time: indeed, I
am out of practice. Mynheer, you must take it;” and Hans,