CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.
IN THE GULDEN STRASSE AGAIN.
That was all.
"Sail ho!" shouted Eric in stentorian tones, his voice penetrating through the entire valley, and reaching probably the remotest extent of the island.
The shout was quite enough for Fritz; for, hardly taking time to dress, he at once rushed down to join his brother on the beach.
"Where is she ?" he cried out anxiously, when yet some distance off.

He panted out the question as he ran.
"Right off the bay!" sang out Eric, in quite as great a state of frenzied excitement.

"She's hull down to windward now; but she's rising every moment on the horizon." "Where ?" repeated Fritz, now alongside of the other.

"I can't see her." "There," said Eric, pointing to a tiny white speck in the distance, which to Fritz's eyes seemed more like the wing of a sea bird than anything else.
"How can you make her out to be the _Pilot's Bride_ ?" was his next query.

"I can barely discern a faint spec far away; and that might be anything!" Eric smiled.
"Himmel!" he cried with an infinite superiority.