Ugly little cramp-pains streamed up his finger,
up his palm, up his arm, till they reached into his shoulder, and down the
back of his neck. It seemed hours since the little brother went away. He
felt very lonely, and the hurt in his arm grew and grew. He watched the
road with all his eyes, but no one came in sight. Then he leaned his head
against the dike, to rest his shoulder.
As his ear touched the dike, he heard the voice of the great sea,
murmuring. The sound seemed to say,--
"I am the great sea. No one can stand against me. What are you, a little
child, that you try to keep me out? Beware! Beware!"
Hans' heart beat in heavy knocks. Would they never come? He was
frightened.
And the water went on beating at the wall, and murmuring, "I will come
through, I will come through, I will get you, I will get you,
run--run--before I come through!"
Hans started to pull out his finger; he was so frightened that he felt as
if he must run for ever. But that minute he remembered how much depended
on him; if he pulled out his finger, the water would surely make the hole
bigger, and at last break down the dike, and the sea would come in on all
the land and houses. He set his teeth, and stuck his finger tighter than
ever.
"You shall _not_ come through!" he whispered, "I will _not_ run!"
At that moment, he heard a far-off shout.
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