What a glorious ride that was! Nothing around but the wild surging spray, the wind blowing in her face, brightening her cheeks, and tossing her fair hair about. Above, the clouds, dark and heavy, tore along--everywhere movement, reckless, turbulent movement. What a wild ride it was! Far, far in the distance appeared a dark speck. As it came nearer it turned out to be a ship with broken mast, broken by the waves which leaped over its deck again and again. People were on it, for shouts came from it borne along on the wind. A fearful squall arose as from the very bosom of the Ocean. Lightning played around the doomed ship. Half blinded by it, and bewildered by the deafening noise of thunder, Dulcie just caught a glimpse of the Fish-King in the water near, before burying her face in her hands to escape the blinding glare of the second flash. Starting suddenly at the terrifying clap of thunder that followed, she lost her balance and fell off the Sea-serpent's back headlong into the surging waters. For some time she was tossed about, sometimes swimming, sometimes floating, enjoying the excitement of the thing, knowing she couldn't drown, and expecting every moment to see something of her huge brother, when all of a sudden she found herself right in the middle of a shoal of fish. She was startled to find, too, that like them, she had been caught in a large net from which, swim and search as she would, she could find no means of escape. Restlessly with her fellow-captives she turned this way and that in vain hope of freedom. She knew she must be adding to the salt water around, for she felt so miserably helpless and lonely, and a heavy sob now and again escaped her. Here indeed was a lack of freedom and no mistake, for the poor fish as well as for herself! Never, never again, she said to herself, would she beg for fish for tea if this was what they had to endure. Round and round inside the net she swam, backwards, forwards, upwards, downwards--no outlet was there. If only she could find the way she got in! The thread was so hard and strong, too, that she could do nothing, tear at it with her little hands as she would. She had nothing sharp about her either, not even a pin. The sea became calmer by degrees, but Dulcie's anxiety grew, and her impatience with it, till the sound of men's voices from above raised her excitement to fever pitch. "Oh dear, oh dear! It must be the fisher people!" And the thought that the little swimming creatures darting about in terrified jerks would soon be motionless for ever, helped to increase her distress. "Hold hard, Bill. Ain't it heavy!" said a gruff voice. "My missus won't be sorry," answered his mate. The net was actually being hauled up, and Dulcie, beating against it with her arms and struggling hard, was being hauled up with it. Her sleeve had got rucked up--the catseyes glistened. "I wish--oh what? I can't think--to be something very small indeed--oh quick!"