Marcelius answered nothing to all this, and they walked on a little. But Frederikke, kind and thoughtful for all her trouble of mind, broke out suddenly:
"Anyhow, you mustn't give him the boat for nothing."
"No, no," said Marcelius.
At the cross roads she gave him her hand, and said, "I must go back now, or he'll be angry. He may have seen the way I went."
And they said good-night and went their ways.
Next day was calm, and the sea smooth. Honest Joachim and his two sons had been up before daybreak, getting the boat over to the tackles at the north side of the island; all the men of the place had come to help, lest the fine new boat should be roughly handled on the way. And there she hung now, a slender beauty, decked out ready for the start.
The old schoolmaster had persuaded his smart young colleague to put off the crossing to Kirkeoen until afternoon, and it was just time. Matters between the newly betrothed seemed little bettered from the night before; they walked far apart along the path, and she that should have been his sweetheart seemed uneasy in her mind. When they came up, Joachim and his men were there. All bared their heads when the two schoolmasters and their companion appeared.
"All ready?" asked Simon.
"All ready," answered Joachim. "As far as we can see."
Then suddenly Frederikke cries anxiously:
"Oh, Marcelius, be careful going down to-day. Can't someone else go down in the boat instead?"
All turned to listen.
"He's well enough used to the work," says Joachim, who was the lad's father.
"It's an ugly thing of a boat with a name on," says Frederikke.
"You don't understand, my child," corrected her father gently. "It's a very fine name indeed."
Then says Simon Rust sharply: "I'll go down in her myself."
All tried to dissuade him, but Simon clambered up and took his place in the boat. Still they begged him not to go, but Simon answered proudly, with finality:
"No need for Frederikke to be anxious now."
"Well, make yourself properly fast," says Joachim, handing a length of line.
