Chapter 4

The old Juno, to which Salvé belonged, was lying at that time at
Sandvigen, and was only waiting for a north-east wind to come out. She
was a square-rigged vessel, with a crew of nineteen hands all told,
which had plied for many years in American waters, and off and on in the
North Sea, and was reckoned at the time one of Arendal's largest craft.
Her arrival or departure was quite an event for the town and
neighbourhood; and to have a berth in her was considered among the
sailors of the district a very high honour indeed--the more so that her
master and principal owner, Captain Beck, was a particularly good chief
to serve under, and a lucky one to boot.

When at last, between ten and eleven o'clock one morning, she weighed
anchor, and before a light north-westerly breeze, with her small sails
set, glided out to sea, the quays were crowded with spectators, the
majority of the crew belonging to the place, and it being generally
known that they were bound on a longer voyage than usual. On board she
had with her still the captain's son, Carl Beck, a smart young naval
officer, with his sister and a small party of their friends, who meant
to land out on the Torungens in the sailing-boat they had in tow. They
wished to remain with her as long as possible, and for the purpose had
made up a party to the islands, where the gentlemen proposed to shoot
some of the sea-fowl, which are to be found out there on the rocks in
swarms at the spring season of the year on their passage north along the
coast.

It was about four o'clock when they passed Little Torungen; and as there
were swells then bursting in white jets upon the reefs, and a line of
dark fire-fringed clouds about the sunset, which looked like heavy
weather coming up, the pleasure party determined to leave the vessel
here, instead of going on, as they had intended, to the larger of the
two islands.

As they went over the side Salvé Kristiansen was standing out on the
forecastle gazing eagerly over to where the barren mass of rock lay like
a dipping hull in the distance, bathed in the evening sun, and with a
fringe of foam round its base; and he could see old Jacob's
granddaughter standing by the wall of the house with the glass. He had
chosen on purpose a conspicuous place, and stood with his back against
the stay, so heavy of heart and sad at having to go away, that it would
have taken very little to make him burst into tears. It seemed to have
dawned upon him all of a sudden that he was in love.

To try whether it was upon him that she was directing the glass, or at
the unusual discharging of freight into the sail-boat, he waved his hat,
and his whole face lighted up with joy as he saw her return his signal.
He took off his hat