Chapter 6 - Page 2

strain his eyes after the streak of land to the north
which was to be made out on clear days from the maintop-gallant
mast-head, and which of course would be the coast of Norway. The dress,
the silk handkerchiefs, the rings, and what he should say to
Elizabeth--whether he should formally request a private interview with
her, or wait till an opportunity offered--were running incessantly in
his head. And particularly what he should say to her seemed now, often
as he had thought it over during the long voyage and settled it to his
satisfaction, to present many points of difficulty. He must go down then
to his seaman's chest and see if the things were still there all right,
and whether the moths might not have got into them; the last inspection,
when he unfolded the stuff in his bunk, being conducted with uncommon
precautions.

At last there came a prospect of release in the shape of thick weather,
and a southerly gale setting on the Norwegian coast. The ice too had for
a day or two previously begun to show blue patches of water here and
there, and when it was dark that evening they felt themselves free once
more.

In spite of the salt water and the rain, which he had to wipe off his
face every minute, Salvé went to his look-out post forward that night,
and stood there humming to himself, whilst the rest of the crew who were
on duty slopped up and down on the deck-cargo below, in sea-boots and
dripping oilskins, or sheltered themselves, as best they could, under
the lee of the round-house or forecastle. They had been hard at work all
day, making openings in the ice; and now the groaning and whistling
among the blocks and ropes, that were increasing every minute, gave
little promise of rest for the night.

The captain stood upon the poop in his thick overcoat and drenched fur
cap, with his trumpet under his arm, looking anxiously through the
night-glass from time to time, and his voice sounded unusually stern.
There lay before him in the dark, blustering, winter night a veritable
David's choice. The strong southerly current, aided by the gale, was
fast carrying him in under the Norwegian coast; while on the other hand,
if he tried to beat to windward, he risked coming into collision with
the ice-floes. Added to that, he was not very clear as to his position;
and as the gale increased, he began to pace restlessly backwards and
forwards, addressing, every now and then, a word down to one of the
helmsmen, whose forms could be seen by the gleam from the binnacle.

"How's her head, Jens?"

"Sou'-west, sir; she'll lay no higher."

"H'm! more and more on land!" he muttered, the perspiration coming out
upon his forehead under his fur cap, which, in spite of