Chapter 32

It was an afternoon in the following winter in the pilot's home. His
wife was expecting him, and kept looking uneasily out of the window. He
was to have been home by noon, and it was now beginning to get dark; and
the weather had been stormy the whole of the previous day.

She gave up sewing, and sat thinking in the twilight, with the light
playing over the floor from the door of the stove, where a little kettle
was boiling, that she might have something warm ready for him at once
when he came. It was too early to light a candle.

Gjert was at school in Arendal, living at his aunt's; and Henrik was
sitting by the light from the stove, cutting up a piece of wood into
shavings.

"It is beginning to blow again, Henrik," she said, and put a
handkerchief round her head to look out.

"It is no use, mother," he pronounced, without stirring, and splitting a
long peg into two against his chest; "it's pitch-dark, isn't it?" So she
gave it up again before she got to the door, but stood and listened; she
thought she had heard a shout outside.

"He is coming!" she cried, suddenly, and darted out; and when Salvé
entered the porch from the sleet squall that had just come up, with his
sou'wester and oilskin coat all dripping, he found himself, all wet as
he was, suddenly encircled in the dark by a pair of loving arms.

"How long you have been!" she cried, taking from him what he had in his
hands, and preceding him into the house, where she lit a candle. "What
has kept you? I heard that you had taken a galliot up to Arendal
yesterday, and thought you would have been here this morning. It was
dreadful weather yesterday, Salvé; so I was a little anxious," she
continued, as she helped him off with his wet oilskin coverings.

"I have done well, Elizabeth," he said, looking pleased.

"On the galliot?"

"Yes, and I had a little matter to arrange in Arendal, which kept me
there till after midday."

"You saw Gjert, then?"

"I did." He looked a little impatiently towards the door.

"And he is well?"

"He can tell you now, himself," was the reply, as the door at the moment
opened and Gjert entered with a loud "Good evening, mother!"

She sprang towards him in astonishment, and threw her arms round him.
"And not a dry stitch on the whole boy!" she cried, with motherly
concern.

"But, Salvé dear, what is the meaning of this? How can the boy come away
from school?"

"When we have changed our clothes and warmed ourselves a little, I'll
tell you, mother," answered the pilot,