The men laughed as if at some excellent joke, and taunted and teased the child until he was in a passion. In the middle of the quarrel Jan himself came on deck.
“A lad as wants to come on board, Captain.”
Jan looked down at the lad who wanted to come on board, and the bright, eager face gave him a sudden suspicion. “What is thy name?” he asked.
“Jan Vedder. Wilt thou throw me a rope?”
Then the captain turned and gave some 313 orders, and in a few minutes little Jan stood on the deck of “The Lapwing.” His first glance, his first movement was toward the handsomely dressed officer who was watching him with such a smiling, loving face.
“Thou art my father! I know thou art!” and with the words he lifted up his face and arms as if to be kissed and embraced.
Then they went into the cabin and Snorro was called, and perhaps Jan had a little pang of jealousy when he witnessed the joy of the child, and saw him folded to Snorro’s big heart. Jan and Snorro were already dressed in their finest uniforms. They had only been waiting for the daybreak to row into harbor. But now there was no need of delay. “My mother is waiting for thee,” said little Jan, anxiously. “Come, let us go to her.”
It was still very early. John Semple had disappeared, and not a soul else was stirring. But this time when Jan approached his old home, the welcome was evident from afar. The chimneys were smoking, the blinds raised, the door wide open, and Margaret, beautiful and loving, stood in it, with beaming face and open arms to welcome him.
Then there was a wonderful breakfast, and they sat over it until the bells were ringing for church. “There will be time to talk afterward,” said Snorro, “but now, what better thing can be done than to go to church? It will be the best place of all, and it is well said, ‘for a happy hour a holy roof.’ What dost thou think, Jan?”