Peter answered her not, and Thora kept silence also. But at the end, when he had smoked his pipe, and was lifting the Bible for the evening exercise, he said: “Thou shalt have thy way, wife; Jan shall have a boat, but thou wilt see evil will come of it.”
“Thou wert always good, Peter, and in this thing I am thinking of more than fish. There is sorrow in Margaret’s house. A mother can feel that.”
“Now, then, meddle thou not in the matter. Every man loves in his own way. Whatever there is between Jan and Margaret is a thing by itself. But I will speak about the boat in the morning.”
Peter kept his word, and kept it without smallness or grudging. He still liked Jan. If there were trouble between him and Margaret he regarded it as the natural initiation to married life. Norse women were all high-spirited and wished to rule; and he would have despised Jan if he had suspected him of giving way to Margaret’s stubborn self-will. Though she was his own daughter, he did not wish to see her setting an example of wifely supremacy.
So he called Jan pleasantly and said, “I have saved for thee ‘The Fair Margaret.’ Wilt thou sail her this season, Jan? She is the best boat I have, as thou well knows. Fourteen hundred hooks she is to carry, and thou can hire six men to go with thee.”
It made Peter’s eyes feel misty to see the instantaneous change in Jan’s face. He could not speak his thanks, but he looked them; and Peter felt troubled, and said, almost querulously, “There, that will do, son Jan; go now, and hire the men thou wants.”
“First of all, I should like Snorro.”
Peter hesitated, but he would not tithe his kindness, and he frankly answered, “Well, then, thou shalt have Snorro—though it will go hard with me, wanting him.”