“But Peter will count his lost nets; there is nothing else he will think of.”
“Between nets and men’s lives, there is only one choice.”
Peter said that also, but he was nevertheless very angry. The loss took possession of his mind, and excluded all memory of his gains. 51 “It was just like Jan and Snorro,” he muttered, “to be troubling themselves with other boats. In a sudden storm, a boat’s crew should mind only its own safety.” These thoughts were in his heart, though he did not dare to form them into any clear shape. But just as a drop or two of ink will diffuse itself through a glass of pure water and defile the whole, so they poisoned every feeling of kindness which he had to Jan.
“What did I tell thee?” he said to Thora, bitterly. “Jan does nothing well but he spoils it. Here, at the end of the season, for a little gust of wind, he loses both nets and tackle.”
“He did well when he saved life, Peter.”
“Every man should mind his own affairs. Glumm would have done that thing first.”
“Then Glumm would have been little of a man. And thou, Peter Fae, would have been the first to tell Glumm so. Thou art saying evil, and dost not mean it.”
“Speak no more. It is little a woman understands. Her words are always like a contrary wind.”
Peter was very sulky for some days, and when at last he was ready to settle with Jan, there 52 was a decided quarrel. Jan believed himself to be unfairly dealt with, and bitter words were spoken on both sides. In reality, Peter knew that he had been hard with his son, harder by far than he had ever intended to be; but in his heart there had sprung up one of those sudden and unreasonable dislikes which we have all experienced, and for which no explanation is possible. It was not altogether the loss of the nets—he did not know what it was—but the man he liked, and praised, and was proud of one week, he could hardly endure to see or speak to the next.
“That ends all between thee and me,” said Peter, pushing a little pile of gold toward Jan. It was a third less than Jan expected. He gave it to Margaret, and bade her “use it carefully, as he might be able to make little more until the next fishing season.”