“Sleep was the first thing, and now we will see to thy clothes. They must be mended, Jan.”
Jan looked down at the suit he wore. It was torn and shabby and weather-stained, and it was all he had. But Snorro was as clever as any woman with the needle and thread. The poor fellow, indeed, had never had any woman friend to use a needle for him, and he soon darned, and patched, and washed clean what the winds and waves had left of Jan’s once handsome suit of blue.
As he worked they talked of the best means of securing an interview with Margaret, for Jan readily guessed that Peter would forbid it, and it was finally decided that Snorro should take her a letter, as soon as Peter was at the store next day. There was a little cave by the seaside 104 half way between the town and Peter’s house, and there Jan was to wait for Snorro’s report.
In the meantime Peter had reached his home. In these days it was a very quiet, somber place. Thora was in ill health, in much worse health than any one but herself suspected, and Margaret was very unhappy. This evening Thora had gone early to bed, and Margaret sat with her baby in her arms. When her father entered she laid him in the cradle. Peter did not like to have it in any way forced upon his notice, and Margaret understood well enough that the child was only tolerated for her sake. So, without any of those little fond obtrusive ways so natural to a young mother, she put the child out of the way, and sat down to serve her father’s tea.
His face was dark and angry, his heart felt hard to her at that hour. She had brought so much sorrow and shame on him. She had been the occasion of so many words and acts of which he was ashamed. In fact, his conscience was troubling him, and he was trying to lay the whole blame of his cruelty and injustice on her. For some time he did not speak, and she 105 was too much occupied with her own thoughts to ask him any questions. At length he snapped out, “Jan Vedder came back to Lerwick yesterday.”
“Yesterday?”
“I said yesterday. Did thou think he would run here to see thee the first moment? Not he. He was at Tulloch’s last night. He will have been at Torr’s all day, no doubt.”
Margaret’s eyes filled with tears, and Peter looked angrily at her.
“Art thou crying again? Now listen, thou art not like to see him at all. He has thrown thy £600 to the bottom of the sea—ship, cargo, and crew, all gone.”
“Jan? Father, is Jan safe?”