When the brothers were alone, Nils Petter had to come out with the truth, that all he had to show for the trip was one cask of whisky. "That I brought home, meaning all for the best, Bernt, and thinking £7 wasn't worth sending."
Bernt, however, was of a different opinion, and delivered a lengthy reprimand, ending up with the words, "The Eva Maria's never made a voyage like that before. Ah, Nils Petter, I'm afraid you're the prodigal son."
Nils Petter bowed his head humbly, but reflected inwardly that if all the prodigal sons had been as comfortably off on their travels as he had on that voyage, they wouldn't have been so badly off after all.
As for the cask of whisky, Nils Petter was ordered to drive in with it to Drammen and sell it there, which he did, after first privately drawing off six bottles and supplying the deficiency with water.
If Bernt Jorgensen had had his doubts the first time Nils Petter went on board the Eva Maria as skipper, his misgivings now were naturally increased a thousand-fold. Nils Petter, however, promised faithfully to reform, and send home a thumping remittance, if only he might be allowed to make one more voyage. And in the end, Bernt, with brotherly affection, let him have his way.
This time the charter was for Niewendiep, or "Nyndyp," as it was generally called, which port Bernt knew inside and out, as he said, so that Nils Petter could not palm off any fairy-tales about it.
The voyage was as quick as the preceding one, and, less than four weeks from sailing, Nils Petter appeared once more rowing in to the quay. This time, however, he brought with him, not a cask of whisky, but "something altogether different"—in honour of which the Eva Maria was decked out with all the bunting on board.
Bernt Jorgensen had come down himself to the waterside on seeing the vessel so beflagged, as it had not been since the day of his own wedding, thirty years before. He stood shading his eyes with one hand, as he watched Nils Petter in the boat coming in. "What on earth was that he had got in the stern? Something all tied about with fluttering red ribbons."
"Hey, brother!" hailed Nils Petter joyfully, standing up in the boat. "Here's a remittance, if you like!" And he pointed to a buxom young woman who sat nodding and smiling at his side. Without undue ceremony he hoisted the lady by one arm up on to the quay, and the pair stood facing Bernt, who stared speechlessly from one to the other.
"Here's your brother-in-law, my dear," said Nils Petter in a dialect presumably meant for Dutch, nudging the fair one with his knee in a part where Hollanders are generally supposed to be well upholstered. The impetus sent her flying into the arms of Bernt, who extricated himself humidly.