“No, indeed! I’ll have no crown upon my head.” And there he was, as mad as a hornet again.
We kept on talking with him, though. One time he was so angry that he tramped after us around the whole deck with his legs squeezed tight together. But we were not a bit afraid of him even then, for we were so mightily glad he was not a ghost.
Our rowboat showed now only like a thin black streak far away from Bird Island. What if Louisa and I should have to stay out here on the Seven Stars all night with crazy Singdahlsen? It would be horrible.
Suddenly he shouted: “Up the mast with you! Both of you!”
We tried to turn his mind from that, but no, indeed; we must climb the mast, he said, or he would throw us into the sea.
“I’m sick and tired of you now, so up the mast with you, I say.”
I can’t deny that I began to be a little afraid of him. We tried our best to be agreeable and talked of diamonds and gold-pieces,—things which he usually liked to talk of; but it was of no use.
“Now I shall count twelve,” said crazy Singdahlsen. “And if you are not at the top of the mast when I say twelve, out you go into the sea.”
Oh! Oh! What should we do? I cast a terrified glance over the lonely sea.—Just think! A boat was at that instant rounding the point and in it was Andrea! We knew her by the plaid kerchief on her head.
Oh, how glad, how glad we were! All fear left us at the sight of her.