"On account of the morals," added Hugo.
"Yes, and besides on account of learning German. She cannot speak a single word of it, and it is really sad when people cannot understand one another. So I thought--you often go to Herr Consul Erlau, Herr Captain Almbach--perhaps young Frau Erlau may want a maid, and in such a rich household it cannot matter one person more or less, if you were to put in a good word for Annunziata." He stopped and looked beseechingly at his master.
"I will speak to the lady," said Captain Almbach, "and at all events it will be better for you only to introduce your protegée after I have had a decided answer; I will also look at her then. But one thing more, Jonas"--he put on a grave expression--"I presume that nothing influences you in the whole matter, excepting pity for the poor persecuted child?"
"Only pure pity, Herr Captain," assured the sailor, with such honest frankness that Hugo was obliged to bite his lips, so as not to give way to renewed laughter.
"I really believe he is capable of imagining that," murmured he, and then added aloud, "I am glad to hear it. I was convinced of it from the first; as you know, Jonas, we shall never marry!"
"No, Herr Captain," answered the sailor; but the answer sounded somewhat wanting in heartiness.
"Because we think nothing of women," said Hugo, with immovable seriousness. "Beyond pity and gratitude, the story never goes; then we sail away, and regret remains with them."
This time the sailor made no reply, but he looked at his master as if much taken aback.
"And it is indeed most fortunate that it is so," ended Captain Almbach, with great emphasis. "Women on our 'Ellida!' Heaven preserve us from them!"
With which he left Jonas and went out of the room. The latter looked after him with an expression in which it was difficult to decide whether it consisted more of annoyance or sadness; finally, however, the latter sentiment seemed to prevail, as he let his head droop, and uttered a sigh, saying, in an undertone--