The attempt was unsuccessful; she could see nothing but undefined mist.
"I would rather trust to my eyes!" cried she, putting down the telescope. "I can see it so, quite plainly, there close in shore--in the white streak. What is that?"
"The surf."
"What has become of the sail?"
"It has been taken in so as not to have too much way on as they run in. But really you have a sailor's eye!"
Elsa smiled at the compliment, and Reinhold smiled too. Their looks met, and remained turned upon each other.
"I have a request to make to you," said Elsa, without dropping her eyes.
"And I was about to make one to you," answered he, looking steadily into the brown stars which shone up towards him, "I wanted to ask you also to go on shore. We shall be afloat in an hour, but the night will be stormy, and we shall be obliged to anchor as soon as we have passed Wissow Head." He pointed to the promontory. "Under the best of circumstances the situation would not be pleasant, at the worst it might be very unpleasant. I should like to know that you were safe from either alternative."
"Thank you," said Elsa, "and now my request need not be made;" and she told Reinhold why she had come.
"That happens most fortunately," cried he, "but there is not a moment to lose. I will speak to your father immediately. We must go at once."