“The fiord takes a wide sweep below there,” observed Peder.
“Yes; and that was why he landed,” replied Oddo. “He was then but a little way from the fishing-ground, if he had wanted fish. But he drove up the boat into a little cove, a narrow dark creek, where it will lie safe enough, I have no doubt, till he comes back: if he means to come back.”
“Why, where should he go? What should he do but come back?” asked Madame Erlingsen.
“He is now gone over the ridge to the north. I saw him moor the boat, and begin to climb; and I watched his dark figure on the white snow, higher and higher, till it was a speck, and I could not make it out.”
“That is the way you will lose your eyes,” exclaimed Ulla. “How often have I warned you,—and many others as giddy as you! When you have lost your eyes, you will think you had better have minded my advice, and not have stared at the snow after a runaway that is better there than here.”
“What do you think of this story, Peder?” asked his mistress.
“I think Hund has taken the short cut over the promontory, on business of his own at the islands. He is not on any business of yours, depend upon it, madam.”
“And what business can he have among the islands?”
“I could say that with more certainty if I knew exactly where the pirate-vessel is.”
“That is your idea, Erica,” said her mistress. “I saw what your thoughts were, an hour ago, before we knew all this.”