"Nor do I want to be!" exclaimed a hearty voice, as Erik himself burst into the room. "What is this I hear, Senta? Be careful, or I shall grow jealous even of the Flying Dutchman!"
He greeted the visitors, and then continued: "But I just ran in to tell you that I sighted your father's ship rounding the headland, and back of it some distance is another vessel. Doubtless your father is bringing guests with him, so you had better tell the good Maria to bestir herself."
Senta jumped up and clapped her hands at the news of her father's return. Instantly the whole room was in confusion. The spinning-wheels were quickly set aside, and the maidens helped to bring the long table to the centre of the room and set it for the expected company. Then they hastily gathered up their belongings and bade their hostess good-day, leaving her alone with Erik.
"What was this I heard about the Flying Dutchman, Senta?" he asked in a tender voice.
"I was just expressing pity for his lonely lot," she answered.
"Doesn't my loneliness awaken any pity, then?"
"You do not deserve so much sympathy," she said lightly. "You are young and strong and—well, almost any of the girls here to-day would show you some interest. But the poor wandering seaman is compelled to sail on till doomsday because nobody cares."
"Come, come, Senta, you must be jesting!" said the hunter growing pale. "You surely cannot place this spectre ahead of all of us flesh-and-blood people in your regard!"
"Why does the thought alarm you so?" she said evasively.
"Because of a dream I had. It was so real that I have been able to think of nothing else all day."