Next winter the steersman of a yacht came a wooing. For two years he had gone about and hugged his misery for her sake, and he got the same answer.
"If you come again in the summer time, and give me the right gold ring I will be wedded with, something may come of it."
Out to the Vær he came again on Midsummer Day.
But when he heard where the gold ring lay, he sat and wept the whole day till evening, when the sun began to dance north-westward into the sea.
Then the thirteenth cormorant arose, and flew right over the island.
There was nasty weather during the third winter.
There were manifold wrecks, and on the keel of a boat, which came driving ashore, hung an exhausted young lad by his knife-belt.
But they couldn't get the life back into him, roll and rub him about in the boat-house as they might.
Then the girl came in.
"'Tis my bridegroom!" said she.