“A skydskarl—a boy that goes on a cariole to take back the horses. I learned a little English from the Englishmen I rode with; and then I was in England almost a year.”
“But how came you out here, alone in an open boat?” asked the captain, returning to his first inquiry.
Ole put one of his dirty fingers in his mouth, and looked stupid and uncommunicative. He glanced at the young officers around him, and then over the rail at the sea.
“Were you wrecked?” inquired the captain.
“No, sir; not wrecked,” replied Ole. “I never was wrecked in my life.”
“What are you doing out here, out of sight of land, in a boat half full of water?” persisted the captain.
“Doing nothing.”
“Did you get blown off from the shore?”
“No, sir; a southerly wind wouldn’t blow anybody off from the south coast of Norway,” answered Ole, with a smile which showed that he had some perception of things absurd in themselves.
“You are no fool.”