This assurance somewhat quieted the fears of Alice, but, some minutes elapsed before the persuasions of her lover could reconcile her to his departure. At length, however, impressing a kiss upon her cheek, and assuring her that he would soon be back, he moved away, leaving the young girl to watch him until the fog had shut his form from her view.
Even then she did not stir from her position, but kept her eyes turned toward the spot where Marline had disappeared; and as minute after minute passed, she still remained, gently refusing to comply with the entreaties of Stump, who wished her to return to the ark that she might not be exposed to the rain.
Half an hour passed, still, neither her lover nor the boat appeared to calm her uneasiness; and when the time had lengthened into a full hour, she turned her pale, agitated countenance toward the shipkeeper, and expressed her anxiety in a tremulous voice.
“There’s not the least reason to be alarmed, Miss Alice,” said Stump, “not the least. The lad has probably reached the boat long before this, and has got into it. But it is probably so jammed in the ice, that they can’t get here in a moment.”
The young girl shook her head.
“No, no!” she cried, “he wouldn’t have entered the boat; he would have come right back after finding it, if nothing had happened!”
Perceiving that he was unable to calm her fears, the shipkeeper reflected a moment and then drew a small pocket compass from his Guernsey, and looked at it. He had formed the resolution to go in search of Marline.
“I’ll bring you news of the lad in a short time,” he said, turning to the young girl and exhibiting the compass. “This instrument will let me know my bearings, so that I can easily find my way back.”
“You will soon return, my friend?”
“Ay, ay, bless you, very soon, for I’ve sworn to stick to you, and my conscience wouldn’t allow me to remain long absent.”