On a narrow sofa that took up the whole side of one wall, Fru Lagerlöf lay without undressing. Opposite, on a similar sofa, was Mamselle Lovisa. Over Fru Lagerlöf, on a sort of shelf, Johan was stowed, and Anna occupied another shelf above Mamselle Lovisa’s sofa. On the floor, between the two sofas, with some blankets under them, lay Back-Kaisa and Selma. Thus, every bit of space was occupied; there was not the least little corner where one might stand or sit.
The lights were extinguished, the good-nights said, and everyone settled down to sleep. For a time it was dead still in the cabin. Then, all at once, the floor began to go up and down in the strangest way! The little girl rolled like a ball, first over toward Fru Lagerlöf’s sofa, then back toward the nurse. It was great fun; only she could not understand why the floor did not hold still. Presently she heard her mother and her aunt whisper to each other.
“I must have eaten too much of that rich salmon at the Sjöstedts’,” said her mother.
“I thought at the time it was not very sensible food they set before us,” Aunt Lovisa remarked. “And they knew we were to be out on Vänern.”
“No, Vänern isn’t pleasant!” sighed Fru Lagerlöf.
Then Back-Kaisa, too, began to whisper.
“Say, Frua, are we there yet?—there where the sea stops, and the water rushes down the bottomless pit?”
“My dear girl, there’ll be no stop to the sea to-night!” said Fru Lagerlöf, who did not know what Back-Kaisa was talking about.
Again there was silence for a space, but not stillness. The floor rocked on and the little girl continued her delightful rolling.
Fru Lagerlöf struck a match and lit the lantern.