“Where do you think I should sleep, Sister dear?” And there was something so screamingly funny about him as he stood in the doorway (further he could not come), looking up and down as if in search of a sleeping place—it set them all laughing. Fru Lagerlöf and Mamselle Lovisa, who had been lying there fearful and a little seasick, now sat up in their bunks to have their laugh out. Johan and Anna laughed so hard they nearly shook themselves off their “shelves.” Back-Kaisa forgot for the moment that she would soon be at that dreadful place where the lake ends, and laughed, too, and the little girl by her side was fairly choking with laughter.
Lieutenant Lagerlöf, who seldom laughed aloud, looked highly pleased.
“All’s right with you, I see,” he said. “So now I’ll go up again and chin with the captain.” Whereupon he bade them a cheery good-night, and went his way.
In the cabin the feeling of uneasiness and the qualms of seasickness returned. Fru Lagerlöf again made futile attempts to quiet Back-Kaisa, who went on moaning and wailing that they were getting nearer and nearer that bottomless pit. The little girl by her side must have fallen asleep, for she remembered no more of that night’s experiences.
[V
AT THE GOLDSMITH’S SHOP]
THE most trying part of the journey was over. The travellers were safely landed at Göteborg, where they cast away all care and set out in the glorious summer weather to view the city.
They wandered up Östra Hamngatan. Lieutenant Lagerlöf, stick in hand, hat pushed far back on his head, spectacles drawn far down on his nose, was in the lead. Behind him walked Fru Lagerlöf, holding Johan by the hand; behind her, Mamselle Lovisa, leading Anna; and last came Back-Kaisa who carried Selma on her arm—for it would never do, she thought, to let the little girl ride pig-back in a city.
Lieutenant Lagerlöf had donned a brown coat and light straw hat. Fru Lagerlöf and Mamselle Lovisa were attired in voluminous black silk skirts and fine velvet bodices, with white inserts and wrist-ruffles, over which they wore large cashmere shawls—folded tricornerwise—that almost concealed their dresses; and they had on Panama hats with broad, floppy brims. Johan was in black velvet breeches and smock, and Anna was dressed in a stiffly starched blue polka-dot print worn over a crinoline; and she had both hat and parasol. Selma had on a dress exactly like Anna’s, only she was wearing a sunbonnet instead of a hat, and had neither parasol nor crinoline.
The Lieutenant suddenly halted, turned, and looked back at his line of women and children. He nodded and smiled. It was plain he liked having them with him.