'I'll tell you what, Ellen,' said one of the other women, 'let us run over to Stine Steffens, as none of us have any mind to go to sleep to-night. She has a warm, comfortable room, and can give us a good cup of coffee.'
Her proposition was readily agreed to by the group of women who had now assembled, and, tying handkerchiefs over their heads like hoods, they all repaired to Jan Steffens's house, with the exception of 'Skipper Ellen,' as she was generally called, who remained behind.
Christine was still sitting in the same corner of the room where she had placed herself after Kjeld had left her. Her beautiful, expressive eyes were swimming in tears.
'Good evening, little Stine!' cried one of the fisherwomen. 'How goes it with you?'
'Oh, as with the rest of you,' she replied. 'I am full of anxiety and terror. It was kind of you to come here. Pray sit down.'
'You had better come to one of our houses, and we shall make some good strong coffee; that will help to kill the time.'
'We can make the coffee as well here,' said Christine.
'Oh, certainly,' said the other, joyfully, 'and I will help to blow up the fire.'
The fire was rekindled, the coffee made, and the conversation was then resumed.
'Would to Heaven our people were safe at home again!' exclaimed Christine. 'I am so terrified at the risk they are running to-night.'