'You know better, Ellen,' replied the old man. 'I have no fear for my life, but if I lose my boat my children will starve.'
'That is a serious consideration, to be sure,' said Ellen, 'but the young man shall go, notwithstanding, and if you won't accompany him, I will. Come here, Kjeld--when you and I put our strength together I think we shall manage to reach the other side.'
Kjeld uttered a cry of joy, shook Ellen's hand warmly, and exclaimed, 'May God bless and reward you, dear good Ellen; I shall never forget your kindness.'
'As to your boat, Poul, you must not be alarmed if we borrow it,' said Ellen. 'If we are unlucky, and the sea takes us, my boat lies drawn up on the land, newly painted and just put to rights; and in the village yonder I have a small house--you can take both as payment if your boat be lost. But Kjeld shall go as he wishes.'
'Don't attempt to go, Ellen,' cried one of the women, 'you will only get into trouble.'
'With God's help I have no fear of that. The lad shall go, if we should cross in one of my fishing-boats.'
She forced herself through the circle of women who had gathered around her, and hastened to the shore, where Kjeld had already placed himself in the frail boat. Ellen got into it, and, standing up, seized an oar. Soon after the boat glided out to sea, and the somewhat hazardous voyage was begun.
'She is a wonderful woman, that Ellen!' exclaimed one of those who were looking on. 'A lucky fellow he was who got her for a wife; there's nothing she can't turn her hand to; and she can work as well as the best man among them.'
As long as it was possible to perceive the boat, it was observed to be making straight for its destination; rowed by vigorous arms, and managed by experienced persons, it seemed sometimes to be swallowed up by the waves, and then it would be seen as if riding over them, and defying them, while it never swerved from its appointed course.
'Come now, Kjeld,' cried Ellen, after they had got some distance from the land, 'let us two have a little rational conversation. It was partly to find an opportunity for this that I was so willing to go to sea with you to-night. What really is the matter with you, my lad? Why have you been going about latterly with your head drooping in such a melancholy way, and loitering about in idleness, instead of following your occupations cheerfully and diligently?'