is days were
spent on the sea. Such work as was also play he was eager to do. He
would clamber up the rocks of the island of Engy outside the harbor,
to take the eggs of the eider duck from the steep places where she
built her nest; and from the beginning of May to the end of June he
found his mother in the eider down that she cleaned for the English
traders. People whispered to Rachel that he favored his father, both
in stature and character, but she turned a deaf ear to their gloomy
forebodings. Her son was as fair as the day to look upon, and if he
had his lazy humors, he had also one quality which overtopped them
all--he loved his mother. People whispered again that in this regard
also he resembled his father, who amid many vices had the same sole
virtue.

Partly to shut him off from the scandal of the gossips, who might
tell him too soon the story of his mother's wrecked and broken life,
and partly out of the bitterness and selfishness of her bruised
spirit, Rachel had brought up her boy to speak the tongue of her
mother--the English tongue. Her purpose failed her, for Jason learned
Icelandic on the beach as fast as English in the house; he heard the
story of his mother's shame and of his father's baseness, and brought
it back to her in the colors of a thrice-told tale. Vain effort of
fear and pride! It was nevertheless to prepare the lad for the future
that was before him.

And through all the days of her worse than widowhood, amid dark
memories of the past and thoughts of the future wherein many passions
struggled together, the hope lay low down in Rachel's mind that
Stephen would return to her. Could he continue to stand in dread of
the threat of his own wife? No, no, no. It had been only the hot word
of a moment of anger, and it was gone. Stephen was staying away in
fear of the brother of Patricksen. When that man was dead, or out of
the way, he would return. Then he would see their boy, and remember
his duty towards him, and if the lad ever again spoke bitterly of one
whom he had never yet seen, she on her part would chide him, and the
light of revenge that had sometimes flashed in his brilliant blue
eyes would fade away and in uplooking and affection he would walk as
a son with his father's hand.

Thus in the riot of her woman's heart hope fought with fear and
love with hate. And at last the brother of Patricksen did indeed
disappear. Rumor whispered that he had returned to the Westmann
Islands, there to