now existing
between them.

He had with him a letter from his father, which was read aloud when the
meal was over. It was dated from a South American port, and mention was
made in it of Salve among others. Off Cape Hatteras they had had stormy
weather, and had their topmast carried away. It remained attached by a
couple of ropes, and with the heavy sea that was running, was swinging
backwards and forwards, as it hung, against the lower rigging,
threatening to destroy it. Salve Kristiansen had come forward in the
emergency and ventured aloft to cut it adrift; and as he sat there the
whole had gone over the side. He fell with it, but had the luck to be
caught in a top-lift as he fell, and so saved his life. "It was pluckily
done," ended the account, "but nevertheless all is not exactly right
about him, and he is not turning out as well as he promised."

"I never expected very much from him," remarked Carl, with a
contemptuous shrug of his shoulders; "he's a bad lot."

He didn't see the resentful eyes which Elizabeth fixed upon him for
these words, and she sat for a long while afterwards out in the kitchen
with her hands in her lap, silent and angry, thinking over them. A
resolution was forming in her mind.

Before they retired to rest, Carl whispered to her--

"I have written to my father to-day, and--to-morrow, Elizabeth, is our
betrothal-day!"

Elizabeth was the last in the room, putting it to rights, and when she
left she took a sheet of paper and writing materials with her. She lay
down on her bed; but about midnight she was sitting up by a light and
disfiguring a sheet of paper with writing. It was to this effect:--

"Forgive me that I cannot be your wife, for my heart is given to
another.--Elizabeth Raklev."

She folded the paper and fastened it with a pin for want of a wafer, and
then quietly opening the door of the room where Madam Beck was sleeping,
placed her lips close to her ear, and whispered her name. Madam Beck
woke up in some alarm when she saw Elizabeth standing before her fully
dressed, and apparently prepared for a journey.

"Madam Beck," Elizabeth said, quietly, "I am going to confide something
to you, and ask for your advice and assistance. Your step-son has asked
me to be his wife. It was last Sunday--and I said yes; but now I have
changed my mind, and am going back to my aunt, or farther away still, if
you can tell me how; for I am afraid he will follow me."

Madam Beck stared at her in