was Salve Kristiansen. While the parcel was
being distributed, he remained standing by the wheel, intent apparently
upon watching the movements of the two men who were hoisting up and
making fast the jolly-boat. His lips were compressed; and when he gave
the men a hand now and then, it was not a very willing one, and was
generally accompanied by some bitter or sarcastic remark. His nature
since they last sailed from Arendal seemed to have turned to gall; and
when the captain had casually mentioned in his letter home that he was
not so well satisfied with him, he had had good reason for saying so.
There had been all sorts of unpleasantness between them; and if any
discontent or difference between himself and the crew prevailed, Salve
was sure to be at the bottom of it. He had found a rancid salt-herring,
set up on four legs with a tail, as he was walking on the poop one
evening in the moonlight; and as complaints had been recently made about
the food, a good deal of which had become worse than bad from the
effects of the hot climate, he had at once attributed to Salve this
pointed method of drawing his attention to the subject again. It seemed
almost as if he had some cause for bitterness against himself
personally; and as he had always treated him with marked favour, he was
at a loss to comprehend the reason for it.

With the exception of the captain, who had retained his seat at the
after-end of the poop, Salve was soon the only human being to be seen on
deck. The whole crew had disappeared, and might have been found poring
over their letters two and two, or singly, in the most out-of-the-way
places, from the main and fore top even to the bowsprit end, where one
had erected a pavilion for himself out of a fold of the hauled-down jib.

Captain Beck's letter, to judge from his gestures and half-audible
exclamations, was not giving him the pleasure which he had anticipated.
His whole face, up to the top of his head, had become red as a lobster,
and he sat now drumming with one hand on his knee, and casting an
occasional fierce look over at Salve, in the attitude of a man beside
himself with anger. At last he brought the hand in which he held the
letter down upon the table with a force that sent the decanter and glass
flying, and thrusting the fragments aside with his foot, he strode up
and down the deck for a couple of minutes and then came towards Salve as
if he meant to say something; and as the latter could very well