fascinated, and could not take his eyes off
her, until, reddening with confusion, she instinctively stretched out
her hand for her bodice, that lay beside her on the bench.

"Good evening, Jacob, old boy," cried Carl, in the frank, off-hand
manner that became him so well, going up to the old fellow, and laying
his hand cordially on his shoulder. "I'm afraid we shall be very
troublesome to you, such a large party; but we want you to let us stay
here till morning, till we see if the weather moderates a bit. We
daren't go driving out in the dark to Great Torungen, on account of
these women folk that we have on board,"--and he pointed, jokingly, to
his sister and her friend.

"I see you have to deal with womankind too, so you know what it is."

The old man was apparently not insensible to this genial way of dealing
with him. He rose from his seat and made room at the fire, begging that
they would put up with what accommodation he had to offer, and telling
Elizabeth at the same time to go out for more wood.

While the party gathered round the fire, and made themselves as
comfortable as they could, Carl Beck was outside with the boatmen,
seeing about having the provisions brought up. He came in again with
Elizabeth, also with an armful of wood. Throwing it down, laughing, he
cried--

"Now for a 'bowl,' as our friends the Swedes have it. But first, out
with the food."

There was no scarcity of eatables, which were discussed amid a running
fire of conversation upon every kind of topic; and then came the "bowl,"
a composition of various strong and spicy ingredients, of which Carl had
the secret, and which finally was lighted, and ladled into the glasses
whilst the blue flame was burning.

Carl Beck was the life of the party; and very well he looked as he sat
there astride over the bench, with his glass in his hand, and his
officer's jacket with its anchor-buttons thrown open, and sang first one
and then another of the rollicking drinking-songs that were then in
vogue, the others joining in the chorus. He gave them, then, a cheery
sailor-song, which brought in its train a series of anecdotes from the
recent war.

Old Jacob, under the influence of the prevailing good-fellowship and the
good cheer, had become uncommonly lively for him, and would even put in
a word now and then. But every attempt to make him tell a story himself
failed. Only when the action at the Heather Islands came up for
discussion for a while did he c