ing billow helping and giving them a good lift
until they are fairly out of the water. One false move on the outside
of the reefs--one moment's delay, and they would be shipwrecked.

"Then it would be all over with me, and with Morten at the same time."
This thought came across Joergen's mind out at sea, where his
foster-father had been taken suddenly ill: he was in a high fever.
This was just a little way from the outer reef. Joergen sprang up.

"Father, allow me," he cried, and his eye glanced over Morten and over
the waves; but just then every oar was raised for the great struggle,
and as the first enormous billow came, he observed his father's pale
suffering countenance, and he could not carry out the wicked design
that had suggested itself to his mind. The boat got safely over the
reefs, and in to the land; but Joergen's evil thoughts remained, and
his blood boiled at every little disagreeable act that started up in
his recollection from the time that he and Morten had been comrades,
and his anger increased as he remembered each offence. Morten had
supplanted him, he felt assured of that; and that was enough to make
him hateful to him. A few of the fishermen remarked his scowling looks
at Morten, but Morten himself did not; he was, just as usual, ready to
give every assistance, and very talkative--a little too much of the
latter, perhaps.

Joergen's foster-father was obliged to keep his bed; he became worse,
and died within a week; and Joergen inherited the house behind the
sand-hills--a humble habitation to be sure, but it was always
something. Morten had not so much.

"You will not take service any more, Joergen, I suppose, but will
remain among us now," said one of the old fishermen.

But Joergen had no such intention. He was thinking, on the contrary, of
going away to see a little of the world. The eel-man of Fjaltring had
an uncle up at Gammel-Skagen; he was a fisherman, but also a thriving
trader who owned some little vessels. He was such an excellent old
man, it would be a good thing to take service with him. Gammel-Skagen
lies on the northern part of Jutland, at the other extremity of the
country from Huusby-Klitter, and that was what Joergen thought most of.
He was determined not to stay for Else and Morten's wedding, which was
to take place in a couple of weeks.

"It was foolish to take his departure now," was the opinion of the old
fisherman who had spoken to him before. "Now Joergen had a house, E