e stove, he broke
out:

"Will you come or will you not? You wouldn't help him to live; now will
you help him to die?"

The words, thrust forth with a slow, panting emphasis, hit the pastor
like so many blows.

"I will come," he said, with solemn resolution. "Sit down till I get
ready."

He had expected some expression of gratification or thanks, for Atle
well knew what he had asked. It was his life the pastor risked, but
this time in his calling as a physician, not of bodies, but of souls.
It struck him, while he took leave of his wife, that there was something
resentful and desperate in the pilot's manner, so different from his
humble pleading at their last meeting.

As he embraced the children one by one, and kissed them, he missed
Carina, but was told that she had probably gone to the cow-stable
with the dairy-maid, who was her particular friend. So he left tender
messages for her, and, summoning Atle, plunged out into the storm. A
servant walked before him with a lantern, and lighted the way down to
the pier, where the boat lay tossing upon the waves.

"But, man," cried the pastor, seeing that the boat was empty, "where are
your boatmen?"

"I am my own boatman," answered Atle, gloomily. "You can hold the sheet,
I the tiller."

Mr. Holt was ashamed of retiring now, when he had given his word.

But it was with a sinking heart that he stepped into the frail skiff,
which seemed scarcely more than a nutshell upon the tempestuous deep. He
was on the point of asking his servant, unacquainted though he was
with seamanship, to be the third man in the boat; but the latter,
anticipating his intention, had made haste to betake himself away. To
venture out into this roaring darkness, with no beacon to guide them,
and scarcely a landmark discernible, was indeed to tempt Providence.

But by the time he had finished this reflection, the pastor felt himself
rushing along at a tremendous speed, and short, sharp commands rang in
his ears, which instantly engrossed all his attention. To his eyes the
sky looked black as ink, except for a dark-blue unearthly shimmer that
now and then flared up from the north, trembled, and vanished. By this
unsteady illumination it was possible to catch a momentary glimpse of
a head, and a peak, and the outline of a mountain. The small sail was
double-reefed, yet the boat careened so heavily that the water broke
over the gunwale. The squalls beat down upon them with tumultuous
roar and smok