children were playing in
the sun, while Christine, the servant girl, was dividing her attention
between her sewing work, and the baby which was reposing in a kneading
trough, upon a little bed of rushes. She would also occasionally cast
her eyes towards the other children, as they dug little ditches which
they filled with water brought from the house in an old kettle, and then
sailed their little bark boats in these miniature canals.

In the meantime, Magde, as usual, was sitting in the parlor, weaving at
her loom with such violence that the window panes rattled in their
sashes. As she was thus engaged she hummed a little song, which Ragnar
during their courtship had frequently sung beneath her window as a
signal that he wished to see her alone. As Magde loved her husband above
all other earthly things, his favorite song had never become discordant
to her. This song she took most pleasure in singing when she was alone,
for then she could give full rein to her fancy, and look forward to the
time when her loved husband should become a captain, and command an
elegant schooner in which he could receive his wife, for she hoped that
she might be able to take one voyage at least to Goteborg, to preside at
the table in Captain Ragnar's cabin.

Then thought she, what a great stir her appearance in the vessel would
create! "Heavens," one would say, "what a beautiful wife our captain
has!" Yes, the captain is a man of taste. "The captain, always the
captain. O, how grand it sounded! The captain loves her so much," the
sailors would also say, "that he scarcely takes his eyes from her, and
how affectionately she looks at him! O, it must be a happy life, to be
thus married!"

While Magde was thus engaged in her pleasant reveries, the latch was
lifted and the door swung open slowly.

"Mercy! What can be Mr. H----'s business here!" she exclaimed.

"O, do not disturb yourself," said Mr. Fabian, for it was our valorous
huntsman who thus disturbed Magde's dreams, "I hope everything may be
arranged without trouble. I am not the man who would injure his
neighbor, even if I had it in my power."

"What do you mean!" exclaimed Magde dropping her shuttle in her terror.

In the meantime the worthy gentleman had gradually approached Magde,
but so softly and cautiously that he resembled a cat about pouncing upon
a trembling mouse.

"Heaven forbid," replied Mr. Fabian, "that I should think that you knew
anything about it. A woman so virtuo