And he would have been back had the bait
he expected from Boston arrived on the train in which it was due. How
curiously everything adjusted itself to favor the bringing about of
this horrible catastrophe! The bait did not arrive till the half-past
twelve train, and they were obliged to work the whole night getting
their trawls ready, thus leaving the way perfectly clear for Louis
Wagner's awful work.

The three women left alone watched and waited in vain for the schooner
to return, and kept the dinner hot for the men, and patiently wondered
why they did not come. In vain they searched the wide horizon for that
returning sail. Ah me, what pathos is in that longing look of women's
eyes for far-off sails! That gaze, so eager, so steadfast, that it
would almost seem as if it must conjure up the ghostly shape of
glimmering canvas from the mysterious distances of sea and sky, and
draw it unerringly home by the mere force of intense wistfulness! And
those gentle eyes, that were never to see the light of another sun,
looked anxiously across the heaving sea till twilight fell, and then
John's messenger, Emil, arrived--Emil Ingebertsen, courteous and
gentle as a youthful knight--and reassured them with his explanation,
which having given, he departed, leaving them in a much more cheerful
state of mind. So the three sisters, with only the little dog Ringe
for a protector, sat by the fire chatting together cheerfully. They
fully expected the schooner back again that night from Portsmouth, but
they were not ill at ease while they waited. Of what should they be
afraid? They had not an enemy in the world! No shadow crept to the
fireside to warn them what was at hand, no portent of death chilled
the air as they talked their pleasant talk and made their little
plans in utter unconsciousness. Karen was to have gone to Portsmouth
with the fishermen that day; she was all ready dressed to go. Various
little commissions were given her, errands to do for the two sisters
she was to leave behind. Maren wanted some buttons, and "I'll give you
one for a pattern; I'll put it in your purse," she said to Karen, "and
then when you open your purse you'll be sure to remember it." (That
little button, of a peculiar pattern, was found in Wagner's possession
afterward.) They sat up till ten o'clock, talking together. The night
was bright and calm; it was a comfort to miss the bitter winds that
had raved about the little dwelling all the long, rough wint