t him. He was always
neatly dressed in a blue serge suit, coloured shirt, and in dry weather
wore canvas shoes. It was a great pleasure for the young Consul to go
his morning round in the ship-yard with Mr. Robson. The work went on
bravely, and the ship bid fair to be both handsome and well built. Mr.
Garman knew Tom's weakness as well as any one, but as long as he
attended to his work he was free to use his leisure as he liked. The
firm had always worked on the principle that the less the workpeople
were interfered with the better. They worked all the better for it, and
gave far less trouble generally.

"I think she ought to be ready next spring," said the Consul one day in
the beginning of July.

"In about eight or nine months, if the winter is not too wet," answered
Tom.

"I should be very pleased if we could manage to launch her on the 15th
of May," said the Consul, in a low tone; "but you must not mention the
day to any one; you understand, Mr. Robson?"

"All right, sir," answered Tom.

Tom did not betray the day, even to his friend Master Gabriel; he only
said it was to be some time in the spring, and with that Gabriel had to
be content: but he still showed great curiosity as to what the name of
the ship was to be. Tom swore that he knew nothing about it, and Morten
answered that it was "a thing which did not concern schoolboys." From
which Gabriel inferred that neither of them knew much about it, and, at
all events, not Morten.

During the summer Gabriel got on but poorly at school; it seemed really
too hard that he should have to pore over his books, while the work was
going on with all its noise and bustle in the ship-yard. His
character-book showed a sad spectacle, and each month when he had to
take it in to his father, he made up his mind to make a little speech,
of which the burden was to be, that he did not wish to continue his
studies, but to be employed in the office, or be allowed to go to sea,
or anywhere his father chose to send him. But each time when he stood
before those cold blue eyes, every word seemed to vanish from his
memory, and he looked so helpless and confused that his father shook his
head as he left the room, and said--

"I can't make the boy out. I don't think he will ever grow into a man."

When first Madeleine came to Sandsgaard, Gabriel had found it a great
relief to confide his woes to her. But now she had got too clever for
him, and refused to be frightened by his threats