s cool and steady a head in a gale
of wind as ever I came athwart; but, you see, you can't take your
liquor! You'd sooner keep the ducats in your pocket than serve them out
to the land-sharks ashore here. There, lad! take a drink of that; or
Naecken, the sea-devil, and all the Troll will be foul of your hawse
before you know where you are!'

"Elis Froebom jumped up quickly from the bench; glared angrily at
his shipmates; took the tumbler--which was filled to the brim with
brandy--and emptied it at a draught; then he said:

"'You see I can take my glass with any man of you, Ivens; and you can
ask the captain if I'm a good sailor-man, or not; so stow away that
long tongue of yours, and sheer off! I don't care about all this drink
and row here; and what I'm doing out here by myself is no business of
yours; you have nothing to do with it.'

"'All right, my hearty!' answered Ivens. 'I know all about it. You're
one of these Nerica men--and a moony lot the whole cargo of them are
too. They're the sort of chaps that would rather sit and pipe their eye
about nothing particular, than take a good glass, and see what the
pretty lasses at home are made of, after a twelve-month's cruize! But
just you belay there a bit. Steer full and bye, and stand off and on,
and I'll send somebody out to you that'll cut you adrift, in a pig's
whisper, from that old bench where you've cast your anchor.'

"They went; and presently a very pretty, rather refined-looking girl
came out of the tavern, and sat down beside the melancholy Elis, who
was still sitting, silent and thoughtful, on the bench. From her dress
and general appearance there could be no doubt as to her terrible
calling. But the life she was leading had not yet quite marred the
delicacy of the wonderfully tender features of her beautiful face;
there was no trace of repulsive boldness about the expression of her
dark eyes--rather a quiet, melancholy longing.

"'Aren't you coming to join your shipmates, Elis?' she said. 'Now that
you're back safe and sound, after all you've gone through on your long
voyage, aren't you glad to be home in the old country again?'

"The girl spoke in a soft, gentle voice, putting her arms about him.
Elis Froebom looked into her eyes, as if roused from a dream. He took
her hand; he pressed her to his breast. It was evident that what she
had said had made its way to his heart.

"'Ah!' he said, as if collecting his thoughts, 'it's no use talking
about my