tly
under easy sail.

A chopping sea, caused by the ebbing tide, was breaking outside the
cape which marked the entrance to Sandsgaard Bay.

As the _Hope of the Family_ rounded the point, she seemed to feel
that she was safe at home. Captain Worse winked at the helmsman, and
declared that the old thing knew well enough where she was now that
they were round.

The _Hope of the Family_ was not quite like other ships. It might be
that some looked smarter and lighter; indeed, it was not entirely
beyond the range of possibility--though, as for Jacob Worse, he had
never yet seen such a one--that, amongst the new-fangled English
craft, one or two might be found that could sail just the least
trifle better.

No further admission, however, would he make. Anything stronger, more
seaworthy, or more complete than the _Hope_ did not, and never would,
float upon the sea. The sun shone brightly upon the buildings at
Sandsgaard, on the garden and the wharf, and over all the pleasant
bay, where the summer ripples chased each other to the land, hurrying
on with the news that Jacob Worse had entered the fjord.

Zacharias, the man at the wharf, had, however, already announced the
fact.

"Are you so sure about it?" asked Consul Garman sharply.

"We've made her out with the telescope, Herr Consul, and I'm as sure
it's the _Hope_ as that I am a living sinner. She is steering right
in for Sandsgaard Bay."

Morten W. Garman rose up from his armchair. He was a tall, ponderous
man, with crisp white hair and a heavy underlip.

As he took his hat and stick, his hand trembled a little, for the
_Hope_ had been away a very long time at sea. In the outer office the
book-keeper was standing by the little outlook window; taking the
telescope from his hand, the Consul spied out over the fjord, and
then closing the glass, said: "All right; Jacob Worse is a man one
can depend upon."

It was the first time that a ship from those parts had sailed to Rio
de Janeiro, and the perilous voyage had been due entirely to Jacob
Worse's enterprise.

He had, however, been away so long that the Consul had given up the
_Hope_, as he had given up so many other ships of late years.

Although he was now relieved of all anxiety on account of the ship
and his trusty Captain Worse, his footstep was heavy, and resounded
sadly as he left the office and strode through the entrance hall,
whence a broad staircase led up to the next story.

Much more, indeed, than