see her on his return, he would tell
her how sorry he was, he would sell The Solan and give back the L600;
he would even humble himself to Peter, and go back to the store, if
there were no other way to make peace with Margaret. He felt that no
personal sacrifice would be too great, if by it he could win back his
home, and wife, and son. The babe had softened his heart. He told
himself--oh, so often--"Thou art a father;" and no man could have had
a sweeter, stronger sense of the obligations the new relation imposed.
He was so sure of himself that he could not help feeling equally sure
of Margaret, and also of Peter. "For the child's sake, they will
forgive me, Snorro, and I'll do well, yes, I will do well for the
future."

Snorro had many fears, but he could not bear to throw cold water on
Jan's hopes and plans for reformation. He did not believe that his
unconditional surrender would be a good foundation for future
happiness. He did not like Jan's taking the whole blame. He did not
like his giving up The Solan at Margaret's word. Neither Peter Fae,
nor his daughter, were likely to exalt any one who humbled himself.

"It is money in the hand that wins," said Snorro, gloomily, "and my
counsel is, that thou bear thyself bravely, and show her how well The
Solan hath done already, and how likely she is to clear herself and
pay back that weariful L600 before two years have gone away. If she
will have it, let her have it. Jan, how could she give thee up for
L600! Did she love thee?"

"I do believe she did--and does yet, Snorro."

"Only God, then, understands women. But while thou art away, think
well of this and that, and of the things likely to follow, for still I
see that forethought spares afterthought and after-sorrow."

With words like these ringing in his ears, Jan again sailed The Solan
out of Lerwick. He intended to make a coasting voyage only, but he
expected delay, for with November had come storm and cold, fierce
winds and roaring seas. Edging along from port to port, taking
advantage of every tide and favorable breeze, and lying to, when
sailing was impossible, six weeks were gone before he reached Kirkwall
in the Orkneys. Here he intended to take in his last cargo before
steering for home. A boat leaving Kirkwall as he entered, carried the
news of The Solan's arrival to Lerwick, and then Snorro watched
anxiously every tide for Jan's arrival.

But day after day passed and The Solan came not. No one but Snor