A little child wrapped up in swaddling clothes,
A child reposing under a coverlet of wool?"

Jan watched the scene until he could endure the heart-torture no
longer. Had he not been so shabby, so ragged, so weather-stained, he
would have forced his way to his wife's presence. But on such
apparently insignificant trifles hang generally the great events of
life. He could not bear the thought of this fair, calm, spotless woman
seeing him in such a plight. He went back to Snorro, and was very
cross and unreasonable with him, as he had been many times before. But
Snorro was one of those rare, noble souls, who can do great and
hopeless things, and continue to love what they have seen fall.

He not only pitied and excused Jan, he would not suffer any one to
wrong, or insult him. All Torr's regular visitors feared the big man
with the white, stern face, who so often called for Jan Vedder, and
who generally took his friend away with him. Any thing that is genuine
commands respect, and Snorro's love for Jan was so true, so tender,
and unselfish, that the rudest soul recognized his purity. Even in
Peter's store, and among the better class who frequented it, his
honest affection was not without its result.

Jan usually avoided the neighborhood when Peter was there, but one
afternoon, being half intoxicated, he went rolling past, singing
snatches of "The Foula Reel." He was ragged and reckless, but through
every disadvantage, still strikingly handsome. Michael Snorro lifted
himself from the barrel which he was packing, and stood watching Jan
with a face full of an inexpressible sorrow. Some one made a remark,
which he did not hear, but he heard the low scornful laugh which
followed it, and he saw Peter Fae, with a smile of contempt, walk to
the door, and glance up the street after Jan.

"One thing I know," said Snorro, looking angrily at the group, "all
of you have laughed in a very great company, for when a good man takes
the road to hell, there also laughs the devil and all his angels. Yes,
indeed."

It was as if a thunderbolt had fallen among them. Peter turned to his
books, and one by one the men left the store, and Jan Vedder's name
was not spoken again before Snorro by any one.

During the fishing season Jan went now and then to sea, but he had no
regular engagement. Some said he was too unreliable; others, more
honest, acknowledged they were superstitious about him. "Sooner or
later ill luck comes with him," said N