the minister turned and looked at the young
man. It was plain that he was on the verge of insensibility again. He
took his arm and led him to a couch. "Lie down, Jan;" then turning to
Peter he said, "Thy son has had no food to-day. He is faint and
suffering. Let thy women make him some tea, and bring him some bread
and meat."

"I have said that he shall not eat bread in my house."

"Then thou hast said an evil and uncharitable thing. Unsay it, Peter.
See, the lad is fainting!"

"I can not mend that. He shall not break bread in my house."

"Then I say this to thee. Thou shalt not break bread at thy Lord's
supper in His house. No, thou shalt not, for thou would be doing it
unworthily, and eating damnation to thyself. What saith thy Lord
Christ? If thine enemy hunger, feed him. Now, then, order the bread
and tea for Jan Vedder."

Peter called a woman servant and gave the order. Then, almost in a
passion, he faced the minister, and said, "Oh, sir, if thou knew the
evil this man hath done me and mine!"

"In such a case Christ's instructions are very plain--'Overcome evil
with good.' Now, thou knowest thy duty. If thou sin, I have warned
thee--the sin is on thy own head."

Jan heard nothing of this conversation. The voices of the two men were
only like spent waves breaking on the shores of his consciousness. But
very soon a woman brought him a basin of hot tea, and he drank it and
ate a few mouthfuls. It gave him a little strength, he gathered
himself together, opened the door, and without speaking went out into
the night. The minister followed, watching him carefully, until he saw
Michael Snorro take him in his big arms, and carry him to a pile of
seal-skins. Then he knew that he was in good hands.

Poor Jan! He was utterly spent and miserable. The few minutes he had
passed at Margaret's side, had brought him no comfort. He heard her
constantly muttering his name, but it was in the awful, far-distant
voice of a soul speaking through a dream. She was unconscious of his
presence; he trembled in hers. Just for a moment Thora had allowed him
to lift his son, and to press the tiny face against his own. Then all
was darkness, and a numb, aching sorrow, until he found himself in
Snorro's arms.

Many days Margaret Vedder lay between life and death, but at length
there was hope, and Jan sailed again. He went away very miserable,
though he had fully determined it should be his last voyage if
Margaret wished it so. He would