aid.

A few minutes more separated us, and I wandered down the mountain. The
beauty of face and form,--the childish simplicity,--the virtue and
innocence of Gunilda's heart,--gave a nobler impulse to mine. I retired
to rest, but slept not; for when I dozed, the clouds would lower around
the yacht, and, the wind blowing with overwhelming force, every
successive wave threatened the little bark with instant destruction;
then, lo! the black vapours would rise from the surface of the sea, and
rolling away to the south, leave all the heaven clear and blue; and
there, shining in the west, the crescent moon, not three days old, would
slant quite close to Hesperus, twinkling by her nether edge, to help and
show the way across the ocean; and while the fair breeze filled the
sails, and all the sailors sang for joy, a linnet, blown from off the
land, would, shivering, perch upon the yard; and when the boatswain
strove to catch the bird, for fear it flew away and should be lost, the
foolish thing would stretch its wings and, fluttering, fall within the
vessel's course to sink beneath her bows; and when it rose again a long
way in her wake, I thought I heard Gunilda's screams for help, and I
would wake.

Then when I awoke, throughout the night, scaring the timid spirit of
sleep, a thousand dogs ashore howled and bayed the moon, as if all the
ghosts of the million souls that had perished since the far times when
Norway became the abode of men, had returned to earth, and were walking
through the streets of Christiania.

The dark grey mantle of morning had only enveloped the shades of night,
when I banished sleep, and the hour being yet too early to leave my bed,
I lay listening to the growls of Sailor, as he remonstrated with Jacko
for coming too close to him; while Jacko, in a low, murmuring twitter,
pointed out how scantily the straw was spread in the hutch, and how
chilly felt the Northern air to him, a little Indian born between the
Tropics.

"Well, D----," I said, about five hours afterwards, when I had gone on
deck, and saw the sailing-master sitting without his jacket, on the
taffrail, abaft the shrouds, smoking his morning pipe, "What do you
think of the day? Shall we move to-day?"

"Why, sir," replied D----, capping me, "what little wind there is, draws
up the Fiord, dead on end; but, as the day goes on, it's just as likely
to draw down. You see, sir," he said, directing my attention to some
fleecy clouds, not larger tha