e more skillful guidance, the
two oars of the latter could not overtake the four men. But the
lieutenant's full strong voice could still be heard:--

"Stop, or I will shoot you to the bottom!"

But he did not shoot, for the smugglers' boat was already out of the
reach of shot.

At this moment it would have been impossible to detect the least trace
of the amiable, good-natured Gudmar Guldbrandsson, the favorite of all
the ladies, with his light yellow curls and his slightly arched
forehead, and the beautiful dark blue eyes, which when not enlivened
by the power of some passion, sometimes revealed that half-dreamy
expression that women so often admire.

Majke ought to have seen her commander now, as he stood for a moment
on the deck, leaning on his gun, his glass in his hand.

"Row, boys, row with all your might! I will not allow--" The remainder
of the sentence was lost in inarticulate tones.

Once more he raised the glass to his eyes.

The chase lasted some time, without any increase of the intervening
distance, or any hope of its diminution. It was a grave, a terrible
chase.

Meantime new and strange intentions had occurred to the commander of
the smugglers' boat. From what dark source could he have received the
inspiration that dictated the command?

"Knock out the bung of the top brandy-barrel, and let us drink; that
will refresh our courage and rejoice our hearts. Be merry and drink as
long as you like."

And now ensued a wild bacchanalia. The men drank out of large mugs,
they drank out of cans, and the result was not wanting, while the boat
was nearing the entrance to the sea.

"Now, my men," began Olagus in powerful penetrating tones, as he
stroked his reddish beard, "shall we allow one of those government
fools to force us to go a different way from the one we ourselves wish
to go?"

"Olagus," Tuve ventured to interpose,--for Tuve still possessed full
consciousness, as he had only made a pretense of drinking,--"dear
Olagus, let us be content if we can place the goods in safety. I think
I perceive that you mean something else--something dangerous."

"Coward! You ought to sit at home and help your father weave nets. If
you are afraid, creep under the tarpaulin; there are others here who
do not get the cramp when they are to follow the Moerkoe Bears."

"For my part," thought Boerje, as he bent over his oar, "I should like
to keep away from this hunt. But who dare speak a word? I feel as
though I w