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"And yet Lovisa Elsland used to be as merry and lissom a lass as ever
stepped," said Gueldmar musingly. "I remember her well when both she and
I were young. I was always on the sea at that time,--never happy unless
the waves tossed me and my vessel from one shore to another. I suppose
the restless spirit of my fathers was in me. I was never contented
unless I saw some new coast every six months or so. Well! . . . Lovisa
was always foremost among the girls of the village who watched me leave
the Fjord,--and however long or short a time I might be absent, she was
certain to be on the shore when my ship came sailing home again. Many a
joke I have cracked with her and her companions--and she was a bonnie
enough creature to look at then, I tell you,--though now she is like a
battered figure-head on a wreck. Her marriage, spoiled her temper,--her
husband was as dark and sour a man as could be met with in all Norway,
and when he and his fishing-boat sank in a squall off the Lofoden
Islands, I doubt if she shed many tears for his loss.


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