solemn and mysterious whispers. "It seems she had begun to worry
about us; she was afraid we two wouldn't get on by ourselves.
Before she had always walked between us, she said, with one hand in
mine and the other in yours, and in that way everything had gone
well. But now that she wasn't here to keep us together she didn't
know what might happen, 'Now perhaps father and mother will go
their separate ways,' she said."

"Sakes alive!" gasped Katrina, "that she should have thought of
that!" The woman was so affected by what had just been said--for
the words were the echo of her own thoughts--that she quite forgot
that the daughter could not possibly have come back to the pier and
talked with Jan without her seeing it.

"'So now I've come back to join your hands,' said he, 'and you
mustn't let go of each other, but keep a firm hold for my sake till
I return and link hands with you again.' As soon as she had said
this she rowed away."

There was silence for a moment on the pier.

"And here's my hand," Jan said presently, in an uncertain voice
that betrayed both shyness and anxiety--and put out a hand, which
despite all his hard toil had always remained singularly soft. "I
do this because the girl wants me to," he added.

"And here's mine," said Katrina. "I don't understand what it could
have been that you saw, but if you and the girl want us to stick
together, so do I."