conveyed the information; and the result of his brooding up there upon
the yard was a determination to desert as soon as the Juno arrived at
Rio. He would never go back to Arendal; and he would no longer tread the
same deck with the father of Carl Beck.

Later on in the night, when the moon had risen, Nils, who had not been
able to sleep in his hammock, came up to Salvé again, and drew him aside
behind the round-house, as if for a private conversation.

"What would I have done? you asked. I'll tell you," he said, after a
short pause, and his honest face seemed to express a vivid realisation
of the whole misery of the situation. "I would have died upon the
doorstep!"

Salvé stood and looked at him for a moment. There came a strange pallor
over his face in the moonlight.

"Look you," he said, ironically, laying his hand upon the other's
shoulder, "I have never a wife; but all the same, I am dead upon the
doorstep--" Then, in the next breath, and with a sudden change of tone,
he said, "Of course I am only joking, you know," and left him, with a
hard, forced laugh.

Nils remained where he was, and pondered, not knowing exactly how to
take it. It was possible Salvé had only been making fun of him. But
another feeling eventually predominated. It told him that he had had a
glimpse into a despairing soul; and he was profoundly moved.