CHAPTER XI.

THE FISHERMAN.


The usually turbulent lake Wenner, presented, on the evening of which we
are about to write, an unruffled and mirror-like appearance. In its
clear bosom was reflected the lofty cliffs of mount Kinnekulle, and
sloop after sloop passed over this gigantic image until a puffing
steamboat dashed over it and the picture was lost in the foaming spray
in her wake.

Almvik was situated on a truly romantic spot near the margin of the
lake, of which a magnificent view could be obtained from the mansion.
The surface of the lake this evening presented a pleasing spectacle.
Fishes were leaping out of the water near little boats which were
swinging at anchor, or were being pulled by sturdy fishermen who were
going forth to ensnare the subjects of the water Queen; but the proud
Queen, who, from her crystal palace beheld the danger, commanded her
subjects to retreat, and quickly the sportive fishes hastened to the
depths of the water that afforded them a barrier through which their
enemies could not break.

In consequence of these manoeuvers on the part of the water Queen, our
friend Mr. Fabian, who frequently endeavored to capture her subjects,
was invariably unsuccessful. Undoubtedly this must have been a source of
much misery to the poor man, for he was situated between two iron wills,
namely that of his wife and that of the water Queen; the latter would