"Any one who is susceptible to them," he thought, "has no real cause to
feel small, for all their awful majesty."

He was standing near the log, the long line of which was trailing in
the ocean. The great ship was quivering under his feet. From the two
smoke-stacks the wind was pressing the smoke down over the waves, and a
melancholy procession of figures, widows in long crêpe veils, wringing
their hands in mute grief, drifted away backward, as if into the twilight
gloom of eternal damnation. He heard the talking of the passengers, and
represented to himself all that was united within the walls of that
immense house, hurrying forward restlessly--how much hunting, fleeing,
hoping, fearing. And in his soul, responding to the universal miracle,
arose the great unanswered questions that seek to penetrate to the dark
meaning of existence: "Why?" "What for?"




XIII


He began to pace the deck again without noticing that he drew near
Ingigerd Hahlström.

"You are wanted," a voice behind him suddenly announced. Seeing how he
started, Doctor Wilhelm excused himself.

"You were dreaming; you are a dreamer," Mara called. "Come over here.
I don't like these stupid men."