Garman and Worse | Page 6

lay waiting with his boat off the
point of the Mole. Silly Hans was not with him, for both he and
Madeleine had agreed that it was not necessary when they were going
only for a row; and to-day all there was to do was to provide the
lobster-pots with fresh bait for the night.
One after another the fishermen rowed out through the narrow entrance.
Each one had some mischievous joke to throw on board Per's boat, and
more than once the annoying "Wait" was heard. He began to lose his
temper as he lay on his oars, gazing expectantly up at the lighthouse.
But there all was still. The solid little building looked so quiet and well
cared for in the bright sunshine, which shone on the polished
window-panes and on the bright red top of the lantern, where he could
see the lamp-trimmer going round on his little gallery, polishing the
prisms.
At last, after what seemed endless waiting, she came out on to the steps,
and in another moment she was across the yard, over the enclosure
which belonged to the lighthouse, out through the little gate in the
fence, and now she came in full career down the slope. "Have you been
waiting?" she cried, as she came on to the extreme point of the
breakwater. He was just going to tell her not to jump, but it was too late;
without lessening her speed, she had already sprung from the pier down
into the boat. Her feet slipped from her, and she fell in a sitting posture
on the bottom of the boat, while part of her dress hung in the water.
"Bother the women!" cried Per, who had told her at least a hundred
times not to jump; "now you have hurt yourself."
"No," answered she.

"Yes, you have."
"Well, just a little," she replied, looking stubbornly at him as the tears
came into her eyes; for she really had bruised her leg severely.
"Let me see," said Per.
"No, you shan't!" she answered, arranging her dress over her.
Per began to make for the shore.
"What are you going to do?"
"Going to get some brandy to rub your foot."
"That you certainly shan't."
"Well, then, you shan't go with me," answered Per.
"Very well, then; let me get out."
And before the boat quite touched the ground, she sprang on to the
shore, climbed on to the breakwater, and went hurriedly off homewards.
She clenched her teeth with the pain as she went, but still without
raising her eyes from the ground she followed the well-known path. As
she passed in front of the boat-houses, she had to step over oars,
tar-barrels, old swabs, and all sorts of rubbish, which was scattered
among the boats. All around lay the claws of crabs and the
half-decayed heads of codfish, in which the gorged and sleepy flies
were crawling in and out of the eye-sockets.
She reached the lighthouse without turning her head; she was
determined not to look back at him. At the top, however, she was
obliged to pause to get her breath; she surely might look and see how
far he got. Madeleine knew that the other fishermen had had a long
start, and expected, therefore, to find Per's boat far behind, between the
others and the shore. But it was not to be seen, neither there nor in the
harbour. All at once her eye caught the well-known craft, which was
not, however, far behind, but almost level with the others. Per must

have rowed like a madman. She was well able to estimate the distance,
and could appreciate such a feat of oarsmanship, and, entirely
forgetting her pain and that she was alone, she turned round as if to a
crowd of spectators, and pointing at the boats she said, with sparkling
eyes, "Look at him! that's the boy to row!"
Meanwhile Per sat in his boat, tearing at his oars till all cracked again.
It was as though he wished to punish himself by his gigantic efforts.
Her form grew smaller and smaller as he rowed out to sea, till at length
she was out of sight; but he had deserved it all. "Deuce take the
women!" and each time he repeated the words he sprang to his oars and
rowed as if for bare life.
The next day the same lovely weather continued, and the sea lay as
smooth as oil in the bright sunshine. An English lobster-cutter was in
the offing, with sails flapping against the mast, and the slack in the taut
rigging could be seen as the craft heaved lazily to and fro on the gentle
swell. Madeleine sat by the window; she did not care to go out. Her eye
followed the lobster-cutter, which