In Midsummer Days and Other Tales | Page 9

word was uttered. And now
he heard more sounds, sounds of canvas being furled, or clothes passed
through a mangle, or something of that sort.
The conductor felt compelled to get up and look, and he went,
commending his soul into the hands of the Almighty.
Well, first of all he saw Louisa's print-dress disappearing through the
kitchen door; then he saw blinds, but blinds which had been pulled up;

he saw the dining-table covered with flowers, arranged in glasses; as
many flowers as there had been on his wedding-day when he had
brought his bride home.
And behold! The sun, the sun shone right into his face, shone on blue
fjords and distant woods; it was the sun which had illuminated the
sitting-room and played all the little tricks. He blessed the sun which
had been up so early in the morning and made a game of the sluggard.
And he blessed the memory of her whom he called the sun of his life. It
was not a new name, but he could not think of a better one, and as it
was, it was good enough.
And on his altar stood a rose, quite fresh, as fresh as she had been
before the never-ending work had tired her. Tired her! Yes, she had not
been one of the strong ones; and life with its blows and knocks had
been too brutal for her! He had not forgotten how, after a day's cleaning
or ironing, she would throw herself on the sofa and say in a
complaining little voice, "I am so tired!" Poor little thing, this earth had
not been her home, she had only played once, on tour, as it were, and
then had gone far away.
"She lacked sunshine," the doctor had said, for at that time they
couldn't afford sun, because rooms on the sunny side are so expensive.
But now he had sun without having known it; he stood right in the
sunlight, but it was too late. Midsummer was past, and soon the sun
would disappear again, stay away for a year and then come back.
Things are very strange in this world!

THE PILOT'S TROUBLES
The pilot cutter lay outside, beyond the last beacon fire on the headland;
the winter sun had set long ago and the sea ran high; it was the real sea
with real huge breakers. Suddenly the first mate signalled: "Sailing ship
to windward."
Far out at sea, a long way off the harbour, a brig was visible; she had

backed her sails and hoisted the pilot's flag; she was asking to be taken
into port.
"Look out!" shouted the master-pilot, who was standing at the helm.
"We'll have a job in this sea, but we must try and get hold of her in
tacking, and you, Victor, throw yourself into her rigging as soon as you
get the chance ... bring the boat round! Now! Clear!"
The cutter turned and steered a course to the brig which lay outside,
pitching.
"Queer that she should have furled all her canvas. ... Can any one see a
light aboard? No! And no light on the masthead, either! Look out,
Victor!" Now the cutter was alongside; Victor stood waiting on the
gunwale, and the next time she rose on the crest of a big wave, he leapt
into the rigging of the brig, while the cutter sheered off, tacked, and
made for the harbour.
Victor sat in the rigging, half-way between deck and cross-trees, trying
to recover his breath before descending on deck. As soon as he came
down he went to the helm, which was quite the right thing for him to do.
Imagine how shocked he was when he found it deserted! He shouted
"Ho there!" but received no reply.
"They're all inside, drinking," he thought, peering through the cabin
windows. No, not a soul! He crossed over to the kitchen, examined the
quarterdeck,--not a living being anywhere. Then he realised that he was
on a deserted ship; he concluded that she had sprung a leak and was
sinking.
He tried to discover the whereabouts of the cutter, but she had
disappeared in the darkness.
It was quite impossible for him to make port. To set the sails, haul in
the brails and bowlines, and at the same time stand at the helm, was
more than any sailor could manage.
There was nothing to b0e done, then, but let the vessel drift, although

he was aware of the fact that she was drifting out to sea.
It would not be true to say that he was pleased, but a pilot is prepared
for anything, and the thought that he might possibly meet a sailing ship
by and by, reassured him. But it was necessary to show a light and
signal.