That evening was passed by Elizabeth in a terrible struggle with
herself. When Gjert had brought her clothes she had turned very pale,
and had felt as if she had undertaken what she would not have strength
to carry through. And now that the decisive moment had nearly come, this
feeling increased almost to despair.
They had all gone to bed in the house. It was so quiet about her; and a
feeling came over her such as she had experienced that time on the
Apollo, as she sat and waited whilst they approached the sandbanks.
Early next morning the crisis would inevitably come; and it was a
question now of losing more than the brig--of losing all they jointly
possessed on earth! She saw a long, dreary life-strand stretching away
beyond.
This time it was she who was at the helm, and steering a desperate
course--to save her love. A solemn look came over her face. The prayer
for seamen in danger, which she had so often used when the gusts were
shaking the house out there on Merdö, and she sat waiting for him in her
solitary home, came into her head now--the prayer that God might save
him from a sudden death.
A sudden death!
If he really had been lost on one of those many occasions when he had
parted from her with bitterness and anger in his heart! Would her love
then have been a blessing to him?
"No, Salvé!" she cried; "you shall not have me to thank for such a life
in your last hour!"
In the night she awoke with a scream. She had dreamt that Salvé was
going to leave her for ever, and she cried frantically after him,
"Salvé! Salvé!"