Engineer Boraeus of Borg was in the habit of strolling down to the
pier mornings to meet the steamer. He had only a short distance to
go, through his beautiful pine grove, and there was always some one
on the boat with whom he could exchange a few words to vary the
monotony of country life.
At the end of the grove, where the road began an abrupt descent to
the pier, were some large bare rocks upon which folk who had come
from a distance used to sit while waiting for the boat. And there
were always many who waited at the Borg pier, as there was never
any certainty as to when the boat would arrive. It seldom put in
before twelve o'clock, and yet once in a while it reached the pier
as early as eleven. Sometimes it did not come until one or two; so
that prompt people, who were down at the landing by ten o'clock,
often had to sit there for hours.
Engineer Boraeus had a good outlook over Lake Löven from his
chamber window at Borg. He could see when the steamer rounded the
point and never appeared at the landing until just in the nick of
time. Therefore he did not have to sit on the rocks and wait, and
would only cast a glance, in passing, at those who were seated
there. However, one summer, he noticed a meek-looking little man
with a kindly face sitting there waiting day after day. The man
always sat quite still, seemingly indifferent, until the boat hove
in sight. Then he would jump to his feet, his face shining with
joyous anticipation, and rush down the incline to the far end of
the pier, where he would stand as if about to welcome some one. But
nobody ever came for him. And when the boat pulled out he was as
alone as before. Then, as he turned to go home, the light of
happiness gone from his face, he looked old and worn; he seemed
hardly able to drag himself up the hill.
Engineer Boreaus was not acquainted with the man. But one day when
he again saw him sitting there gazing out upon the lake, he went up
and spoke to him. He soon learned that the man's daughter, who had
been away for a time, was expected home that day.
"Are you quite certain she is coming to-day?" said the engineer.
"I've seen you sitting here waiting ever day for the past two
months. In that case she must have sent you wrong instructions
before."
"Oh, no," replied the man quietly, "indeed she hasn't given me any
wrong instructions!"
"Then what in the name of God do you mean?" demanded the engineer
gruffly, for he was a choleric man. "You've sat here and waited day
after day without her coming, yet you say she has not given you
wrong instructions."
"No," answered the meek little man, looking up at the engineer with
his mild, limpid eyes, "she couldn't have, as she has not sent any
instructions."
"Hasn't she written to you?"
"No; we've had no letter from her since the first day of last
October."
"Then why do you idle away your mornings down here?" asked the
engineer, wonderingly. "Can you afford to leave off working like
this?"
"No," replied the man, smiling to himself. "I suppose it's wrong
in me to do so; but all that will soon be made good."
"Is it possible that you're such a stupid ass as to hang round here
when there's no occasion for it?" roared the engineer, furiously.
"You ought to be shut up in a madhouse."
The man said nothing. He sat with his hands clasped round his
knees, quite unperturbed. A smile played about his mouth all the
while, and every second he seemed more and more confident of his
ultimate triumph.
The engineer shrugged his shoulders and walked away, but before he
was halfway down the hill he repented his harshness, and turned
back. The stern forbidding look which his strong features
habitually wore was now gone and he put out his hand to the man.
"I want to shake hands with you," he said. "Until now I had always
thought that I was the only one in this parish who knew what it was
to yearn; but now I see that I have found my master."