“Aren’t you glad, Back-Kaisa, to be alone with me? Aren’t you glad, Back-Kaisa, the baby isn’t along?” There came no response now, either; and wondering, the child turned so that she could see the nurse’s face.... Back-Kaisa sat holding on to the seat, a fixed stare in her eyes, her lips compressed, her face the hue of ashes. “Isn’t Back-Kaisa glad----?” But the little girl now saw that Back-Kaisa was far from glad and she was so crestfallen she could have cried. Then at last Back-Kaisa spoke: “Hush up, Selma! You mustn’t talk when you’re facing such danger! Never’ve I known worse! But for your sake, I’d ’ve got down and gone home long ago.” The little girl sat pondering the reply, not quite satisfied. She was never afraid when with Back-Kaisa, so why should Back-Kaisa be afraid when she was with _her?_ It was nice of her, though, not to get down and go home; but it would have been nicer if she had felt too happy to be scared. IV IN THE CABIN ON THE “UDDEHOLM” THE Mårbacka folk, though still on their journey, no longer sat in fear and trembling in the jolting carriage. Now they were on board a fine steamer called the _Uddeholm._ They had spent the day in Karlstad, shopping and visiting with relatives. Toward evening they left the city and stood waiting a good while on the long pier that shoots far out into big Lake Vänern. No shore being visible in one direction, Back-Kaisa had at once become alarmed; she thought that _over there_ must be the edge of the world. Wonderful to behold--for her as for the others--was the pretty steamer as she emerged from that “shoreless place” and came gliding toward the pier to take them on board. When Back-Kaisa saw how her master and mistress, Mamselle Lovisa, Johan, and Anna all went up the gangplank without the least hesitancy, she of course followed, albeit reluctantly. She probably thought Lieutenant Lagerlöf had conscience enough not to expose his little ones deliberately to the peril of death. But what would become of them once they reached the world’s end? That was something beyond her ken. She would have liked to remain on deck to see whether the water went down a chasm, or wherever it went. But when dusk began to settle, the Mårbacka women and children were requested to go below-decks. They were conducted into something called a cabin, the smallest room they had ever seen, where they arranged themselves for the night. On a narrow sofa that took up the whole side of one wall, Fru Lagerlöf lay without undressing. Opposite, on a similar sofa, was Mamselle Lovisa. Over Fru Lagerlöf, on a sort of shelf, Johan was stowed, and Anna occupied another shelf above Mamselle Lovisa’s sofa. On the floor, between the two sofas, with some blankets under them, lay Back-Kaisa and Selma. Thus, every bit of space was occupied; there was not the least little corner where one might stand or sit.