It seems that some hundred years back there lived on Gray Island an infamous old troll named Tita Gray, who was said to be more powerful than the Old Nick himself. When she was alive no human being was allowed to set foot on the island. Those who ventured met with instant mishap--broke an arm or a leg or slipped on the slimy rocks, and fell into the sea. Since Tita Gray had long been dead and gone, it must be quite safe to visit the island, they thought. All the same the skipper warned them. He told how he and a couple of fellows were walking across the island one day in the spring, when suddenly one of them went down a cleft and fractured his leg. That made the island all the more alluring to the party; they could hardly wait to set foot on it. Presently the boat turned toward the island and slipped in under the towering cliff wall. The skipper looked for a suitable mooring place. Just then little Anna pulled at her mother’s arm, and said: “Mamma, Selma is crying.” True, the child sat weeping. She had not been at all afraid during the sail--not till that moment. She, like the others, had thought it would be great fun to go ashore on Gray Island; but now that they were right under the rocky cliff, it looked so dark and menacing. They all asked her why she was crying, but she would not say. She could not tell them she was afraid of a rock. However, she escaped further questioning, for the skipper had at last found a landing-place, and they had something else to think of. The instant the boat struck, Professor Lundström seized the painter and jumped ashore. Then, as if an invisible hand had dealt him a blow in the chest, he staggered backwards and slipped off the ledge into the sea. There was great consternation, and cries of alarm went up, but there was no long agony of suspense. With the swiftness of a gull after a fish, the skipper reached over the side of the boat, nabbed the long professor by the coat-collar and drew him up, dripping wet, of course, but quite unhurt. Naturally, they were all very much shaken by the ghastly sight of a man going down into the perilous deep, and though, luckily, nothing serious had happened, they could not throw off their depression. Professor Lundström then suggested that the whole party go ashore, and let him take the boat so that he might go back to Strömstad and change his clothes. As it was only a short sail, the boat could return for them whenever they wished. But they had had enough of Gray Island. No one felt the least desire to step ashore and climb the threatening cliff. As they sailed back to Strömstad they must have wondered if after all there was not some truth in the old myth about the island. In any case, it was a strange coincidence that the mishap should have occurred just there. They had been to most of the other little islands of the Strömstad skerries, and all had gone well.