Elsa had long since observed how very little the President liked remaining on board ship, and that he had only made up his mind to it with evident unwillingness, out of consideration for his travelling companions. She had been maliciously amused at first with the embarrassment which he tried to conceal, but now her good-nature conquered. He was after all an elderly gentleman, and apparently not very strong, and a civilian! he could not of course be expected to have either the intrepid courage or the indifference to hardships of her father, who had not even put on his greatcoat yet, and was now taking his usual evening walk up and down the deck. But papa had made up his mind, once for all, to remain; it would be quite useless to try to persuade him to go. "_He_ must devise some means!" said she to herself. Reinhold had disappeared after his last words with her father, and was not now on the after-deck; she went forward, therefore, and found him sitting on a great chest, looking through a pocket telescope towards the shore so intently that she had come close to him before he remarked her. He sprang hastily to his feet and turned towards her. "How far have they got?" asked Elsa. "They will land directly," he answered. "Will you look through this?" He handed her the glass. At the moment when she touched it the metal still retained some warmth from the hand which had held it. In general this was not at all a pleasant sensation to her, but on this occasion she did not perceive it. She thought of it for a moment as she tried to bring the spot which he pointed out to her within the focus of the glass. The attempt was unsuccessful; she could see nothing but undefined mist. "I would rather trust to my eyes!" cried she, putting down the telescope. "I can see it so, quite plainly, there close in shore--in the white streak. What is that?" "The surf." "What has become of the sail?" "It has been taken in so as not to have too much way on as they run in. But really you have a sailor's eye!" Elsa smiled at the compliment, and Reinhold smiled too. Their looks met, and remained turned upon each other. "I have a request to make to you," said Elsa, without dropping her eyes. "And I was about to make one to you," answered he, looking steadily into the brown stars which shone up towards him, "I wanted to ask you also to go on shore. We shall be afloat in an hour, but the night will be stormy, and we shall be obliged to anchor as soon as we have passed Wissow Head." He pointed to the promontory. "Under the best of circumstances the situation would not be pleasant, at the worst it might be very unpleasant. I should like to know that you were safe from either alternative." "Thank you," said Elsa, "and now my request need not be made;" and she told Reinhold why she had come. "That happens most fortunately," cried he, "but there is not a moment to lose. I will speak to your father immediately. We must go at once." "We?"