They must have known, he thought to himself, how deeply this woman loved all that was beautiful. And it was with Sven as with all the rest, the land and sea. He was seen at his best to-day. They talked at first of the weather, and of all the beautiful things about them, and he taught her the names of all the rocks and islands as they passed. But after a while they came to speak of other things, of every possible thing, old things and new, as if they had been tried friends. And he laid aside the barrier of humility and shyness, and spoke freely and naturally, until she wondered, and thought that young men born by the sea, and voyaging early abroad to other lands, must gain an education and experience beyond others who spent all their days on land. She felt a real trust in him, for he was good and gentle and wise; she wished she knew him better, and had such a man to turn to when her own wits were at a loss. As for Sven, he had not spoken with her long before there came over him an intense longing to tell her of his sin, to confess it all to this innocent creature who knew nothing of sin herself. It crossed his mind that all those who had hitherto condemned and despised him were themselves well acquainted with sin and vice. All had no doubt at some time cheated, lied, stolen, borne false witness, been proud and merciless, idle, miserly, revengeful, or cruel. But this young girl from a pious home had lived a quiet and protected life, untouched by passion or covetousness. She had as yet no knowledge of sinful nature, her own or others'. She had never cherished an evil thought, never wished harm to any soul. He could not expect her to judge him over-leniently, for she was keenly sensitive, and could never control her abhorrence of all that was ugly and evil to her mind. But be that as it might, he would gladly submit to her judgment; she should be his court of appeal. He could not go to the King for justice, but he could go to her. For some time, however, he refrained, shy and uncertain of himself. And while he sat hesitating, he noticed that she had grown silent again. She seemed to be trying to say something that was hard to begin. At last, however, she made up her mind and came straight to the matter at once. "You saw I was crying when you came up before?" "Yes," he said. "I could not help seeing that." "It wasn't anything very much," she said. "Only a letter that came. It was from a friend of mine, a rich man's daughter, just married, and her husband was such a good man, clever, and looked up to by everyone; we all thought she would be so happy." "And now--you mean she is not?" Sven laid both hands on the tiller and leaned forward. He seemed keenly interested in all that concerned this friend of hers.