And the same anxious expression rested upon the plump face of his Stine, who had just appeared in the doorway, and with both hands, usually so busy, idly folded under her apron, began to gaze at the blue morning sky and shining white clouds scattered over it, without even noticing her Jochen, who was standing scarcely six paces away. "No, no," sighed Stine. "Yes, yes," said Jochen. "Jochen, how you frightened me!" "And it is frightful, when one thinks of it," said Jochen. He had opened the spy-glass again, and was evidently about to resume his former occupation; but Stine took it out of his hands, put it in its place, and said in a somewhat irritated tone, "You do nothing but look through the old thing, and I so worried that I hardly know whether I'm on my head or my heels." "Oh! but if you don't know, Stine"-- "How am I to know? Why are you my husband, if I, poor creature, am expected to know everything? And she has just asked me again whether the Swede is not yet here. Poor girl! To go all that long way in such a nutshell of a boat! And who knows whether the people over yonder will want her. They are only fourth or fifth cousins." Stine had spoken with great emotion, but in a suppressed tone, and had drawn her Jochen out to the blackthorn hedge that divided the sandy little garden from the sandy village-street. Jochen had a vague perception that as a man and a husband, and moreover sole innkeeper of Wiessow, he must say something, so he replied: "You'll see, Stine, we sha'n't carry it through." "Jochen, I wouldn't have believed you were so bad," exclaimed Stine, as, sobbing violently and pressing both red hands over her eyes, she turned away from her husband and went back to the house. Jochen was left standing by the hedge, and raised his arms; but the spy-glass was resting quietly in its place, and, in consideration of his wickedness, he did not venture to take down the care-dispeller. So he let his arms fall again and thrust his hands into his pockets. Thank God, here was his pipe! It now had many idle hours, for Stine could not bear smoking, and if she should see him now when she was so angry, she probably would not make friends again. Jochen let the pipe slide back into his pocket, and gazed at the sparkling sea like one who, without any optical instrument, still sees only too distinctly the spot where just now a majestic ship went down with all on board. "Good-morning, Prebrow," said a voice close beside him. Jochen slowly turned his blue eyes from the distant horizon towards the gentleman who, with the collar of his coat turned up over his ears, had just passed along by the hedge with hasty strides. "Good-morning, Herr In--" "St--" said the gentleman, stopping and putting his finger on his lips. Jochen nodded. "To-night!" continued the gentleman; "I tell you, because, after everything has gone on well, until now, somebody might at the last moment get some suspicion, and inquire of you. Of course you don't know me."