He moved towards her, but seeing her shrink away from him, he stopped. Ragna put out a trembling hand, and with a shaking voice said: "Oh, why did you! Oh, you have spoiled it all!" She turned to the rail, and hiding her face in her hands began to cry. Mirko was really touched and concerned. He had no idea that a girl could take a kiss so seriously, it gave him the measure of her innocence. He came to her side and putting his hand on her shoulders tried to console her with awkward phrases, but she still sobbed on. At last he began to be annoyed and said rather sharply: "What are you weeping so about anyway? Your life is not ruined, I have kissed you, but I have apologized--I would never have done so if I had known you would take it like this!" Ragna looked up, bewilderment on her face. What! He could take it so lightly! Then it was not so terrible after all? The poor child had felt herself dishonoured for ever. "But you will despise me for letting you kiss me!" He was quick to seize the advantage. "Despise you? Never in the world! What a little goose you are! What harm is there in a kiss? And don't worry about it, I took it without your consent--but you liked it--come now, be honest and admit that! I know you liked it, I felt it!" He stopped, seeing that he was going too far. Ragna had turned away from him, her face burning. It was quite true, too true, she had felt herself respond. What right had she to be indignant, since she must acknowledge to herself that she had not resisted him, that she had not wished to. His low vibrant voice continued: "And one thing you can never change, never drive from your memory,--I have had your first kiss; you will never forget that. No woman ever forgets her first kiss, or her first lover:--" He paused hearing footsteps approaching over the deck, and stepped to the girl's side. "Someone is coming," he said; "for God's sake pull yourself together and remember that a kiss is not a crime. Come now, tell me you forgive me, quick!" His voice had an imperious note, and Ragna yielded to it; she turned to him, tears still shining on her long lashes in the moonlight. "There, you do forgive me, it is understood?" "Yes," she murmured. "Pull your cloak up about your shoulders and hook it," he ordered and she obeyed. The footsteps had by now made the tour of the deck and were approaching the sheltered nook; they rang loud in the silence. It was Captain Petersen and as he hove in sight, his cheerful voice woke the echoes: "So here I find them as snug as you please! Well, well, a moonlight night and the deck of a good ship, and a pair of young folk to profit by it all--what more could one want?"