Part 43 (1/2)

But they got the pilot, and made in to Risorbank just in time.

n.o.body shouted hurrah for Nils, and a stiff nip of grog was what he got when he came down; instead of a medal with ribbon and all that he'd maybe get nowadays.

Bernt Jorgensen was roused from his meditation by the sound of the salute on board the _Henrik Ibsen_. He rose and went up on deck to see what was going on. The shareholders, with wives and children, nephews and nieces and relatives generally, were making a tour of the vessel.

Cilia was down in the saloon, seated in state on a red plush sofa.

She did not feel altogether comfortable, to tell the truth, having acquired a horror of showy furniture since her own escapade in that direction. But she was proud to feel that ”we” had achieved the distinction of giving Strandvik its first steamer.

The trial trip was to take place while dinner was being served in the saloon.

The _Henrik Ibsen_ steamed along the fjord, beflagged from deck to top, and greeted with cheers from all along the waterside; not a citizen of Strandvik but felt a thrill of pride in his citizens.h.i.+p that day.

The dinner was a most festive affair. The conversation ran gaily on the topic of freights and steams.h.i.+p traffic. Old Klementsen already saw in his mind's eye a whole fleet of Strandvik steamers putting out to sea with flags flying, and coming home laden deep with gold to the beloved little town.

Justice Heidt, guest of honour in his capacity as princ.i.p.al representative of local authority, made a speech, in which he referred to ”Strandvik's first steams.h.i.+p, a tangible witness to the high degree of initiative among our business men. The vessel has been named after a great poet, and it is our hope that it will, like its famous namesake, add to our country's credit and renown in distant lands. Good luck and prosperity to the _Henrik Ibsen_.” The toast was received with hearty cheers from all.

Someone proposed the health of Soren Braaten, as leader in the enterprise, and Cilia's too, as the guiding spirit of the undertaking; then the captain's health was drunk, and many more.

All were excited to a high pitch of enthusiasm. Old Klementsen, delighted to feel himself a s.h.i.+powner, sat in a corner with a magnum of champagne before him, delivered an oration on the subject of time-charter on the China coast; he had read an article on the subject in a paper, and was greatly impressed by the same.

”Beautifully steady, isn't she?” said Cilia to her husband. Hardly had she spoken, however, when, ”Brrr--drrrrum--drrrum--drrrum”--the pa.s.sengers were thrown headlong in all directions, and Cilia herself was flung into the arms of Justice Heidt, the two striking their heads together with a force that made both dizzy for the moment.

Bottles, gla.s.ses and plates were scattered about, adding to the general confusion.

So violent was the shock that many thought the boiler had burst, and something approaching panic prevailed.

Schoolmaster Pedersen was screaming like a maniac. In his anxiety to see what was happening, he had thrust his head through one of the portholes, and could not get it back despite his utmost efforts.

Everyone else was too much occupied to help him, and there he stood, unable to move.

The rest of the party hurried up on deck, all save Klementsen, who, having emptied his magnum, felt himself unable to get up the companion, and wisely refrained from making the attempt.

The _Henrik Ibsen_ had struck on a sunken reef. The excitement of the occasion, together with the generous good cheer, had had their effect on the crew, who had not paid much heed to their course, with the result that the vessel had taken her own, until brought up all standing by the unexpected obstacle.

The bow had run right on the shelf of rock, and things looked distinctly unpleasant, until Soren Braaten explained that ”unfortunately” there was shallow water on all sides, when the company began to feel somewhat easier in their minds.

Cilia's head was treated with vinegar bandages, and Justice Heidt's nose bound up as if in sympathy with the damage inside. But the festive spirit among the shareholders generally was at a low ebb, and anyone taking advantage of the moment might have bought shares then at well below par.

Aha, there is a tug already, the _Storegut_; things looked brighter in a moment, perhaps they might get off at once. But then came the question, had she sprung a leak? No; sound as a bell. A proper sort of steamer this.

A hawser was pa.s.sed from the tug, then full speed astern--Hurrah--she's moving! The Henrik Ibsen drew slowly off the reef and was soon clear once more. The pa.s.sengers brightened up, and soon the steamer was on her way back to Strandvik, the tug standing by in case of need.

Nachmann's supply of champagne was inexhaustible, and Thor Smith got on his feet with another speech for ”the splendid vessel which has stood the test so manfully to-day. The _Henrik Ibsen_ was not built for picnic voyages over sunny seas; no, she had shown what she could do and borne it magnificently.” Cheers for the _Henrik Ibsen_ and general acclamation.

Then the whole company joined in the song:

”And what though I ran my s.h.i.+p aground, It was grand to sail the seas!”