# Jan the Icelander/Chapter 4

But the time comes for young Harry Crow to return to England, and Jan the Icelander is all but broken-hearted. Again and again he has struggled to reveal himself, and as often as he has tried he has failed.
The cruise is at an end, and the day has come for the departure of Harry Crow's ship, the John Franklin. Such of Jan's own crew as are as Englishmen have decided to go home with her, and they are in the midst of busy preparations. Harry himself has come over to the Heckla in a yawl to take Jan's crew back to the John Franklin.
"So you won't go with us this cruise, Jan?"
"Not this cruise, my lad," says Jan.
The sailors bring up their kits and tumble them over the side to the boat lying moored on the starboard side of the ship.
During this bustling scene Jan draws young Harry aside, and says, "I suppose you'll be getting married as soon as you reach home, my Iad?"
"As soon as we get the banns published."
"You'll be married in that old church in the village, eh?"
"Nothing more likely, Jan."
"There'll be wedding presents, won't there?"
"As certain as fate."
"Don't you think you can take a bit of a present to your sweetheart from me?"
"Why, of course I can."
"Only a trifle, you know—a little thing I bought one day when I was ashore in Iceland."
Jan gives him a silver locket.
"A locket! And what a beauty, to be sure!"
"I meant it for my poor wife that time I was thinking of going home. See, there's her name on the face of it."
"Lucy! Then your wife's name was Lucy also!"
"Didn't I tell you before? Perhaps that's what put it into my head to give it you. 'It will just suit his sweetheart,' thinks I."
"And wonderful pretty she'll look in it, too, shipmate."
"Ask her to wear it on her wedding day, my lad."
"I will. I'll tell her it comes from the best sailor, and the best whaler, and the best fellow on the North Sea."
"Tell her the old man who sends it knew her father long years ago."
"Oh, I'll tell her all about you."
"Tell her he talked sometimes of his little girl at home."
"I'll not forget."
"She must try and think the best of her father, whatever he was—tell her that."
"Come and tell her yourself, Jan! Why not?"
"I'd only be a trouble to her—a bad trouble to both of you."
"A bad fiddlesticks! You've been blubber- hunting long enough, haven't you?"
"Too long to leave it now."
"Nonsense! Who wants to make a home of this blessed North Sea? Come and see us in dear old England, and I'll show you all the places you've heard about."
"Well, who knows? Perhaps, some day—"
"We'll drink your health on our wedding day too."
"You make me very happy my lad."
The last of the crew is about to slip down the side into the boat. He shouts, "All aboard, Master Harry!"
"A moment—only a moment ! I'm afraid I'll miss you badly."
"And I'll miss you too, Jan; bet your life on that."
"You've been the only one I could talk to, somehow."
"If Lucy wasn't expecting me now—" says the young fellow.
"Tut!" Jan lays hold of him by the shoulders. "Tut, tut, my boy! I'm not such a selfish old fogey as that! Do you think I want to keep you here for company for an old sea-dog like me? Not I. I want you to go to your sweetheart! Go to her, my son, go to her, go to her, and God bless you both!"
He pushes the boy off the deck, laughing wildly, and then falls back suddenly with a broken woe-begone face. A voice from the boat cries, "Now, boys, 'Home, sweet home.' "
The men start the song and sing it as they pull off from the ship's side. Jan leans against the water barrel with his head dropped back on the mast, and listens.
The young man has gone. The one gleam of light which has lit the blind and weary years has left him. He is alone once more. Oh! this lonely life, this desolate sea, this yearning for news, this hunger for home!
"I cannot bear it," he thinks: "I will go back. A little longer! Only a little longer! Till the last link has gone, the last trace is lost, and then—"
A long way off the voices of the sailors are dying away over the sea:
    Be it ever so humble
    There's no place like home.