# Mårbacka/Part 1, Chapter 6

Now the Mårbacka folk had no anxiety in providing for the table; they had only to run out to the market and purchase whatever was needed. They were not worrying about the cows not having good pasturage, nor the oats not coming up; they lived amid barren cliffs and water, and had forgotten there were such things in the world as fields and meadows. Nor did they have to stand in a hot kitchen preparing fancy dishes for far-come guests, nor worry their heads out of joint wondering where they'd find sleeping-room and bedding enough for all. If the animals sickened or the housekeeper and the maids fell to quarrelling, they were blissfully unaware of it. They had freedom and leisure for healthful amusements, with no cares or annoyances of any sort.
Never had they led such an easy, comfortable life. Fru Lagerlöf, who had come to Strömstad rather thin and worn, took on flesh and colour. She soon looked and felt ten years younger. Mamselle Lovisa, who was quite stout and logy, and so diffident she could hardly open her mouth when among strangers, lost weight, grew better looking, and more sociable. Johan and ​Anna made many friends among the little Strömstad children. Johan was quite wild about crabbing, and Anna had become so attached to two little girls, daughters of the confectioner, who were continually treating her to sweets, they both declared they never wanted to go home again.
As for the little sick girl, there had been no marked improvement; she was apparently no better or stronger. But that did not seem to trouble her. She had got her wish; Back-Kaisa and she were again inseparable friends; she could order her about and was being petted and spoiled by her just as in the first days of her illness.
But the one who had the best time was Lieutenant Lagerlöf. The first week or so he must have got many a sharp look and curt reply when he spoke to every person he met, as was his wont when walking along the road at home. But he was not daunted. It was a point of honour with him to be on friendly terms with people. Nor could the Strömstaders resist him in the long run. A smile lighted up the solemn faces of the pious women of the Schartuan sect when they passed him in the street. He had been in their cottages and drunk coffee with them, had asked after their husbands, and had praised their children. A gang of small boys tagged after him in the street, for they had discovered that he always had a pocketful of coppers. With the fishermen he was on so solid a footing that one after another asked him to go out mackerel fishing. All the ​old retired sea captains, who went about at home bored and longing to be out at sea, treated him to grog on their little verandas, and told him of their adventures and perils in the days when they knocked about the world.
Lieutenant Lagerlöf liked the people, and wanted to know how they lived their lives in their part of the country. He was no respecter of persons, but spoke to all, high and low, and he never lacked for topics of conversation. Good-humoured, kindly man that he was, it was not strange the Strömstaders liked him. And it cannot be said that he did not know his power.
Fortune favoured the Mårbacka folk in every way on this sojourn. For one thing, they found dear old friends from Värmland, in whose company they spent many pleasant hours. They were a Professor Tobiaeson of Filipstad, his wife and two sisters, and Professor Lundström, a bachelor—all of their own social circle.
Together, they made up a boating party and went sailing nearly every day. These outings were the delight of the children, for the Lieutenant, in his inimitable way, would then tell of his interesting encounters with the Strömstad folk. Besides, they always had a couple of large, well-stocked hampers in the boat, so that when they grew tired of sailing they could go ashore on one of the little rock islands and have a picnic spread. Then the children would run about and gather seashells—something they had never seen before. They ​wondered at their being allowed to take as many as they wished of these rare treasures, and they loved them as they loved the flowers and the berries of the field.
They were now out on one of their cruises. The weather was fine with just enough wind; the picnic baskets were full of goodies, and the Lieutenant was loaded with anecdotes. Everyone was looking forward to a pleasant evening.
Then, unhappily, some one remarked that they had not yet visited the island just outside Strömstad known as Gray Island. So they immediately decided to lay-to at the island on the return sail, and have their little supper there.
It seems that some hundred years back there lived on Gray Island an infamous old troll named Tita Gray, who was said to be more powerful than the Old Nick himself. When she was alive no human being was allowed to set foot on the island. Those who ventured met with instant mishap—broke an arm or a leg or slipped on the slimy rocks, and fell into the sea.
Since Tita Gray had long been dead and gone, it must be quite safe to visit the island, they thought. All the same the skipper warned them. He told how he and a couple of fellows were walking across the island one day in the spring, when suddenly one of them went down a cleft and fractured his leg.
That made the island all the more alluring to the party; they could hardly wait to set foot on it. Presently the boat turned toward the island and slipped in ​under the towering cliff wall. The skipper looked for a suitable mooring place.
Just then little Anna pulled at her mother's arm, and said: "Mamma, Selma is crying."
True, the child sat weeping. She had not been at all afraid during the sail—not till that moment. She, like the others, had thought it would be great fun to go ashore on Gray Island; but now that they were right under the rocky cliff, it looked so dark and menacing.
They all asked her why she was crying, but she would not say. She could not tell them she was afraid of a rock. However, she escaped further questioning, for the skipper had at last found a landing-place, and they had something else to think of.
The instant the boat struck. Professor Lundström seized the painter and jumped ashore. Then, as if an invisible hand had dealt him a blow in the chest, he staggered backwards and slipped off the ledge into the sea.
There was great consternation, and cries of alarm went up, but there was no long agony of suspense. With the swiftness of a gull after a fish, the skipper reached over the side of the boat, nabbed the long professor by the coat-collar and drew him up, dripping wet, of course, but quite unhurt.
Naturally, they were all very much shaken by the ghastly sight of a man going down into the perilous deep, and though, luckily, nothing serious had happened, they could not throw off their depression.
​Professor Lundström then suggested that the whole party go ashore, and let him take the boat so that he might go back to Strömstad and change his clothes. As it was only a short sail, the boat could return for them whenever they wished.
But they had had enough of Gray Island. No one felt the least desire to step ashore and climb the threatening cliff.
As they sailed back to Strömstad they must have wondered if after all there was not some truth in the old myth about the island. In any case, it was a strange coincidence that the mishap should have occurred just there. They had been to most of the other little islands of the Strömstad skerries, and all had gone well.
"I thought it almost uncanny when the child began to cry," said one of the sisters Tobiaeson. "I knew then that something would happen."
"Now what does Lieutenant Lagerlöf think about it?" queried the other sister.
"What do I think? Well," he replied, "I say it couldn't have turned out differently when we sent a school-priest like him ashore. He was no man for Tita Gray."
"Do you mean. Lieutenant, that if we had sent another—yourself perhaps—we would have had a better reception?"
"Gad, yes!" exploded the Lieutenant.
Lord, how they laughed! The pall of gloom lifted in ​a twinkling, as they pictured the meeting between Lieutenant Lagerlöf and Tita Gray.
Aye, aye, he knew right enough that he could have managed her.
Lord, how they laughed!