The Mårbacka folk, though still on their journey, no longer sat in fear and trembling in the jolting carriage. Now they were on board a fine steamer called the Uddeholm.
They had spent the day in Karlstad, shopping and visiting with relatives. Toward evening they left the city and stood waiting a good while on the long pier that shoots far out into big Lake Vänern. No shore being visible in one direction, Back-Kaisa had at once become alarmed; she thought that over there must be the edge of the world. Wonderful to behold—for her as for the others—was the pretty steamer as she emerged from that "shoreless place" and came gliding toward the pier to take them on board.
When Back-Kaisa saw how her master and mistress, Mamselle Lovisa, Johan, and Anna all went up the gangplank without the least hesitancy, she of course followed, albeit reluctantly. She probably thought Lieutenant Lagerlöf had conscience enough not to expose his little ones deliberately to the peril of death. But what would become of them once they reached the world's end? That was something beyond her ken. She would have liked to remain on deck to see whether the water went down a chasm, or wherever it went. But when dusk began to settle, the Mårbacka women and children were requested to go below-decks. They were conducted into something called a cabin, the smallest room they had ever seen, where they arranged themselves for the night.
On a narrow sofa that took up the whole side of one wall, Fru Lagerlöf lay without undressing. Opposite, on a similar sofa, was Mamselle Lovisa. Over Fru Lagerlöf, on a sort of shelf, Johan was stowed, and Anna occupied another shelf above Mamselle Lovisa's sofa. On the floor, between the two sofas, with some blankets under them, lay Back-Kaisa and Selma. Thus, every bit of space was occupied; there was not the least little corner where one might stand or sit.
The lights were extinguished, the good-nights said, and everyone settled down to sleep. For a time it was dead still in the cabin. Then, all at once, the floor began to go up and down in the strangest way! The little girl rolled like a ball, first over toward Fru Lagerlöf's sofa, then back toward the nurse. It was great fun; only she could not understand why the floor did not hold still. Presently she heard her mother and her aunt whisper to each other.
"I must have eaten too much of that rich salmon at the Sjöstedts'," said her mother.
"I thought at the time it was not very sensible food they set before us," Aunt Lovisa remarked. "And they knew we were to be out on Vänern."
"No, Vänern isn't pleasant!" sighed Fru Lagerlöf.
Then Back-Kaisa, too, began to whisper.
"Say, Frua, are we there yet?—there where the sea stops, and the water rushes down the bottomless pit?"
"My dear girl, there'll be no stop to the sea to-night!" said Fru Lagerlöf, who did not know what Back-Kaisa was talking about.
Again there was silence for a space, but not stillness. The floor rocked on and the little girl continued her delightful rolling.
Fru Lagerlöf struck a match and lit the lantern.
"I must see whether the children are able to hold themselves on their shelves," she said.
"Lord be praised for the light!" said Mamselle Lovisa. "Anyhow, there's no chance of our getting a wink of sleep to-night."
"Oh, Frua! Oh, Mamselle Lovisa! don't you feel that we're going down and down?" Back-Kaisa wailed. "Oh, how'll we ever get out of this deep? How'll we ever get back home?"
"Now, whatever does she mean?" queried Mamselle Lovisa.
"She says that we have reached the last extremity," Fru Lagerlöf interpreted—no more comprehending than the other.
The little girl had a faint suspicion that they were uneasy. As for herself, she was exceedingly comfortable, lying as it were in a big rocking-swing.
The door-handle turned, the red hanging was swept to one side, and in the doorway stood Lieutenant Lagerlöf, chuckling.
"How is it, Gustaf?" asked Fru Lagerlöf anxiously. "Will it be a gale, do you think?"
"So you're awake, all of you," said the Lieutenant. "Ay, it has blown up a bit," he conceded in a reassuring tone. "The Captain thought I'd better come down and tell you it will be no worse than it is."
"What are you up to now?" Mamselle Lovisa asked him. "Aren't you going to bed?"
"Where do you think I should sleep. Sister dear?" And there was something so screamingly funny about him as he stood in the doorway (further he could not come), looking up and down as if in search of a sleeping place—it set them all laughing. Fru Lagerlöf and Mamselle Lovisa, who had been lying there fearful and a little seasick, now sat up in their bunks to have their laugh out. Johan and Anna laughed so hard they nearly shook themselves off their "shelves." Back-Kaisa forgot for the moment that she would soon be at that dreadful place where the lake ends, and laughed, too, and the little girl by her side was fairly choking with laughter.
Lieutenant Lagerlöf, who seldom laughed aloud, looked highly pleased.
"All's right with you, I see," he said. "So now I'll go up again and chin with the captain." Whereupon he bade them a cheery good-night, and went his way.
In the cabin the feeling of uneasiness and the qualms of seasickness returned. Fru Lagerlöf again made futile attempts to quiet Back-Kaisa, who went on moaning and wailing that they were getting nearer and nearer that bottomless pit. The little girl by her side must have fallen asleep, for she remembered no more of that night's experiences.