the old fisherman said it was foolish to go away， for now that Jorgen had a home Elsewould very likely be inclined to take him instead of Martin.
Jorgen gave such a vague answer that it was not easy to make out what he meant—the oldman brought Else to him， and she said：
“You have a home now; you ought to think of that.”
And Jorgen thought of many things.
the sea has heavy waves， but there are heavier waves in the human heart. Manythoughts， strong and weak， rushed through Jorgen's brain， and he said to Else：
“If Martin had a house like mine， which of us would you rather have?”
“But Martin has no house and cannot get one.”
“Suppose he had one?”
“Well， then I would certainly take Martin， for that is what my heart tells me; but onecannot live upon love.”
Jorgen turned these things over in his mind all night. Something was working within him，he hardly knew what it was， but it was even stronger than his love for Else; and so he wentto Martin's， and what he said and did there was well considered. He let the house to Martin onmost liberal terms， saying that he wished to go to sea again， because he loved it. And Elsekissed him when she heard of it， for she loved Martin best.
Jorgen proposed to start early in the morning， and on the evening before his departure，when it was already getting rather late， he felt a wish to visit Martin once more. He started，and among the dunes met the old fisherman， who was angry at his leaving the place. The oldman made jokes about Martin， and declared there must be some magic about that fellow， ofwhom the girls were so fond.
Jorgen did not pay any attention to his remarks， but said good-bye to the old man andwent on towards the house where Martin dwelt. He heard loud talking inside; Martin was notalone， and this made Jorgen waver in his determination， for he did not wish to see Elseagain. On second thoughts， he decided that it was better not to hear any more thanks fromMartin， and so he turned back.
On the following morning， before the sun rose， he fastened his knapsack on his back，took his wooden provision box in his hand， and went away among the sand-hills towards thecoast path. This way was more pleasant than the heavy sand road， and besides it wasshorter; and he intended to go first to Fjaltring， near Bovbjerg， where the eel-breederlived， to whom he had promised a visit.
the sea lay before him， clear and blue， and the mussel shells and pebbles， the playthingsof his childhood， crunched over his feet. While he thus walked on his nose suddenly began tobleed; it was a trifling occurrence， but trifles sometimes are of GREat importance. A fewlarge drops of blood fell upon one of his sleeves. He wiped them off and stopped thebleeding， and it seemed to him as if this had cleared and lightened his brain. The sea-calebloomed here and there in the sand as he passed. He broke off a spray and stuck it in his hat;he determined to be merry and light-hearted， for he was going out into the wide world—“alittle way out， beyond the bay，” as the young eels had said. “Beware of bad people who willcatch you， and skin you， and put you in the frying-pan!” he repeated in his mind， andsmiled， for he thought he should find his way through the world—good courage is a strongweapon!
the sun was high in the heavens when he approached the narrow entrance to Nissum Bay.He looked back and saw a couple of horsemen galloping a long distance behind him， and therewere other people with them. But this did not concern him.
the ferry-boat was on the opposite side of the bay. Jorgen called to the ferry-man， andthe latter came over with his boat. Jorgen stepped in; but before he had got half-way across，the men whom he had seen riding so hastily， came up， hailed the ferry-man， andcommanded him to return in the name of the law. Jorgen did not understand the reason ofthis， but he thought it would be best to turn back， and therefore he himself took an oar andreturned. As soon as the boat touched the shore， the men sprang on board， and before hewas aware of it， they had bound his hands with a rope.
“This wicked deed will cost you your life，” they said. “It is a good thing we have caughtyou.”
He was accused of nothing less than murder. Martin had been found dead， with his throatcut. One of the fishermen， late on the previous evening， had met Jorgen going towardsMartin's house; this was not the first time Jorgen had raised his knife against Martin， so theyfelt sure that he was the murderer. The prison was in a town at a GREat distance， and thewind was contrary for going there by sea; but it would not take half an hour to get across thebay， and another quarter of an hour would bring them to Norre-Vosborg， the great castlewith ramparts and moat. One of Jorgen's captors was a fisherman， a brother of the keeper ofthe castle， and he said it might be managed that Jorgen should be placed for the present inthe dungeon at Vosborg， where Long Martha the gipsy had been shut up till her execution.They paid no attention to Jorgen's defence; the few drops of blood on his shirt-sleeve boreheavy witness against him. But he was conscious of his innocence， and as there was nochance of clearing himself at present he submitted to his fate.