“Alas!  Mister Sylvius,” replied Hulda, “my poor Ole has gone down with the ‘Viking,’ and I shall never see him again!”

“Sister, sister!” exclaimed Joel, “becalm, I beseech you, and hear what Mister Sylvius has to say.”

“Yes, be calm, my children, and let us talk the matter over quietly.  It was between the fifteenth and twentieth of May that Ole expected to return to Bergen, was it not?”

“Yes; and it is now the ninth of June.”

“So the vessel is only twenty days overdue, if we reckon from the latest date appointed for the return of the ‘Viking.’  That is enough to excite anxiety, I admit; still, we must not expect the same punctuality from a sailing-vessel as from a steamer.”

“I have told Hulda that again and again, and I tell her so yet,” interrupted Joel.

“And you are quite right, my boy.  Besides, it is very possible that the ‘Viking’ is an old vessel, and a slow sailer, like most Newfoundland ships, especially when heavily laden.  On the other hand, we have had a great deal of bad weather during the past few weeks, and very possibly the vessel did not sail at the date indicated in Ole’s letter.  In that case a week’s delay in sailing would be sufficient to account for the non-arrival of the ‘Viking’ and for your failure to receive a letter from your lover.  What I say is the result of serious reflection.  Besides, how do you know but the instructions given to the captain of the ‘Viking’ authorize him to take his cargo to some other port, according to the state of the market?”

“In that case, Ole would have written,” replied Hulda, who could not even be cheered by this hope.

“What is there to prove that he did not write?” retorted the professor.  “If he did, it is not the ‘Viking’ that is behind time, but the American mail.  Suppose, for instance, that Ole’s ship touched at some port in the United States, that would explain why none of his letters have yet reached Europe.”

“The United States, Mister Sylvius!”

“That sometimes happens, and it is only necessary to miss one mail to leave one’s friends without news for a long time.  There is, at all events, one very easy thing for us to do; that is to make inquiries of some of the Bergen shipowners.  Are you acquainted with any of them?”

“Yes,” replied Joel, “Messrs. Help Bros.”

“Help Bros., the sons of old Help?”

“Yes.”

“Why, I know them, too; at least, the younger brother, Help, Junior, they call him, though he is not far from my own age, and one of my particular friends.  He has often dined with me in Christiania.  Ah, well, my children, I can soon learn through him all that can be ascertained about the ‘Viking.’  I’ll write him this very day, and if need be I’ll go and see him.”

“How kind you are, Mister Sylvius!” cried Hulda and Joel in the same breath.

“No thanks, if you please; I won’t allow them.  Did I ever thank you for what you did for me up there?  And now I find an opportunity to do you a good turn, and here you are all in a flutter.”