Then Sylvius Hogg proceeded to give a full account of his adventure on the Rjukanfos.  He related the intrepid manner in which Joel and his sister had risked their own lives to save him, and how, but for their timely assistance, he would not have had the pleasure of being the guest of his friend Help that day.

His friend Help, as we said before, was an eminently practical man, but he was not opposed to useless and even impossible efforts when a question “of humanity was involved, and he finally approved what Sylvius Hogg wished to attempt.

“Sylvius,” he said, “I will assist you by every means in my power.  Yes, you are right.  However small the chance of finding some survivor of the ‘Viking’ may be, and especially of finding this brave Ole whose betrothed saved your life, it must not be neglected.”

“No, Help, no,” interrupted the professor; “not if it were but one chance in a hundred thousand.”

“So this very day, Sylvius, I will assemble all the most experienced seamen of Bergen in my office.  I will send for all who have navigated or who are now navigating the ocean between Iceland and Newfoundland, and we will see what they advise us to do.”

“And what they advise us to do we will do,” added Sylvius Hogg, without an instant’s hesitation.  “I have the approval of the government.  In fact, I am authorized to send one of its dispatch-boats in search of the ‘Viking,’ and I feel sure that no one will hesitate to take part in such a work.”

“I will pay a visit to the marine bureau, and see what I can learn there,” remarked Help, Junior.

“Would you like me to accompany you?”

“It is not necessary, and you must be fatigued.”

“Fatigued!  I—­at my age?”

“Nevertheless, you had better rest until my return, my dear and ever-young Sylvius.”

That same day there was a large meeting of captains of merchant and whaling vessels, as well as pilots, in the office of Help Bros.—­an assemblage of men who were still navigating the seas, as well as of those who had retired from active service.

Sylvius Hogg explained the situation briefly but clearly.  He told them the date—­May 3d—­on which the bottle had been cast into the sea by Ole Kamp, and the date—­June 3d—­on which it had been picked up by the Danish captain, two hundred miles south-west of Iceland.

The discussion that followed was long and serious.  There was not one of these brave men who were not familiar with the currents of that locality, and upon the direction of these currents they must, of course, chiefly depend for a solution of the problem.