“Very true, the poor little one,” answered the good dame, drying her eyes, which this recital had filled with tears.  “And he is our child now, for we have adopted him.  I do not know why Mr. Malarius should say anything to the contrary.”

“It is true,” said Hersebom, and I do not see that it concerns any one but ourselves.”

“That is so,” said the doctor, in a conciliatory tone, “but you must not accuse Mr. Malarius of being indiscreet.  I was struck with the physiognomy of the child, and I begged my friend confidentially to relate his history.  He told me that Erik believed himself to be your son, and that every one in Noroe had forgotten how he had become yours.  Therefore, you see, I took care not to speak until the children had been sent to bed.  You say that he was about seven or eight months old when you found him?”

“About that; he had already four teeth, the little brigand, and I assure you that it was not long before he began to use them,” said Hersebom, laughing.

“Oh, he was a superb child,” said Katrinn, eagerly.  “He was so white, and strong, and plump; and such arms and legs.  You should have seen them!”

“How was he dressed?” asked Dr. Schwaryencrona.

Hersebom did not answer, but his wife was less discreet.

“Like a little prince,” she answered.  “Imagine a robe of pique, trimmed all over with lace, a pelisse of quilted satin, a cloak of white velvet, and a little cap; the son of a king could not have more.  Everything he had was beautiful.  But you can see for yourself, for I have kept them all just as they were.  You may be sure that we did not dress the baby in them.  Oh, no; I put Otto’s little garments on him, which I had laid away, and which also served, later on, for Vanda.  But his outfit is here, and I will show it to you.”

While she was speaking, the worthy woman knelt down before a large oaken chest, with an antique lock, and after lifting the lid, began searching the compartments.

She drew out, one by one, all the garments of which she had spoken, and displayed them with pride before the eyes of the doctor.  She also showed the linen, which was exquisitely fine, a little quilt of silk, and a pair of white merino boots.  All the articles were marked with the initials “E.D.,” elegantly embroidered, as the doctor saw at a glance.

“‘E.D.;’ is that why you named the child Erik?” he asked.

“Precisely,” answered Katrina, who it was evident enjoyed this exhibition, while her husband’s face grew more gloomy.  “See,” she said, “this is the most beautiful of all.  He wore it around his neck.”

And she drew from its box a rattle of coral and gold, suspended from a little chain.

The initials “E.D.” were here surrounded by a Latin motto, “Semper idem.”

“We thought at first it was the baby’s name, but Mr. Malarius told us it meant ‘always the same,’” she continued, seeing that the doctor was trying to decipher the motto.