“Ah—­what do I know about it?  Erik will be almost grown up when you have made a gentleman of him, and he will not know how to use his arms.  Then if you do not find his family, which is more than possible, since twelve years have passed since I found him, what a beautiful future we are preparing for him!  Do you not see, doctor, that a fisherman’s life is a brave one—­better than any other:  with a good boat under his feet and four or five dozen of cod-fish at the end of his lines, a Norwegian fisherman need have no fear, nor be indebted to any one.  You say that Erik would not be happy leading such a life.  Permit me to believe the contrary.  I know the child well, he loves his books, but, above all, he loves the sea.  It also almost seems as if he felt that he had been rocked upon it, and all the museums in the world would not console him for the loss of it.”

“But we have the sea around us also at Stockholm,” said the doctor, smiling—­touched in spite of himself by this affectionate resistance.

“Well,” said the fisherman, crossing his arms, “what do you wish to do? what do you propose, doctor?”

“There, you see, after all, the necessity of doing something.  Well this is my proposition—­Erik is twelve years old, nearly thirteen, and he appears to be highly gifted.  We will say nothing about his origin—­he is worthy of being supplied with the means of developing and utilizing his faculties; that is all we need trouble ourselves about at present.  I am rich, and I have no children.  I will undertake to furnish the means, and give him the best masters, and all possible facilities for profiting by their instructions.  I will do this for two years.  During this time I will make inquiries, insert advertisements in the newspapers; make every possible exertion, move heaven and earth to discover his parents.  If I do not find them in two years, we shall never do it.  If his relatives are found, they will naturally decide his future career in life.  If we do not find them, I will send Erik back to you.  He will then be fifteen years old—­he will have seen something of the world.  The hour will have arrived to tell him the truth about his birth.  Then aided by our advice, and the opinions of his teachers, he can choose what path he would prefer to follow.  If he wishes to become a fisherman, I will not oppose it.  If he wishes to continue his studies, I engage to furnish the means for him to follow any profession that he may choose.  Does this seem a reasonable proposition to you?”

“More than reasonable.  It is wisdom itself issuing from your lips, doctor,” said Mr. Hersebom, overcome in spite of himself.  “See what it is to have an education!” he continued, shaking his head.  “The difficulty will be to repeat all you have said to my wife.  When will you take the child away?”

“To-morrow.  I can not delay my return to Stockholm any longer.”

Mr. Hersebom heaved a deep sigh, which was almost a sob.