“Since it is the wish of my adopted parents,” he said to himself, “the rest does not signify.  I ought to be willing to work for them in the sphere and condition where their devotion has placed me.  If I have sometimes felt ambitious to take a higher position in the world, was it not that I might be able to assist them?  Since it makes them happy to have me with them, and as they desire nothing better than their present life, I must try to be contented, and endeavor by good conduct and hard work to give them satisfaction.  Adieu, then, to my books.”

Thus he mused, and soon his thoughts returned to the time when the fisherman had found him floating in his little cradle on the waves.  What country did he belong to?  Who were his parents?  Were they still alive?  Had he in some foreign country brothers and sisters whom he would never know?

Christmas had also been in Dr. Schwaryencrona’s house in Stockholm a season of great festivity.  It was at this time, as the reader doubtless remembers, that they had agreed to decide the bet between him and Mr. Bredejord, and that Professor Hochstedt was to be the umpire.

For two years not a word had been said by either of them about this bet.  The doctor had been patiently pursuing his researches in England, writing to the maritime agencies, and multiplying his advertisements in the newspapers; but he had taken care not to confess that his efforts had been fruitless.

As for Mr. Bredejord, he had had the good taste to avoid all allusion to the subject, and contented himself with occasionally admiring the beautiful binding of the Pliny which was displayed in the doctor’s book-case.

But when he struck his snuff-box sharply with the ends of his fingers, while he looked at the book, the doctor correctly interpreted the pantomime, which was a shock to his nerves, and said to himself: 

“Oh, yes; he is thinking how well the Pliny will look beside his elegant editions of Quintilian and Horace.”

On these evenings he was more merciless than ever, if his unfortunate partner made any mistakes at whist.

But time had taken its flight, and he was now obliged to submit the question to the impartial arbitration of Professor Hochstedt.

Dr. Schwaryencrona approached the subject frankly.  Kajsa had hardly left him alone with his two friends when he confessed to them, as he had confessed in his letter to Mr. Hersebom, that his investigations had been without result.  Nothing had occurred to throw any light on the mystery which surrounded Erik’s origin, and the doctor in all sincerity declared that the problem was thought by him to be insolvable.