The crew of the “Vega,” in arctic clothing, with two or three officers, had already seen the visitors whom the astronomer was bringing with him.  Their joy was great when they saluted them in Swedish, and when they beheld among them the well-known and popular physiognomy of Dr. Schwaryencrona.

Neither Nordenskiold nor Captain Palender were on board.  They had gone upon a geological excursion into the interior of the country, and expected to be absent five or six days.  This was a disappointment to the travelers, who had naturally hoped when they found the “Vega” to present their congratulations to the great explorer.

But this was not their only disappointment.[1]

[Footnote 1:  They returned sooner, for on the 18th of July the ice broke up, and after 264 days of captivity the “Vega” resumed her voyage.  On the 20th of July she issued from Behring’s Straits and set out for Yokohama.]

They had hardly entered the officer’s room, when Erik and his friends were informed that three days before the “Vega” had been visited by an American yacht, or rather by its owner, Mr. Tudor Brown.  This gentleman had brought them news of the world beyond their settlement, which was very acceptable, they being confined to the limited neighborhood of the Bay of Koljutschin.  He told them what had happened in Europe since their departure—­the anxiety that Sweden and indeed all civilized nations felt about their fate, and that the “Alaska” had been sent to search for them.  Mr. Tudor Brown came from Vancouver’s Island, in the Pacific, and his yacht had been waiting there for him for three months.

“But,” exclaimed a young doctor, attached to the expedition, “he told us that he had at first embarked with you, and only left you at Brest, because he doubted whether you would be able to bring the enterprise to a successful termination!”

“He had excellent reasons for doubting it,” replied Erik, coolly, but not without a secret tremor.

“His yacht was at Valparaiso and he telegraphed for her to wait for him at Victoria, on the coast of Vancouver,” continued the doctor; “then he took the steamer from Liverpool to New York, and the railroad to the Pacific.  This explains how he was able to reach here before you.”

“Did he tell you why he came?” asked Mr. Bredejord.

“He came to help us, if we stood in need of assistance, and also to inquire about a strange enough personage, whom I had incidentally mentioned in my correspondence, and in whom Mr. Tudor Brown seemed to take a great interest.”

The four visitors exchanged glances.

“Patrick O’Donoghan—­was not that the name?” asked Erik.

“Precisely—­or at least it is the name which is tattooed on his body, although he pretends it is not his own, but that of a friend.  He calls himself Johnny Bowles.”

“May I ask if this man is still here?”