5
A very quiet family gathered around the supper table that evening. Even the thought of his little ships didn’t bring Arne any cheer. Indeed, he could hardly bear even to think of ships. Mother tried to talk as usual, and so did Father, but no one’s heart was in it.
Arne could not settle down to anything. He wanted to ask questions, but knew there could be no comforting answers. At last, without being told, he wandered off to bed.
It was hard for him to keep his mind on schoolwork the next morning. He rushed home at the midday recess, bolted his meal, got his field glasses, and went up to the cliff as fast as he could get there. Gustav’s ship should be coming in soon, if it hadn’t run into trouble. You never knew for sure when a freighter would be in. Father said it was always best to allow a little extra time even in good weather. But Arne had been hoping it might come in alittle ahead of time. Perhaps he’d even catch sight of it today. Then there would certainly be rejoicing!
There was no sign of the ship as he looked out over the stormy waters, but he lingered so long on the cliff that he barely got into the schoolroom in time. Herr Engstrand looked at him severely, and though he said nothing, Arne realized he had better not cut it so close again.
He couldn’t keep away from the cliff at noon. But each day he stood there, looking, only a short time and was careful to get to school before the bell rang.
At home, Mother was trying her best to keep everything normal, but she looked more and more anxious as the news of storms continued. Even Father, accustomed as he was to ships and storms at sea, looked anxious as he listened to the reports over the radio.
Christmas preparations went on, but there wasn’t much laughing or singing over them now.
“Why don’t we hear something?” Arne asked his father in desperation. “Couldn’t they let someone know if they’re in trouble? Couldn’t help go to them?”
“We hear the names of some of the ships in trouble. But no word comes of theStjerne,” his father said, and paused. “I hope it is just that their radio has gone bad. Yes, that must be it.” He spoke as if he wanted to reassure himself as much as Arne.
That day the bell had rung before Arne slid into his seat at school. He got a sharp reprimand from the teacher, but for once he didn’t care. He could only think of Gustav, out there on the stormy sea.
But Bergeldidcare. She knew Christmas plans were afoot in school, and she could not bear to have him get into trouble now. The next noon Bergel was watching for her cousin, and when she saw him start toward the cliff, she seized her sled and ran after him.
“Arne! Arne!” she called over and over as she neared the cliff, but the wind was strong, and he did not hear her. She hurried on, faster than ever, looking anxious but determined. If they didn’t look out, they’d both be late for school.
Yes, there he was, high up on the very peak of the cliff, looking out to sea through his field glasses. She called and shouted, waving her arm in a frantic signal. This time he heard, put his glasses away, and started down.
“Look here, Bergel, you didn’t need to come—” he began, slightly annoyed.
“I know,” interrupted Bergel. “But today I think Herr Professor is going to announce the trip up the mountain for Christmas greens. You don’t want to be late and maybe have to stay home from that. I think my sled will get us there on time.”
“So!” said Arne. Bergel was a pretty good kid. “Hop on, then. We’ll beat that school bell. We’ll take the short cut, shall we? That’ll get us there all right.”
“Well,” said Bergel, hesitating a little. “It’s dangerous, but—”
“Not with your cousin Arne as navigator! Come on!”
Arne was daring, Bergel knew that, but he was skillful, too. And she certainly didn’t want to be late today.Herr Professor might punish latecomers by refusing to let them go on that expedition up the mountain for the Christmas greens. She got on the sled and shut her eyes tight as they went flying down the steep hill toward the schoolgrounds. She was a little frightened, it is true, but almost too excited to realize it. If they avoided that big rock now, they’d be all right.
Arne’s face was grim as they whizzed downward. This was a dangerous hill. He had to give all his attention to steering and braking. Bergel had risked her own good record and the chance of going up the mountain in order to warn him. He just had to get her back safely and on time.
It was a triumphant moment when the breathless ride was accomplished safely, and the cousins jumped off the sled. Then they made a dash across the schoolground.
Arne’s thoughts were racing as fast as his feet. Where was that ship, anyway? It was really overdue now, several days. Maybe something had happened to Captain Olsen. Maybe Gustav had to bring in the ship. What if he had had to take command and had failed to bring it safely to port? Arne couldn’t bear to think of such a thing.
He looked so anxious that Bergel, glancing at him as they pulled off their coats, said softly, “Don’t forget—it’s the ChristmasStarwe’re waiting for. And remember, that’s always come in safe and sure.”
Arne nodded and hurried across the schoolroom and slid into his seat just as the bell rang. His spirits, never down for very long, rose a little. He and Bergel had made port safely, anyhow, and in time, too.
But Herr Professor Engstrand looked at him gravely for a moment and said, “Tardiness is a fault I do not wishmy pupils to develop. Arne Dalen, you have come in once this week just after the bell rang, and you have repeatedly got in barely on time. I shall have to take strong measures if you are tardy again.”
Arne’s face flushed, and he looked down in embarrassment. If he could only explain! But you couldn’t explain things to Herr Professor.
He was heartily glad when the teacher went on in an entirely different tone, “I have a pleasant announcement to make. On Friday afternoon, all you older pupils are to go up the mountain for greens to decorate the schoolhouse for the Christmas program. All bring flashlights and sandwiches. We shall make a campfire and have a picnic. Froken Utvig promises we shall practice some of our Christmas songs there.”
There was a stir of delight throughout the room. The trip up the mountain for Christmas greens was a favorite yearly event. Getting the greens and decorating was even more fun than the Christmas program itself. This was the first time Arne and Bergel’s class had been included in the expedition. Arne’s eyes glowed as he thought of the picnic supper, the campfire up there on the dark mountain, the singing that would float all up and down the mountainside.
But some of the girls looked a little perturbed, and the teacher almost smiled as he said, “We shall not stand out there in the snow eating our supper. Froken Utvig says we can find shelter in her father’s saeter cabin.”
The Utvig saeter! Oh, that would be something, Arne thought. Everyone said the Utvig cabin was the finest on the mountain. Arne had never been there, and he almost forgot about theStjernein his excitement. It was wonderful fun to go up to a saeter in summer, but in winter it would be a real adventure. He resolved to be on time for the rest of the week. He certainly could not run the chance of being left out of that trip up the mountain.
Arne could hardly keep his feet from taking the familiar cliff path the next noon. If only there were just a little daylight after school. Then he’d hurry as fast as he could up the cliff, get out those field glasses, and stand looking as long as he liked. But it would be dark by that time. And tomorrow was the day of the trip up the mountain. No, he couldn’t run the risk of being late.
With a mighty effort he managed to trudge straight to school. He even got there a little early. He was too anxious and miserable to stay out playing, so he earned the pleased surprise of Herr Professor by going straight into the schoolroom, opening his book, and settling down.But his thoughts were not on his Norwegian history, though that was a subject he really liked, full as it was of stirring events. His thoughts were with the freighterStjerne, in peril out there on the stormy sea.
Arne hurried home right after school, hoping better news had come in. His mother was in a perfect fury of baking. She was makinglefse, and he usually liked to watch her doing that. But today he didn’t care much, for one look at her face told him that the news was not good.
She whisked the kettle of potatoes off the fire, mashed them violently, mixed in flour and salt and cream. Then she rolled out the dough into large, thin, round cakes, and Besta baked them on the top of the cookstove.
Both of them nodded a greeting to him, but no one seemed to feel like talking. Presently Besta buttered a piece of warmlefse, spread it with brown sugar, rolled it, and handed it to Arne. Even now he did not forget the polite Norwegian “Mange tak,” “Many thanks.”
He took hislefseand wandered off to the workshop, but there was a lump in his throat as he drew the covering back and looked at his little ships. It didn’t seem to him he could work at them today, and he started to cover them again. Then he stopped and said fiercely right out loud, “Look here, Arne Dalen! Gustav wouldn’t do that. He’sa great one to stick at something until he gets it done.”
Somehow that idea comforted Arne. Wherever Gustav was, even if he was in serious difficulties, he’d be doing something to try to put things right. He remembered how quick and sure his brother had been last summer on theLakswhen the rocks had fallen. And Gustav had weathered bad storms before this. Captain Olsen, too. They were two good men, Father said. And they had a good crew of Norwegian sailors. Arne picked up one of the little ships and began a careful job of sandpapering. Even after supper he came out and found comfort in working. When Gustav came home, the surprise would be ready.
He lingered in the kitchen next morning for a few minutes after the others had gone about their various duties. He wanted to talk to Mother about preparations for that trip up the mountain. But more than that, he wanted very much to say something encouraging to her.
It was hard to know just what to say. The Dalens came from a long line of seafaring people, and no one talked much about it when there were storms and ships were overdue. But Arne couldn’t bear that bleak look on his mother’s face. It was not at all like her. She was a cheerful, busy person, almost as full of lively plans and ideas as Arne himself.
It didn’t take long to settle about the lunch. Mother promised to make him some extra nicesmörbröd, or sandwiches. At a picnic like that, all the sandwiches would be spread out and shared, and hers must do both Arne and herself credit. She promised to decorate them in all kinds of fancy patterns. She would put in some of thebakkelse, too, and other cakes.
Arne was well pleased with this, but he didn’t quite know how to go on to the next subject. Then Bergel’s words of comfort came back to him. They had made him feel better. Maybe Mother would like them too. He cleared his throat and said gruffly, “Gustav’s ship is the ChristmasStar, you know, Mother. It’ll come in safe, I’m just sure it will.”
Tears sprang into his mother’s eyes and brimmed over, and Arne wished earnestly that he had not spoken at all. He didn’t know whether to keep still now or to try again, so he just put his arm around her and gave her a quick, fervent hug.
She swallowed hard, shook herself, and wiped her eyes fiercely. “There now, Arne,” she said, hustling the dishes off the table. “Of course it will come in.” And somehow she managed to smile. “Run to school now, boy. Don’t be late.”
When Arne came home at noon, a lunch was ready packed for him to take up the mountain. He got out his flashlight and skis and put all the things together. His mother tried to talk cheerfully of all these preparations as they ate their lunch, but her sentences trailed off in a way not at all like her.
The boy’s heart was heavy as he left the house. He started for school, then stopped and swung swiftly around. He’d go like lightning up the cliff, and maybe he’d see Gustav’s ship. Then he’d ski down the slope and tell his mother. He’d have time. He was starting back to school earlier than usual.
He hesitated just an instant. This was no day to be late. Then he set off at full speed toward the cliff.
He caught his breath in exultation as his glasses swept the angry, heaving waves. It was beginning to snow, but in spite of that he could see there was a ship far out—a ship that could be theStjerne! But it was much too far away for him to make sure. And yet he couldn’t bear to leave in uncertainty. The minutes flew by as he stood there, too intent on watching to think of anything else.
Suddenly a bell far down below brought him up with a jerk. That was the school bell. First bell, only. If he skied like mad, he might make it.
But though he felt as if he were actually flying down the slope, the last bell sounded loud and clear through the wintry air before he even reached the schoolground.
With all his heart Arne wished he didn’t have to go into that schoolroom. But he knew he did. He paused for an instant at the door. Then he braced himself and entered, his head erect but his cheeks crimson as he walked quickly and quietly to his desk.
There was an air of excitement in the room, and Herr Engstrand had evidently been talking, for no books were open. Now he paused and waited till Arne took his seat.
“I am very sorry you chose to be late this noon, Arne,” he said, and though his tone was stern, it did sound a little regretful, too. “I dislike very much to keep you in today of all days, but you have been warned and spoken to more than once. Get out your English grammar and do the exercises on pages 63 and 64. Have them on my desk before you leave the schoolroom. And now the rest of you may get your wraps and skis. As I was beginning to explain, it has been decided on account of the threatening snow that we start at once and get back before too late. The afternoon session is excused.”
Arne sent a stunned glance at Bergel. They were actually going to have a half-holiday and go up the mountain.And they were leaving him out of it. Her face, sorrowful and reproachful, didn’t make him feel any better. In the flurry of leaving, she seemed very busy with one or two papers. Then she gave him a long look and rose to go with the others.