“Thank you, marm; I am much obliged to you,” said he. “Will you have the kindness to inform me what this is for?”
The woman laughed, and answered him in her native tongue.
“Precisely so,” added Scott.
“What does she say?” asked Sanford.
“She wants me to write a love letter in this bookto her; but as she is rather ancient, I shall decline in your favor, Sanford.”
“Don’t do it, old fellow! Face the music.”
“Not for Joseph!”
“What did she say, Ole?” inquired Sanford.
“She said you were to keep your account in that book,” replied the interpreter.
“Are we to keep our own reckoning?”
“Yes; every one puts down in this book what he has had.”
“That means you, Burchmore. You are the cashier for the party.”
“How many fellows had coffee this morning?” asked the cashier, as he took the book.
“All of them, of course.”
Burchmore made the entries for the coffee and the breakfasts of the whole party.
“Well, that’s one way to do the thing,” said Scott. “Every man his own book-keeper. I’ll bet everybody doesn’t charge what he has had.”
Ole was requested to ask the woman about the matter. She said the Swedes were honest, but the waiters were required to see that everybody paid for what he had had before leaving the steamer. The having of this book is certainly a better plan than that of the Norwegian steamers, by which the passenger, if he means to be honest, is compelled to recollect all he has had in a passage of thirty hours.
The Wadstena continued on her course through a rather flat country, just coming into the greenness and beauty of the spring time, till she came to Wenersberg, a town of five thousand inhabitants, which is largelyengaged in the lumber and iron trade. The boat stopped there a short time, and the party had an opportunity to examine the lake craft at the wharves; but, after seeing them, it was difficult to believe they were not in some New England coast town. The steamers, however, were very different, all of them being very short, to enable them to pass through the locks in the canal, and most of them having the hurricane deck forward and aft, to afford sufficient space for the cabins. All of them were propellers.
The Wadstena started again, the bridges opening to permit her passage. The great Wenern Lake lay before them, which is the third in size in Europe, Onega and Ladoga alone exceeding it in extent. It is about a hundred miles long by fifty in breadth, very irregular in shape, and portions of it are densely crowded with islands. Its greatest depth is three hundred and sixty feet near the Island of Lurö, but a considerable part of it is very shallow, and difficult of navigation. It is one hundred and forty-five feet above the level of the Baltic. Thirty rivers flow into it, and sometimes cause it to rise ten feet above its ordinary level. But the Göta River is its only outlet, and is always supplied with an abundant volume of water. The wind was fresh when the Wadstena steamed out upon the broad expanse, and the lake had a decidedly stormy aspect.
“Will you be seasick?” asked the captain, as the little steamer began to bob up and down with a very uncomfortable jerk.
“Seasick!” laughed Scott. “We are all sailors, sir, and we don’t intend to cave in on a fresh-water pond.”
“But the lake is very rough to-day.”
“If your little tub can stand it, captain, we can.”
“I am very glad, for some people are very sick on this part of the passage. It is sometimes very bad, the worst we have in the whole trip.”
“How long are we on the lake?” asked Scott.
“About seven hours; but not all of it is so bad as this. We go among the islands by and by.”
Doubtless the Wenern Lake fully maintained its reputation on the present occasion, though none of the young salts were sick. The boat stood to the northward, and the short steamer and the short chop sea would have made the passage very trying to landsmen. Nothing but the distant shores were to be seen, and the monotony of the passage was the only disagreeable circumstance to our tourists. For the want of something better to do, they went below, and, lying down on the sofas in their state-rooms, went to sleep without much difficulty, for the red-backs and fleas kept shady in the daytime. The boys were accustomed to being “rocked in the cradle of the deep;” but at the expiration of three hours, the heavy motion ceased, and the change waked them. Going on the hurricane deck again, they found the steamer was among the islands, which were generally low, rocky, and covered with firs and pines. A crooked channel was carefully buoyed off, and the boat was threading its tortuous way with no little difficulty.
Presently the Wadstena made a landing at a rude pier on an island where only a rough shanty was in sight. Several row-boats at the wharf indicated that passengers came to this station from other islands.Again the steamer went out upon the open lake, and soon after entered another group of islands, among which she made a landing at a small town. Passing over another open space, the entrance to the canal was discovered, marked by two low light-houses, in the form of the frustum of a pyramid. As the Wadstena entered a lock, the captain told the party they might take a walk if they pleased, as there were several locks to pass in the next three miles. This was a grateful relief to the voyagers, and they gladly availed themselves of the opportunity. The country was a dead level, with an occasional small farm-house, and with many groves and forests. But the walk was interesting, and the boys would gladly have continued it longer; but at the last lock of the series, the gate-man told them, through Ole, that they must wait here in order to go on board, for the steamer could not make a landing again for several miles. The party remained on the hurricane deck till the cold and the darkness drove them below. Turning in at an early hour, they slept as well as the vermin would allow, until six o’clock the next morning, when the steamer was approaching the Wettern Lake, the second in size in Sweden. The boat was on a broad arm of the lake, called the Viken, for the canal is built only across the narrowest section of country, between two natural bodies of water.
The Wettern Lake is ninety miles long and fifteen miles wide, surrounded by hills, from which sudden gusts of wind come, producing violent squalls on the water. This lake is noted for big trout. After crossing the Wettern, the steamer approached Wadstena,which contains an ancient church and convent, and a castle built by Gustavus Vasa, and often occupied by his family. Ten miles farther brought the steamer to Motala, which contains several iron founderies and manufactories. Many iron steamers and steam engines are built at this place. The scenery on this portion of the canal is very beautiful, though not grand. Going through another portion of the artificial canal, the boat enters the Roxen Lake, perhaps the most beautiful in Sweden, and makes a landing at Linköping. There are half a dozen towns with this termination in the country, as Norrköping, Söderköping, Jönköping, the last two syllables being pronounced likechepping; as, Lin-chep-ping.
Leaving the Roxen Lake, the steamer passes through more canals into an arm of the Baltic, and then into the sea itself, voyaging among a thousand small islands, stopping at Söderköping and Nyköping, important commercial and manufacturing towns. Night came, and our tourists did not stay up to see the lights on the way. The steamer leaves the Baltic, and passing another piece of canal, enters the waters of the Mäler Lake, seventy-five miles long, and containing fourteen hundred islands. The boys were up in season to see the beauties of this lake. Many of the islands rise to a considerable height above the water, and are so thick that one hardly believes he is sailing on a large lake. For quiet beauty and “eternal stillness,” the Mäler can hardly be surpassed. In the middle of the forenoon, the spires of Stockholm were to be seen, and the tourists were all attention. From the lake the city presents a fine appearance. Indeed, Stockholm,seen from either of its water approaches, is hardly excelled in beauty by any city in Europe.
The Wadstena made her landing at the Island of Riddarholm. As the party were not burdened with any baggage, they decided to walk to the hotel. Ole inquired the way to the Hotel Rydberg, where they had agreed to go; and crossing a bridge to the largest of the three islands of the city, called Stadeholm, they arrived at the palace, beyond which is the quay. Between this island and the main land, on which the greater portion of the town is built, is the passage from the Baltic to the Mäler Lake, and in the middle of it is the Island of Helgeandsholm, or Holy Ghost’s Island, with two bridges connecting it with either side. On it are the king’s stables, and a semicircular garden, improved as acafé, with a handsome face wall on the water side.
“This isn’t bad,” said Scott, as the party paused to look down into the garden.
“Not at all,” replied Sanford. “I suppose they have music here in the evening, and it would be a capital place to loaf.”
“See the steamers!” exclaimed Laybold, as a couple of the miniature craft, which abound in the waters of Stockholm, whisked up to the quay.
“A fellow could put half a dozen of them into his trousers pocket,” laughed Scott. “We must go on a cruise in some of them, as soon as we get settled.”
“Well, where’s the hotel?” asked Sanford.
It was in plain sight from the bridge, which they crossed to the Square of Gustavus Adolphus, on which the hotel faced.
“Good morning, young gentlemen. I am happy to see you,” said Mr. Blaine, the head steward of the ship, who was the first person to greet them as they entered the hotel.
“Ah, Mr. Blaine!” exclaimed Sanford, his face glowing with apparent satisfaction. “I am delighted to see you; for I was afraid we should never find the ship.”
“Were you, indeed? Well, I had the same fear myself. I have been looking for you ever since the ship sailed.”
“We have done our best to find the ship, Mr. Blaine,” added Sanford.
“O, of course you have; but of course, as you didn’t find her, you were not so babyish as to sit down and cry about it.”
“Certainly not; still we were very anxious to find her.”
“Mr. Peaks says you came down from Christiania before he did.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you were so anxious to find the ship, that you took a train to the interior of the country, expecting, no doubt, to come across her on some hill, or possibly on some of these inland lakes,” continued Mr. Blaine.
“We were looking for the ship’s company. We met Scott and Laybold, who were going into the interior, and we concluded to join them, as they wanted to find their shipmates,” replied Sanford, who was now not entirely confident that “the independent excursion without running away” was a success.
“Ah! so you have picked up those two young gentlemen, who ran away,” added the head steward, glancing at Scott and Laybold.
“Not exactly, sir; they picked us up,” answered the coxswain.
“I think it was a mutual picking up, and we picked each other up,” laughed Scott. “We knew that Sanford and his crew were extremely anxious to find the ship’s company, and if we joined them we should be sure to come out right.”
“Exactly so,” laughed Mr. Blaine. “Let me see; after our first day’s run on shore, by some mistake you neglected to come on board at night, with the others.”
“That was the case exactly. The fact is, we were too drunk to go on board with the others.”
“Drunk!” exclaimed Mr. Blaine.
“Such was our melancholy condition, sir,” added Scott, shaking his head. “We were invited, in a restaurant, to drink ‘finkel,’ and not knowing what finkel was, we did drink; and it boozed us exceedingly.”
“You are very honest about it, Scott.”
“We are about everything, sir. We slept at a hotel, and when we went down to the wharf to go on board, we learned that the ship’s company had gone to Trolldoldiddledy Falls. As we felt pretty well, we thought we would take a train, see a little of the inside of Sweden, and meet the ship’s company at Squozzlebogchepping.”
“Where’s that?” asked Mr. Blaine.
“I can’t give you the latitude and longitude of the jaw-breaker, but it was at the junction of the two railways, where the party came down from the canal.We were sure we should find our fellows there, but the Swedish figures bothered us, and we made a mistake in the hour the train was due.”
“But the Swedish figures are the same as ours,” suggested the head steward.
“Are they? Well, I don’t know what the matter was, except that we were five minutes too late for the train. That’s what’s the matter.”
“How very unfortunate it was you lost that train!”
“It was, indeed; I couldn’t have felt any worse if I had lost my great-grandmother, who died fifty years before I was born. These honest fellows felt bad, too.”
“Of course they did.”
“We took the next train to Gottenburg; but when we arrived, the ship had sailed for Copenhagen, which I was more anxious to see than any other place in Northern Europe.”
“And for that reason you came on to Stockholm.”
“No, sir; you are too fast, Mr. Blaine. Your consequent does not agree with the antecedent. There was no steamer for Copenhagen for a couple of days.”
“There was a steamer within an hour after you reached Gottenburg in that train, and an hour before the sailing of the canal steamer; and Mr. Peaks went down in her,” said Mr. Blaine.
“We didn’t know it.”
“Certainly you did not.”
“We knew of no steamer till Monday, and we were afraid, if we went in her, that we should be too late to join the ship in Copenhagen; and with heroic self-denial, we abandoned our fondly-cherished hope ofseeing the capital of Denmark, and hastened on to Stockholm, so as to be sure and not miss the ship again. These honest fellows,” said Scott, pointing to Sanford and his companions, “agreed with us that this was the only safe course to take.”
“I see that you struggled very violently to join your ship, and I only wonder that such superhuman efforts should have failed.”
“They have not failed, sir,” protested Scott. “The ship will come here, and we will join her then, or perish in the attempt.”
“Are you not afraid some untoward event will defeat your honest intentions?”
“If they are defeated it will not be our fault.”
“No, I suppose not; but whom have you there?” inquired the head steward, for the first time observing Ole, who had pressed forward to hear Scott’s remarks. “Ole?”
“Yes, sir; that’s the valiant Ole, of Norway,” replied the joker.
His presence was satisfactorily explained by the coxswain.
“Why did you desire to leave the ship, Ole? Didn’t we use you well?” asked Mr. Blaine.
“Very well indeed, sir; but I was bashful, and did not wish to see some people in Christiansand,” replied the waif.
“What people?”
Ole evaded all inquiries, as he had a dozen times before, and declined to explain anything relating to his past history. Mr. Blaine said he had heard the party had taken the canal steamer, and he immediatelyproceeded to Stockholm by railroad. He at once telegraphed to Mr. Lowington at Copenhagen, that he had found all the absentees, and asked for instructions.
“Here’s a go, and the game is up,” said Sanford, in a whisper, when he met Stockwell alone.
“That’s so; what will he do with us?”
“I don’t know; I rather like this mode of travelling. But we are caught now.”
“Perhaps not; we may find some way out of it. According to Blaine’s cue we are to be regarded as runaways. If that is the case, I don’t join the ship this summer,” said Stockwell, very decidedly.
“Nor I either,” added Sanford.
Before dark, Mr. Blaine received a despatch from the principal, directing him to take the next train to Malmö, which is the town in Sweden opposite Copenhagen. The head steward did not communicate its contents to his charge that night, but he called all of them at four o’clock the next morning, and by good management on his part, they were on the train which left Stockholm at six o’clock. At Katherineholm, where the party ate an excellent breakfast, Mr. Blaine unhappily missed three of his company.
UP THE BALTIC.
The excursionists of the squadron slept soundly after their trip to Elsinore, and Clyde Blacklock, true to the promise he had made to himself, kept awake to watch his chances to escape. Not a sound was to be heard in the ship, and the intense silence was even more trying to the prisoner in the brig than the noise and bustle of the whole crew when awake. Ryder, the fourth lieutenant, and two seamen had the anchor watch on deck. Each officer served two hours, and was required at the stroke of the bell, every half hour, to walk through the steerage, where no light was permitted after nine o’clock.
Clyde took the saw from its hiding-place under the stairs, and commenced work on one of the slats. The instrument was very sharp, but the noise it made promised to betray him, and he was obliged to use it with extreme caution. Bracing the slat with one shoulder, he worked the saw very slowly, so that the wood should not vibrate. The process was very slow, and twice he was obliged to conceal his saw and lie down on the bed at the approach of the officer of the watch. After working more than an hour, he succeeded in cutting off one of the slats, just far enoughabove the deck to avoid the nails with which it was secured. But it was fastened at the top as well as at the bottom, and when he pulled it in to wrench it from its position, it creaked horribly, and he was obliged to labor with it another half hour, before he could pull it in far enough to permit his exit. In the middle of the operation he was obliged to restore it partly to its position, and lie down again, to escape the observation of the officer of the anchor watch.
His care and patience were finally successful, though, if the sleepers around him had not been very tired, some of them must have been disturbed even by the little noise he made. The removal of the single slat gave him an opening of about nine inches, which was narrow even for him; but he contrived to work himself through it. Putting the slat back into its original position, and wedging it down with a copper, so that the means of his escape might not readily be seen, he crept carefully forward to the ladder under the forecastle, where he paused to consider the means by which he should escape from the vessel. He began to realize that this was a more difficult matter than getting out of the brig. He knew that the anchor watch consisted of an officer and two seamen.
While he was thinking of the matter, eight bells struck; and he was aware that the watch was changed at this hour. Retiring to the kitchen to wait for a more favorable moment, he heard the two seamen come down the ladder to call the relief. As they entered one of the mess-rooms, he ran up the ladder, and concealed himself under the top-gallant forecastle. In a few moments he heard the relief on deck, andfrom his hiding-place saw the officer on the quarter-deck with a lantern in his hand. The two seamen took their places on the top-gallant forecastle, where they could see the entire deck, and any boat or vessel that approached the ship.
Clyde did not regard the situation as very hopeful. The night was chilly, and he did not feel at all inclined to swim ashore, which he had intended to do, as a last resort. The boats were all hoisted up at the davits, as if to provide for just such cases as his own. He listened with interest to the conversation of the watch above him; but he could not identify their voices, and was unable to determine whether it was safe for him to address them. In fact he was unable to determine upon anything, and bell after bell struck without finding him any better prepared to make a move. At four bells, or two o’clock in the morning, the watch was relieved again, and Clyde remained in the same unsettled state of mind. But when the two seamen went below to call the relief, he changed his position, crawling into the waist, where he disposed himself under the lee of the rail. Over his head was the fourth cutter, one of the smallest of the boats.
Clyde could see the dark form of the officer walking to and fro on the quarter-deck, and his presence was not favorable to any movement. He found the cleats where the falls of the boat were made fast, and he was considering the practicability of casting them off, letting the cutter drop into the water, and then sliding down on a rope. The officer of the anchor watch seemed to be the only obstacle in his way. He began to experiment with the falls. Casting off one ofthem, he carefully let the rope slip over the cleat till he had lowered the bow of the cutter about two feet. He repeated the operation upon the stern fall. He let off the rope so gradually that the noise did not attract the attention of any of the watch.
Five bells struck, and the officer descended to the steerage. While he was absent, Clyde dropped each end of the boat about four feet more, and then coiled himself away until the officer had returned to his station. But it was nearly daylight, and he was compelled to hurry on with his work. Little by little he let out the falls, till the fourth cutter floated in the water. When the officer went below, at six bells, he climbed upon the rail, and slid down on the bow fall into the boat. Casting off the falls, he pushed the cutter astern of the ship, and for the first time began to feel as though he were free. He was afraid to use an oar, lest the noise should attract the attention of the watch on deck. He felt that he had managed his escape with exceeding cleverness, and was unwilling to risk anything now in the moment of success. The wind carried the boat clear of the ship, and he lay down in the stern sheets, so that if the officer on the quarter-deck discovered the cutter, he might suppose no one was in her.
He had occupied this position but a moment before he heard a rushing noise near him, and, raising his head, discovered a small schooner, under full sail, headed directly upon him. He had hardly time to stand up before the bow of the vessel was within his reach.
“Hallo!” shouted he, in terror, for the thought of being carried under the keel of the schooner was appalling.
But the cutter was crowded aside by the vessel, and Clyde sprang upon her deck, while his boat went astern of her.
Too late, the schooner luffed up, and Clyde seated himself on the rail to catch his breath. Two men came to him, and spoke in Norwegian.
“I speak English,” replied Clyde.
“You are English?” said the captain.
“Yes; I don’t speak anything else.”
“I speak English,” replied the skipper, as he went back to the helm, and Clyde followed him.
“Where are you bound?” asked the runaway.
“To Stockholm.”
“You are Danish, I suppose.”
“No, Norwegian.”
“All the same.”
“What shall I do with you?”
“I will go to Stockholm with you, and pay my passage, if you like,” added Clyde, who wished to get as far as possible from the ship.
“You shall, if you like; or you shall work, if you please. I lose a young sailor, and I want another, to work in his place.”
“No; I will go as a passenger, or not at all,” replied Clyde, very decidedly.
“What you do in a boat so late in the night?” asked the skipper.
“I was going on shore to find a steamer for Stockholm. I will pay you twenty species for my passage,” added the runaway.
“You are very kind to pay so much. You shall have my berth; but it will be long time to Stockholm in my vessel.”
“No matter; I am satisfied.”
“I shall pick up the boat you lose?”
“No; never mind the boat,” answered Clyde, impatiently, as he glanced at the ship.
The captain questioned him about the boat more particularly; but the fugitive gave such answers as he pleased. Though the skipper was very rough and savage to the two men who formed his crew, he treated his passenger at first with much consideration. The little cabin of the schooner was a nasty hole, and if Clyde had not been very sleepy, he could hardly have closed his eyes there; but before the vessel was out of sight of Copenhagen, his slumber was deep and heavy.
The shout of the fugitive when he was in danger of being run down had been heard by the officer on the quarter-deck of the Young America. He saw the collision, and discovered the cutter when it went astern of the vessel; but he did not suspect that it belonged to the ship. The schooner filled away on her course again, after she had luffed up, and the boat was adrift. He deemed it his duty to secure it before it was stove by some early steamer from Malmö, or elsewhere, and calling the two seamen, he directed them to lower the fourth cutter. But the fourth cutter was already lowered, and the officer began to think that the boat adrift was the missing one. The third cutter, therefore, was used, and when the two seamen had pulled off in her, the officer went below and called Peaks.
The boatswain took his lantern, and went to the brig, as soon as he was told that the fourth cutter was adrift. The bird had flown. The door was secure,and all the slats were apparently in their place; but the appearance of a small quantity of saw-dust indicated where the breach had been made. A little pressure forced in the sawn slat, and Peaks understood why the prisoner had only desired to be left alone.
“Were you all asleep on deck?” asked Peaks of the officer.
“No, sir; I have not been asleep on duty,” replied Beckwith, the officer.
“Didn’t you see him lower the boat?”
“Of course I did not.”
“I don’t see how it was done, then,” added Peaks. “But where is the prisoner?”
“I don’t know. I suppose he went on board that small schooner that run down the cutter.”
“Where is she?”
Beckwith pointed to a sail headed to the south-east, which was just visible in the faint light of the early morning.
“He is out of our reach for the present,” said Peaks, in utter disgust, as he descended the steps to the main cabin.
Mr. Lowington was informed of the escape of Clyde, but no steamer could be obtained at that early hour to chase the schooner, and the matter was permitted to rest as it was. When all hands turned out in the morning, a strict investigation was made; but no one who had served on the anchor watch was able to give any information. No one had seen the boat lowered, and no one had heard the saw. Peaks went on shore, and ascertained that the Norwegian schooner Rensdyr had sailed at an early hour. She had cleared forStockholm, and was doubtless on her way there. The principal was so much interested in the fate of Clyde, or rather in his reformation, that he determined to follow up the fugitive. The English steamer Newsky, from London to Stockholm, was then in port, and when she sailed that day, Peaks was sent in her to intercept the runaway on his arrival at Stockholm.
After breakfast, Mr. Andersen came on board, inspected the ship, and witnessed some of the evolutions in seamanship, which included the manning of the yards in honor of his visit. At the invitation of Paul Kendall he went on board of the Grace, and took a sail up the Sound, dining on board, and returning in the afternoon. The students again went on shore, and visited the Rosenberg Palace, an irregular structure of red brick, with a high peaked roof and four towers. Connected with it is an extensive and beautiful garden, adorned with statues. The palace was built for Christian IV., in 1604, but is no longer a royal residence, being filled with various national collections of arms, medals, and antiquities, including many historical mementos of kings and other great men of Denmark. Among them are the saddle, bridle, and caparisons, the sword and pistols, presented by King Christian IV. to his eldest son at his marriage. They are adorned with diamonds, pearls, and gold, and cost a million francs in Paris.
In the afternoon the students marched to the Palace of Frederiksberg, whose park is a favorite resort of the people of the city. The building contains nothing worth seeing; indeed, portions of it have been rented for the use of private families; but the garden is beautifullylaid out with kiosks, bridges over the winding canal, on which float a great number of white swans, with little islands, studded with groves and pleasant grassy slopes. The palace stands on the only eminence near Copenhagen. On pleasant days, especially on Sundays, this park is filled with family picnics, little parties bringing their own lunch, and spending the day in these delightful groves.
During the remainder of the day the students wandered over the city, each seeking what pleased him most. When they went on board the vessels, they were entirely satisfied with what they had seen of Copenhagen, and were ready to visit some other city. Very early the next morning, Mr. Blaine, with all but three of the absentees, came on board. The head steward told his story, and Scott and Laybold told their story; the former, as usual, being the spokesman. The wag told the whole truth, exactly as it was; that they were ashamed to come on board while so tipsy, and had missed the train at the junction.
“Have you drank any finkel since?” asked the principal.
“No, sir; not a drop. One glass was enough for me,” replied Scott.
“And you, Laybold?”
“No, sir.”
“You may both return to your duty,” added the principal.
Both were astonished at being let off so easily; but Mr. Lowington was satisfied that they spoke the truth, and had not intended to run away. The others were also ordered to attend to their duty, but with the intimationthat their conduct would be investigated at the return of Sanford and Stockwell, who, with Ole, had left the party at Katherineholm.
The signal for sailing was flying on board of the Young America, and at seven o’clock the squadron was under way, continuing the voyage “up the Baltic.” No notice seemed to be taken of the absence of Sanford and Stockwell, but everybody believed that the principal knew what he was about. The wind was tolerably fresh from the west-south-west, and the squadron made rapid progress through the water, logging ten knots all day. The students watched with interest the villages on the coast of Denmark, with their sharp, red roofs, and the swarms of fishing-boats moored in front of them. The shores of Sweden were in sight all the time, and at three o’clock in the afternoon land was also seen on the starboard bow. But the masters, who were constantly watching the chart, were not at all astonished, though the seamen were.
“What land is that, Scott?” asked Laybold.
“That? Why, don’t you know?”
“I’m sure I don’t. I know Germany is over there somewhere, but I didn’t expect to run into it so near Sweden.”
“That’s Gabogginholm.”
“Is it in Germany?”
“No; it’s an island, at least a hundred and fifty miles from Germany. The Baltic is rather a big thing out here.”
“How do you remember those long names, Scott?”
“What long names?”
“Such as the name of that island. I couldn’t recollect such a word ten minutes.”
“Nor I either. I know them by instinct.”
“What did you say the name of the island is?”
“Gastringumboggin.”
“That isn’t what you said before.”
“I’ve forgotten what I did say it was. You musn’t ask me twice about a name, for I say I can’t remember,” laughed Scott.
“You are selling me.”
“Of course I am; and you go off cheaper than any fellow I ever saw before. I haven’t the least idea what the land is, except that it must be an island not less than a hundred and fifty miles from Prussia.”
“That’s Bornholm,” said Walker, a seamen, who had heard the name from the officers. “It’s an island twenty-six miles long and fifteen wide, belongs to Denmark, and has thirty-two thousand inhabitants, and a lot of round churches on it. That’s what the fellows on the quarter-deck say.”
“Precisely so,” replied Scott. “You have learned your lesson well. What is the principal town on that island?”
“I don’t know,” answered Walker.
“Stubbenboggin,” said Scott.
“Who told you so?”
“My grandmother,” laughed the wag, as he turned on his heel, and walked away.
Towards night the wind subsided, and the squadron was almost becalmed; but a light breeze sprang up after dark, and in the morning the ship was off the southern point of Oland, an island ninety miles longby ten wide, and well covered with forests. On the narrow strait which separates it from the main land is Calmar, a town of historic interest, in Sweden. At noon the southern point of Gottland was seen, and Scott insisted upon calling it “Gabungenboggin,” though the real name was soon circulated. It is eighty miles long by thirty-three wide, and contains fifty-four thousand inhabitants. Wisby is the only town. The island is noted for its beautiful climate, which makes it a pleasant resort for summer tourists.
At sunrise on the following morning, the ship leading the squadron was approaching the islands which cover the entrance to the harbor of Stockholm. Pilots were taken by the several vessels, and the fleet entered the archipelago, through which it was to sail for thirty miles. At first the openings were very wide, and not much of the shore could be seen; but soon the distances grew less, and the shores were studded with villages and fine residences. The little steamers—some of them not so large as the ship’s first cutter—began to appear; and at eight o’clock the Young America let go her anchor between Staden and Skeppsholm, off the quay near the palace, which was crowded with steamers.
“Here we are, Laybold,” said Scott, when the sails had been furled, and every rope coiled away in its place.
“That’s so. What’s that big building on the shore?”
“That’s the Slottenboggin,” laughed Scott.
“No, you don’t! You can’t sell me again with your boggins.”
“I’ll bet half a pint of salt water it is the king’s palace.”
“Very likely it is; and here is a fine building on the other side.”
“That must be the Wobbleboggin.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Perhaps it isn’t; but twig these little steamers,” added Scott, pointing to one of the snorting miniature boats that plied across the arm of the sea opposite the quay. “The pilot and engineer, and a boy to take the fares, seem to be the officers, crew, and all hands.”
“And in some of them all hands are boys.”
The boats seemed to contain nothing but the engine and boiler, which were in a compact mass, without covering. All around them were seats. Forward of the engine was a little steering-wheel, hardly more than a foot in diameter, at which the pilot—often a boy—was seated.
“I want a complete view of the city,” said Captain Lincoln, at this moment coming into the waist with the surgeon and Norwood. “I think I can get it from the main cross-trees.”
“I am too stiff to go aloft,” replied Dr. Winstock; “but I commend your plan.”
“I’m with you,” added Norwood, as he followed the captain up the main rigging.
From this lofty position on the cross-trees the two officers obtained a good idea of the situation of the city. The three islands which form the central portion of the city lay in the strait leading to the Mäler Lake. The north and south suburbs were on each side of it. Skeppsholm, Castellholm, and the Djurgărden—Deer Garden—were other islands, lying nearer the Baltic. The finest portion of the city seemed to bethe northern suburbs. While they were studying the panorama of the place, all hands were called to lecture, and they hastened to their places in the steerage. Professor Mapps was at his post, with the map on the foremast.
“Sweden is calledSverigeby the natives; LaSuèdeby the French;Schwedenby the Germans;La Sveziaby the Italians; andSueciaby the Spaniards. It contains one hundred and sixty-eight thousand square miles—a territory equal in extent to the six New England States, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Delaware united. Its population is a little over four millions—about the same as that of the State of New York. It is nearly a thousand miles long from north to south, with an average breadth of two hundred miles. By far the greater portion of it is very sparsely settled, for it extends from fifty-five degrees of north latitude up to the arctic regions. It contains no important rivers, though its large lakes and arms of the sea are valuable as avenues of navigation. Over eighty lakes are mentioned.”
The instructer described the Wenern and Wettern Lakes, and the Göta Canal, which passes through them.
“Sweden is an agricultural country, and its principal manufactures are lumber and iron. It has six hundred and thirty-eight miles of railway, and the steamers which you see at the quay, mostly of iron, and built in Sweden, ply to all parts of the country.
“The average of the temperature in Stockholm is forty-two degrees, or twenty-five degrees for winter, and sixty-two degrees for summer. From what youhave already seen of Sweden, I think you will consider it very like New England. The interior has about the same physical features, and you will see there similar houses, barns, and fences.
“The government is a limited monarchy, based on the constitution of 1809, and since amended. The king must be a Lutheran. He has an absolute veto on the acts of the legislature. The Diet, or Parliament, consists of two houses, the upper of which is composed of one hundred and twenty-seven members, or one for every thirty thousand inhabitants. The lower house consists of one hundred and eighty-eight members, fifty-five of whom are elected by the towns, and the rest by the rural districts, at the rate of one for every forty thousand people. Property qualifications are required for either house, and all members must be Protestants. They are paid a salary of three hundred and thirty-five dollars of our money, and their travelling expenses, for the session of four months.
“I have incidentally spoken of the history of Sweden in connection with that of Norway and Denmark. The kingdom was founded by Odin, and for a long period the history of the country is a record of the wars with Norway and Denmark, and it was finally conquered by Margaret, and by the Union of Calmar the three kingdoms were consolidated in 1397. It became a Christian nation early in the eleventh century. Sweden was doubtless the first anti-slavery power; for, during the reign of Birger II., about 1300, a law against the sale of slaves was enacted, with the declaration that it was ‘in the highest degreecriminal for Christians to sell men whom Christ had redeemed by his blood.’
“In 1520 Gustavus Ericsson excited a rebellion against Christian II., of Denmark, who had murdered his father and many other Swedes. This revolution was successful three years later, and its leader made king, under the title of Gustaf I., often called Gustavus Vasa, or Wasa. He was succeeded by his son, and the throne continued in his family; but the next notable sovereign was Gustaf II., or Gustavus Adolphus. His grandfather, Gustavus Vasa, had established the Protestant religion in Sweden; but his nephew, Sigismond, who had been elected king of Poland, and had become a Catholic, succeeded to the throne. Endeavoring to change the established religion, he was deposed, and the succession changed. This caused a war between Sweden, and Russia, and Poland. Gustavus was only eighteen when he came to the throne, with this war bequeathed to him. He was full of energy, and defeated his enemies on all sides. Austria was the leader of the Catholic party in Europe, which was striving to restore the papal supremacy. Gustavus Adolphus held a similar relation to the Protestant party. He was engaged in the Thirty Years’ War, and won many decisive victories. He captured Munich, and overran Bavaria, but was finally killed in the battle of Lützen, in 1632. By his prowess and skill he raised Sweden to the rank of one of the first kingdoms of Europe.
“He was succeeded by his daughter, Christina, then only six years old. She reigned but seven years after she became of age, abdicating in favor of hercousin Charles X. She died in Rome, after a dissolute and shameful life, and was interred in St. Peter’s Church. Charles was at war with the Danes during his brief reign, and achieved the daring military feat of crossing the Great and Little Belts on the ice, which enabled him to dictate his own terms of peace with the Danes. The Swedes consider him one of their greatest kings. His son, Charles XI., followed him, and ruled for thirty-seven years. After a brief period of peace, another war with Denmark ensued, which resulted to the ultimate advantage of Sweden. This king contrived to obtain from the Diet the gift of absolute power, which, in the hands of his son and successor, Charles XII., nearly ruined the nation. Russia, Poland, and Denmark combined to rob him of a considerable portion of his kingdom, and Charles XII., at the age of sixteen, displayed an energy and a skill far beyond his years. He conquered a peace with Denmark first, and then turned his attention to the rest of his enemies, whom he overwhelmed and subdued. With nine thousand men he defeated a Russian army of forty thousand, under Peter the Great, at Narva. He vanquished the armies of Poland and Saxony, and attempted the conquest of Russia, but was utterly defeated in the battle of Pultowa, and escaped into Turkish territory, where he remained for five years. Here he brought about a war between Turkey and Russia, and the army of the former shut up that of Peter the Great in the Crimea. The lady who was afterwards Catharine I. bribed the grand vizier with all her jewels to allow the Russians to escape, and this event utterly ruined the hopes of themonarch of Sweden. Finally the Turks drove him from their country, and, after various vicissitudes, he arrived in his own, and was killed, in 1718, at Frederikhald, in Norway. While he was away, his enemies had been appropriating his territory, and Sweden was reduced to a second-class power.
“The Diet elected Ulrica Eleonora, sister of Charles, queen, who resigned in favor of her husband, Fredrik I. Another war with Russia followed, and Sweden lost more of her territory. Adolf Fredrik succeeded to the throne in 1751, who was elected by the Diet. Still another war with Russia was carried on during his reign. His son, Gustaf III., with the aid of his soldiers, increased the powers of the crown; but he was assassinated at a ball, in 1792, and his son, Gustaf Adolf IV., came to the throne. His policy involved the nation in a war with the allies, and he lost Finland and Pomerania. He was so unpopular that he was compelled to abdicate, and his uncle, Charles XIII., was raised to the throne in 1809. He had no children, and the Prince of Holstein-Augustenburg was elected as his successor; but he was assassinated, and one of Napoleon’s generals, Bernadotte, was chosen crown prince, and in 1818 he succeeded to the throne as Charles XIV. His reign was a successful one, and his efforts to secure Norway to his adopted country made him popular even before he was king. He espoused the cause of the allies against Napoleon, and was well cared for by them when the affairs of Europe were finally settled.
“His son Oscar was his heir, and came to the throne at the death of his father in 1844. He wasfollowed by his son, Charles XV., the present king, in 1859.
“The army organization is similar to that of Denmark, and about one hundred and fifty thousand men are available for service. The navy contains four monitors on the American plan, which were invented by John Ericsson, a Swede, two iron-clad gunboats, twenty-one steamers, and sixteen sailing vessels, besides a great number of floating batteries, and other stationary craft. Although only about six thousand sailors are actually in the navy, nearly thirty thousand can be had in case of war.”
The professor finished his lecture, and the students hastened on deck, to see more of the sights which surrounded them.
THE CRUISE IN THE LITTLE STEAMER.
“What’s the use, Stockwell?” said Sanford, as the absentees seated themselves on the train for Malmö, under the charge of the head steward. “Blaine got his despatch from the principal last night, but he didn’t say a word to us till this morning. He’s playing a sharp game.”
“That’s so,” replied Stockwell. “He don’t mean to trust us out of sight again.”
“Don’t say a word to any fellow,” whispered the coxswain. “You and I will fight it out on our own hook.”
“I understand. It is plain enough that Blaine regards us as runaways, and I suppose the principal will do the same.”
“Very likely; and when we get to Russia, all we shall have to do will be to count our fingers in the steerage, while the rest of the fellows are seeing the Russians,” continued Sanford, who now appeared to regard “the independent excursion without running away” as a failure. “We shall not even see anything more of Stockholm. I don’t like the idea.”
“Well, what are you going to do about it?” asked Stockwell.
“At the first chance we will leave this train, and make our way back to Stockholm,” whispered Sanford. “There is a steamer to St. Petersburg twice a week, and we have money enough to carry us through.”
“Right; I am with you.”
“We will take Ole, if you like, to do the talking for us.”
“I don’t object.”
The train stopped at Katherineholm about half past nine. The boys had taken nothing but the Swedish early breakfast of coffee and a biscuit, and the head steward allowed them to have a more substantial meal, each paying for himself. They entered the restaurant, where, on a large table in the centre of the room, were great dishes of broiled salmon and veal cutlets, with high piles of plates near them. Each passenger helped himself at these dishes, and then seated himself at one of the little tables. When he had finished his salmon, he helped himself to veal cutlets; beer and coffee were served by the waiters. Sanford and Stockwell hurried through the meal, and went to the counter where the woman received payment. She asked them some question and they were obliged to call Ole, to know what she said. She asked if they had had beer or coffee, which was extra, the meal being one and a half rix dalers. She gave them a tin check; for at this place they seemed to be sharper than the Swedes usually are, and the check was to enable them to get out of the restaurant. A man at the door received it, and no one was allowed to pass without it; and thus none could leave without paying for the meal.
“Finished your breakfast, Ole?” said Sanford, carelessly.
“Yes; and that salmon was very good.”
“First rate. Come with us, Ole,” added the coxswain, as he led the way out of the restaurant.
The trio entered the station, and as no one followed them, they left by the front door. Dodging behind the buildings, they soon cleared the station. Taking the public road, they walked for half an hour at a rapid pace, and then halted to consider the situation. The train had gone, for they had heard its departure; but whether Mr. Blaine had gone or not was an open question.
“What next?” said Sanford, as he seated himself at the side of the road.
“Take the train back to Stockholm,” replied Stockwell.
“Perhaps Blaine did not go on, after he missed us.”
“Of course he did. But whether he did or not, the train has gone, and he cannot take us to Copenhagen. If we find him at the station, why, we took a little walk, and lost the train, you know.”
“That’s played out,” replied Sanford. “We have missed the train too many times, already. What time does the next one return to Stockholm?”
“I don’t know. Let’s go back to the station.”
This course was adopted, and on their arrival they learned that they could return to Stockholm at half past two in the afternoon. The man in charge said that the gentleman with the young men had been looking for them. Sanford replied, through Ole, that they had lost the train, but would return to Stockholm,and start again the next morning. After dining in the restaurant, the runaways—as they certainly were now, if not before—departed, and arrived at their destination in about three hours. They immediately went to the office on the quay, and learned that a steamer would leave for St. Petersburg at two o’clock on Friday morning.
“Can we engage places now?” asked Sanford,—for the clerk in charge spoke English.
“Certainly.”
“We will take three places in one room,” added the coxswain.
“Have you passports?” asked the clerk.
“No, sir.”
“We cannot sell you tickets then.”
“Not without passports?” exclaimed Sanford, appalled at this new difficulty.
“No; and passports must beviséby the Russian consul before we can issue a ticket.”
“We are down then,” added the coxswain. “My passport is on board of the ship.”
“So is mine,” added Stockwell.
“And I never had any,” said Ole.
The party left the steamer’s office, and were unable to devise any means of overcoming the obstacle. They went to the Hotel Rydberg again, and consulted the porter, who had been very kind to them before. This functionary is entirely different in European hotels from those of the same name in the United States. He stands at the entrance, usually dressed in uniform, to answer all inquiries of guests, and to do all that is required of the clerks in American hotels.He assured the anxious inquirers that, even if they got into Russia, their passports would be immediately demanded, and that no one could remain in any city there over night without one. The American minister in Stockholm would give them the required documents.
“But Ole, here, is a Norwegian,” suggested Sanford.
“No matter. Have him put into your passport as your courier or servant.”
“All right; we will see him to-morrow,” replied the coxswain; and the problem seemed to be solved.
The next day they went to the American legation, but the minister had gone to Upsala for a week, and the secretary declined to issue the passports, because the boys could not prove that they were citizens of the United States. Vexed and discouraged, they wandered about the city till Friday noon, when an English steamer came into port. They stood on the quay, watching the movements of the passengers as they landed. They had almost concluded to take a steamer to Stettin, Lübeck, or some other port in Germany; but Russia was a strange land, and they were not willing to abandon the idea of seeing its sights.
“I wonder whether this steamer goes any farther,” said Stockwell.
“I don’t know,” added Sanford.
“Perhaps she goes to St. Petersburg. It may be her officers are not so particular about the confounded passports.”
“But you can’t stay in Russia over night without one, even if you get there.”
“The American minister will fit us out with them. I expect to find a letter of credit in St. Petersburg, and that will prove that I am an American.”
“Let us go on board of the steamer and ascertain where she is going,” continued Sanford, as he led the way across the plank, which had been extended from the deck to the stone pier.
The boys went upon the hurricane deck, where they had seen an officer who looked as though he might be the captain.
“Do you go to St. Petersburg, captain?” asked the coxswain.
“No; we return to London, touching only at Copenhagen,” replied the officer.
“That’s too bad!” exclaimed Stockwell.
“So it is,” said a tall man, who had followed the runaways up the steps from the lower deck. “But you are not going to St. Petersburg without the rest of us—are you?”
Sanford was startled, and turning sharp around, saw Peaks, who had come out of the cabin as the boys stepped on board. He had followed them to the hurricane deck, and suspecting that something was wrong, he had waited till the coxswain’s question betrayed their intention.
“No, we are not going to St. Petersburg; we are waiting for the ship,” replied Sanford, recovering his self-possession in an instant.
“O, you are? All right, then. But the last I heard of you was, that you were all on your way to Copenhagen to join the ship,” added the boatswain.
“So we were, Mr. Peaks; but after we had takenbreakfast at a station on the railroad, we went to have a little walk, and see something of the country. We thought we had time enough, but the train—confound it!—went off without us. We were terribly provoked, but we couldn’t help ourselves, you know; so we made our way back to this city.”
“I think you must have been very badly provoked,” said Peaks.
“O, we were,—honor bright.”
“But you thought you would go over to St. Petersburg before the ship arrived?”
“Certainly not; we had no idea of going to St. Petersburg.”
“And that’s the reason you asked whether this steamer was going there,—because you hadn’t any idea of going.”
“We know very well that we can’t go to St. Petersburg without our passports, which are on board of the ship,” protested Sanford.
“Yes, I understand; but who is this?” asked Peaks, as he glanced at Ole.
“That’s Ole Amundsen; don’t you remember him?”
“I think I do. And he is on a lark with you.”
“We are not on a lark. We have been trying with all our might to find the ship, for the last fortnight; and we are bound to do so, or die in the attempt,” said Stockwell.
“And Ole has been with you all the time?”
“Yes, sir; we couldn’t have done anything without him.”
“And would have been on board the ship longago, if you hadn’t had him to speak the lingo for you.”
“When we tell you our story, you will see that we have done our best to find the ship.”
“I don’t know that I care to hear any more of your story; it’s too much story for me, and you can tell it to Mr. Lowington, who will be here by to-morrow, I think. Very likely you can take me to a good hotel.”
“Yes, sir; we are staying at the Hotel Rydberg, which is the best in Stockholm.”
“Heave ahead, then.”
The runaways led the way.
“Do you talk the Swedish lingo, Ole?” asked the boatswain.
“Yes, sir.”
“Where did you stow yourself, when we went into Christiansand?”
“In the second cutter, sir,” replied the waif, laughing.
“Exactly so; you were to go with her crew when they left.”
“No, sir; I didn’t know a single one of them.”
“What did you hide for, then?”
“Because I didn’t want the pilot to see me.”
“Why not?” asked the boatswain.
But this was as far as Ole would go in that direction. Neither man nor boy could extort from him the secret he so persistently retained. A short walk brought the party to the Hotel Rydberg.
“This gentleman wants a room,” said Sanford to the porter.
“No. 29,” said the man, calling a servant. “Did you get your passports, young men?”
Sanford drew back, and made energetic signs to the porter to keep still; but the official failed to understand him.
“No; they haven’t got them yet,” replied Peaks. “The fact is, all the passports are on board the ship.”
“But the young gentlemen were very anxious to obtain new ones, so that they could go to St. Petersburg. They intended to leave by this morning’s steamer, but no tickets can be had without passports.”
Both Sanford and Stockwell shook their heads to the stupid porter, who was remarkably intelligent on all other points; but somehow he did not see them, or could not comprehend them.
“It’s too bad about those passports—isn’t it, my lads?” laughed Peaks, turning to the runaways. “Here’s more proof that you hadn’t the least idea of going to St. Petersburg.”
“I was very sorry for the young gentlemen, and did the best I could for them,” added the gentlemanly porter.
“No doubt you did; and I’m very much obliged to you for the trouble you took,” replied the good-natured boatswain.
“No. 29, sir?” interposed the servant, with the key in his hand.
“Ay, ay, my hearty. But, young gentlemen, I want to save you from any more terrible disappointments and awful vexations in finding the ship. I’m going up to my bunk, and if I don’t find you here when I come down, I shall call on the American consul, andask him to put the police on your track. You shall find the ship this time, or perish in the attempt, sure.”
“Here’s a go!” exclaimed Stockwell, as the servant conducted the boatswain up the stairs to his chamber.
“What did you say anything to him about the passports for?” snapped Sanford to the porter.
The official in uniform by this time understood the matter, and apologized, promising to make it all right with the tall gentleman, and to swear that not a word had been said to him or any one else about passports. It was his business to please everybody, and his perquisites depended upon his skill in doing so.
“What did Peaks mean about police?” said Sanford, as the trio seated themselves near the front door of the hotel.
“He means what he says; confound him, he always does!” replied Stockwell. “He intends to treat us as runaway seamen, and have us arrested if we attempt to leave.”
“We are trapped,” muttered Sanford. “What’s Peaks doing up here?”
“I don’t know, unless he is looking for us.”
“It makes no difference now. We are caught, and we may as well make the best of it.”
“It’s all up with us,” added the coxswain. “Peaks knows what he is about, and there isn’t much chance of getting the weather-gage of him.”
The boatswain came down in a short time. He was cool and good-natured, and knew exactly how to deal with the parties in hand.
“Now, young gentlemen, if you are going to Russia,don’t let me detain you. If you wish to go any where else, I shall not meddle myself. I shall let the American consul attend to the matter. I have business here, and I can’t keep an eye on you. But if you want to be fair and square, and not break your hearts because you can’t find the ship, just be in sight when I want to know where you are.”
“We shall be right on your heels all the time, Mr. Peaks. If you don’t object, we will go with you. We know the way round Stockholm, and will help you all we can,” said Stockwell.
“That’s sensible.”
“We will show you out to the Djurgarden,” added Sanford.
“Never mind the shows. I want Ole to talk for me, and I don’t object to your company,” replied the boatswain.
“I beg your pardon, sir,” said the porter, presenting himself to Peaks at this moment. “I made a bad mistake. It was not these young gentlemen who wanted the passports. It was another party.”
“Exactly. I understand,” replied the boatswain, turning to the boys with a significant smile on his bronzed face.
“They were waiting for you, and were very anxious to join their ship.”
“It was very kind of them to wait for me, when they hadn’t the least idea I was coming. All right, my hearty; you needn’t trouble yourself to smooth it over. How much did you pay him for those lies, Sanford?”
“Not a cent, sir!”
“Never mind; don’t bother your heads any more about it. I understand the matter now as well as I shall after you have explained it for a week,” answered Peaks, as he left the hotel, followed by the discomfited trio.
The boatswain did not deem it expedient to explain to them his business in Stockholm. He found people enough who spoke English, so that he was able to dispense with the services of Ole as interpreter. He ascertained that no such vessel as the Rensdyr had yet arrived, and satisfied with this information, he went out to the Djurgarden with his charge, dined at Hasselbacken, and made himself quite comfortable.
After breakfast the next morning, with Ole’s assistance, he chartered one of the little steamers, which was about the size of the ship’s second cutter, and, taking the trio with him, sailed out towards the Baltic.
“Where are you going, Mr. Peaks?” asked Sanford, deeply mystified by the movements of the boatswain.
“I’m going to make a trip down to the Baltic, to see what I can see,” replied Peaks.
“Are you going for the fun of it?”
“Well, that depends upon how you view it. I suppose you are going for the fun of it, whether I am or not.”
“But we would like to know what is up,” added Sanford.
“Young gentlemen should not be inquisitive,” laughed the old salt.
“Because, if you are going out to meet the ship, in order to put us on board—”
“I’m not going for any such purpose,” interposed the boatswain. “I shouldn’t take all that trouble on your account.”
“But where are you going?”
“That’s my affair, my lad.”
“We don’t mean to give you any trouble on our account,” said Sanford, who could not readily dispossess himself of the belief that the expedition was to put his party on board of the ship when she hove in sight.
“Of course you don’t, my tender lambs. You have been so anxious to find the ship, and get on board, it would be cruel to suspect you of any mischief,” laughed Peaks.
“But, honor bright, Mr. Peaks, whatever we intended, we are ready now to do just what you say, and return to the ship as soon as we can.”
“You are all nice boys. You have had a good time, and I think you ought to be satisfied.”
“We are satisfied; but I suppose we shall have no liberty again, after we go on board.”
“Perhaps you will; the principal isn’t hard with the boys when they come right square up to the mark; but you can’t humbug him.”