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Page 2
Therefore the Scandinavian Peninsula may flatter herself, that she has
produced more learned and distinguished men in proportion to her
population, than any other region of Europe. The traveler is constantly
astonished by the contrast between the wild and savage aspect of nature,
and the manufactures, and works of art, which represent the most refined
civilization.
But perhaps it is time for us to return to Noroe, and Dr.
Schwaryencrona, whom we have left on the threshold of the school. If the
pupils had been quick to recognize him, although they had never seen him
before, it had been different with the instructor, whose acquaintance
with him dated further back.
"Ah! good-day, my dear Malarius!" said the visitor cordially, advancing
with outstretched hands toward the school-master.
"Sir! you are very welcome," answered the latter, a little surprised,
and somewhat timidly, as is customary with all men who have lived
secluded lives; and are interrupted in the midst of their duties. "But
excuse me if I ask whom I have the honor of--"
"What! Have I changed so much since we ran together over the snow, and
smoked our long pipes at Christiania; have you forgotten our Krauss
boarding-house, and must I name your comrade and friend?"
"Schwaryencrona!" cried Mr. Malarius. "Is it possible.--Is it really
you.--Is it the doctor?"
"Oh! I beg of you, omit all ceremony. I am your old friend Roff, and you
are my brave Olaf, the best, the dearest friend of my youth. Yes, I know
you well. We have both changed a little in thirty years; but our hearts
are still young, and we have always kept a little corner in them for
those whom we learned to love, when we were students, and eat our dry
bread side by side."
The doctor laughed, and squeezed the hands of Mr. Malarius, whose eyes
were moist.
"My dear friend, my good excellent doctor, you must not stay here," said
he; "I will give all these youngsters a holiday, for which they will not
be sorry, I assure you, and then you must go home with me."
"Not at all!" declared the doctor, turning toward the pupils who were
watching this scene with lively interest. "I must neither interfere with
your work, nor the studies of these youths. If you wish to give me great
pleasure, you will permit me to sit here near you, while you resume your
teaching."
"I would willingly do so," answered Mr. Malarius, "but to tell you the
truth, I have no longer any heart for geometry; besides, having
mentioned a holiday, I do not like to disappoint the children. There is
one way of arranging the matter however. If Doctor Schwaryencrona would
deign to do my pupils the honor of questioning them about their studies,
and then I will dismiss them for the rest of the day."
"An excellent idea. I shall be only too happy to do so. I will become
their examiner."
Then taking the master's seat, he addressed the school:
"Tell me," asked the doctor, "who is the best pupil?"
"Erik Hersebom!" answered fifty youthful voices unhesitatingly.
"Ah! Erik Hersebom. Well, Erik, will you come here?"
A young boy, about twelve years of age, who was seated on the front row
of benches, approached his chair. He was a grave, serious-looking child,
whose pensive cast of countenance, and large deep set eyes, would have
attracted attention anywhere, and he was the more remarkable, because of
the blonde heads by which he was surrounded. While all his companions of
both sexes had hair the color of flax, rosy complexions, and blue eyes,
his hair was of deep chestnut color, like his eyes, and his skin was
brown. He had not the prominent cheek bones, the short nose, and the
stout frame of these Scandinavian children. In a word, by his physical
characteristics so plainly marked, it was evident that he did not belong
to the race by whom he was surrounded.
He was clothed like them in the coarse cloth of the country, made in the
style common among the peasantry of Bergen; but the delicacy of his
limbs, the smallness of his head, the easy elegance of his poise, and
the natural gracefulness of his movements and attitudes, all seemed to
denote a foreign origin.
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