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Page 8
Upon a sign from Dame Katrina, Otto, Erik, and Vanda bade them
good-night and left the room.
"You wonder why I have come," said the doctor, after a moments' silence,
fixing his penetrating glance upon the fisherman.
"My guests are always welcome," answered the fisherman, sententiously.
"Yes! I know that Noroe is famous for hospitality. But you must
certainly have asked yourself what motive could have induced me to leave
the society of my old friend Malarius and come to you. I am sure that
Dame Hersebom has some suspicion of my motive."
"We shall know when you tell us," replied the good woman,
diplomatically.
"Well," said the doctor, with a sigh, "since you will not help me, I
must face it alone. Your son, Erik, Master Hersebom, is a most
remarkable child."
"I do not complain of him," answered the fisherman.
"He is singularly intelligent, and well informed for his age," continued
the doctor. "I questioned him to-day, in school, and I was very much
surprised by the extraordinary ability which his answers displayed. I
was also astonished, when I learned his name, to see that he bore no
resemblance to you, nor indeed to any of the natives of this country."
The fisherman and his wife remained silent and motionless.
"To be brief," continued the doctor, with visible impatience, "this
child not only interests me--he puzzles me. I have talked with Malarius,
who told me that he was not your son, but that he had been cast on your
shore by a shipwreck, and that you took him in and adopted him, bringing
him up as your own, and bestowing your name upon him. This is true, is
it not?"
"Yes, doctor," answered Hersebom, gravely.
"If he is not our son by birth, he is in love and affection," said
Katrina, with moist eyes and trembling hands. "Between him, and Otto,
and Vanda, we have made no difference--we have never thought of him only
as our own child."
"These sentiments do you both honor," said the doctor, moved by the
emotion of the brave woman. "But I beg of you, my friends, relate to me
the history of this child. I have come to hear it, and I assure you that
I wish him well."
The fisherman appeared to hesitate a moment. Then seeing that the doctor
was waiting impatiently for him to speak, he concluded to gratify him.
"You have been told the truth," he said, regretfully; "the child is not
our son. Twelve years ago I was fishing near the island at the entrance
of the fiord, near the open sea. You know it is surrounded by a sand
bank, and that cod-fish are plentiful there. After a good day's work, I
drew in my lines, and was going to hoist my sail, when something white
moving upon the water, about a mile off, attracted my attention. The sea
was calm, and there was nothing pressing to hurry me home, so I had the
curiosity to go and see what this white object was. In ten minutes I had
reached it. It was a little wicker cradle, enveloped in a woolen cloth,
and strongly tied to a buoy. I drew it toward me; an emotion which I
could not understand seized me; I beheld a sleeping infant, about seven
or eight months old, whose little fists were tightly clinched. He looked
a little pale and cold, but did not appear to have suffered much from
his adventurous voyage, if one might judge by his lusty screams when he
awoke, as he did immediately, when he no longer felt himself rocked by
the waves. Our little Otto was over two years old, and I knew how to
manage such little rogues. I rolled up a bit of rag, dipped it in some
_eau de vie_ and water that I had with me, and gave it to him to suck.
This quieted him at once, and he seemed to enjoy the cordial. But I knew
that he would not be quiet long, therefore I made all haste to return to
Noroe. I had untied the cradle and placed it in the boat at my feet; and
while I attended to my sail, I watched the poor little one, and asked
myself where it could possibly have come from. Doubtless from some
shipwrecked vessel. A fierce tempest had been raging during the night,
and there had been many disasters. But by what means had this infant
escaped the fate of those who had had the charge of him? How had they
thought of tying him to the buoy? How many hours had he been floating on
the waves? Where were his father and mother, those who loved him? But
all these questions had to remain unanswered, the poor baby was unable
to give us any information. In half an hour I was at home, and gave my
new possession to Katrina. We had a cow then, and she was immediately
pressed into service as a nurse for the infant. He was so pretty, so
smiling, so rosy, when he had been fed and warmed before the fire, that
we fell in love with him at once; just the same as if he had been our
own. And then, you see, we took care of him; we brought him up, and we
have never made any difference between him and our own two children. Is
it not true, wife?" added Mr. Hersebom, turning toward Katrina.
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