d contest the possession of your
Pliny?"

"It appears to me to be rather a forced conclusion," replied the doctor,
taking the letter and reading it over again, to see if he could find any
new arguments to support his theory.

"How forced?" cried the advocate.

"I have proved to you that the vessel was an American one, and that she
was lost off the Faroe Islands, that is to say, near the coast of
Norway, precisely at the time which corresponds to the arrival of the
infant, and still you are not convinced of your error."

"Not in the least, my dear friend. I do not dispute the value or your
document. You have discovered what I have found it impossible to do--the
true 'Cynthia,' which was lost at a little distance from our coast, and
at a specified epoch; but permit me to say, that this only confirms
precisely my theory, for the vessel was a Canadian one, or in other
words, English, and the Irish element is very strong in some parts of
Canada, and I have therefore more reason than ever for being sure that
the child is of Irish origin."

"Ah, is that what you find in my letter?" said Mr. Bredejord, more vexed
than he was willing to appear to be. "Then without doubt you persist in
believing that you have not lost your Pliny?"

"Assuredly!"

"Perhaps you think you have a right to my Quintilian?"

"I hope in any case to be able to prove my right, thanks to your
discovery, if you will only give me time by renewing the bet."

"I am willing. I ask nothing better. How much time do you want?"

"Let us take two more years, and wait until the second Christmas after
this one."

"It is agreed," answered Mr. Bredejord. "But be assured, doctor, that
you will finally see me in possession of your Pliny!"

"By my faith no. It will make a fine appearance in my book-case beside
your Quintilian."

CHAPTER VII.

VANDA'S OPINION.

In the beginning, Erik burning with zeal at the sacrifice which he had
made, devoted all his energies to a fisherman's life, and tried to
forget that he had ever known any other. He was always the first to rise
and prepare the boat for his adopted father, who found every morning all
the arrangements completed, and he had only to step on board. If the
wind failed, then Erik took the heavy oars, and rowed with all his
strength, seeming to choose the hardest and most fatiguing duties.
Nothing discouraged him, neither the long waiting for the fish to seize
the bait, nor the various preparations