ent to be
what he is,--a simple _bonde_."

Friedhof shook his head quite obstinately. "A Jarl is always a Jarl," he
declared. "Nothing can alter a man's birth and nature. And the last time
I saw Valdemar Svensen,--he who lives with your father now,--he was
careful always to speak of the _Jarl_, and seldom or never did he
mention him in any other fashion. And now, noble Froeken, in what manner
can I serve you?"

Thelma told him briefly that she was going to see her father on
business, and that she was desirous of starting for Norway the next day
as early as possible.

Friedhof held up his hands in amazement. "Ah! most surely you forget,"
he exclaimed, using the picturesque expressions of his native speech,
"that this is the sleeping time of the sun! Even at the Hardanger Fjord
it is dark and silent,--the falling streams freeze with cold on their
way; and if it is so at the Hardanger, what will it be at the Alten? And
there is no passenger ship going to Christiania or Bergen for a
fortnight!"

Thelma clasped her hands in dismay. "But I _must_ go!" she cried
impatiently; "I must, indeed, good Friedhof! I cannot stay here! Surely,
surely there is some vessel that would take me,--some fishing
boat,--what does it matter how I travel, so long as I get away?"

The landlord looked at her rather wonderingly. "Nay, if it is indeed so
urgent, noble Froeken," he replied, "do not trouble, for there is a means
of making the journey. But for _you_, and in such bitter weather, it
seems a cruelty to speak of it. A steam cargo-boat leaves here for
Hammerfest and the North Cape to-morrow--it will pass the Altenfjord. No
doubt you could go with that, if you so choose,--but there will be no
warmth or comfort, and there are heavy storms on the North Sea. I know
the captain; and 'tis true he takes his wife with him, so there would be
a woman on board,--yet--"

Thelma interrupted him. She pressed two sovereigns into his hand.

"Say no more, Friedhof," she said eagerly. "You will take me to see this
captain--you will tell him I must go with him. My father will thank you
for this kindness to me, even better than I can."

"It does not seem to me a kindness at all," returned Friedhof with frank
bluntness. "I would be loth to sail the seas myself in such weather. And
I thought you were so grandly married, Froeken Gueldmar,--though I forget
your wedded name,--how comes it that your husband is not with you?"

"He is very busy in London," an