Takes care of me? No, sir; I'm quite certain I haven't any one that
takes care of me. I take care of myself, and it's heavy work I find
it, sometimes, I can tell you."

"Do you ever go fishing?"

"Yes, sir, sometimes."

"Have you been lately?"

Ole was silent again.

"I wish to be your friend, Ole."

"Thank you, sir," added Ole, bowing low.

"But in order to know what to do for you, I must know something about
your circumstances."

"I haven't any circumstances, sir. I lost 'em all," replied Ole,
gravely and sadly, as though he had met with a very serious loss.

Dr. Winstock could not help laughing, but it was impossible to decide
whether the boy was ignorant of the meaning of the word, or was trying
to perpetrate a joke.

"How did you happen to lose your circumstances, Ole?" asked Mr.
Lowington.

"When my mother died, Captain Olaf took 'em."

"Indeed; and who is Captain Olaf?"

Ole looked at the principal, and then returned his gaze to the cabin
floor, evidently not deeming it prudent to answer the question.

"Is he your brother?"

"No, sir."

"Your uncle?"

"No, sir."

Ole could not be induced to say anything more about Captain Olaf,
and doubtless regretted that he had even mentioned his name. The waif
plainly confounded "circumstances" and property. Mr. Lowington several
times returned to the main inquiry, but the young man would not even
hint at the explanation of the manner in which he had come to be a
waif on the North Sea, in an open boat, half full of water. He had
told the captain that he was not wrecked, and had not been blown off
from the coast. He would make no answer of any kind to any direct
question relating to the subject.

"Well, Ole, as you will not tell me how you came in the situation in
which we found you, I do not see that I can do anything for you,"
continued Mr. Lowington. "The ship is bound to Christiansand, and when
we arrive we must leave you there."

"Don't leave me in Christiansand, sir. I don't want to be left there."

"Why not?"

Ole was silent again. Both the principal and the surgeon pitied him,
for he appeared to be a friendless orphan; certainly he had no friends
to whom he wished to go, and was only anxious to remain in the ship,
and go to America in her.

"You may go into the steerage now, Ole," said the principal,
despairing of any further solution of the mystery.

"Thank you, sir," replied Ole, bowing low, and backing out of the
cabin as a courtier