sadly bereaved home. "Cheer up, and hope,
mutterchen! You have a son still left you, who will never desert you or
quit his post of looking after you, till Eric, the dear boy, comes
back."

"I know, my son, I know your love and affection," replied Madame Dort,
pressing his arm to her side affectionately; "but, who can tell what the
future may have in store for us? Ah, it's a wise proverb that, dear
son, which reminds us that `man proposes, but God disposes!'"

"It is so," murmured Fritz, more to himself than to her; "still, I trust
we'll all meet again beneath the old roof-tree."

"And I the same, from the bottom of my heart!" said his mother, in
cordial sympathy with his wish, as she began to ascend the steps leading
up to her dwelling; while Fritz returned to the counting-house of his
employer, Herr Grosschnapper, to finish those duties which had been
interrupted by his having to see Eric off.

CHAPTER TWO.

A THUNDERCLAP!

It was late in the autumn when Eric left Lubeck on his way to Rotterdam,
where he was to go on board the good ship _Gustav Barentz_, bound on a
trading voyage to the eastern isles of the Indian Ocean; and, as the
year rolled on, bringing winter in its train--a season which the Dort
family had hitherto always hailed with pleasure on account of its
festive associations--the hours lagged with the now sadly diminished
little household in the Gulden Strasse; for, the merry Christmas-tide
reminded them more than ever of the absent sailor boy, who had always
been the very life and soul of the home circle, and the eagerly sought-
for guest at every neighbourly gathering.

"It does not seem at all the same now the dear lad is away on the seas,"
said old Lorischen, the whilom nurse, and now part servant, part
companion of Madame Dort. "Indeed, I cannot fancy him far-distant at
all. I feel as if he were only just gone out skating on the canal, and
that we might expect him in again at any moment!"

"Ah, I miss him every minute of the day," replied Madame Dort, who was
sitting on one side of the white porcelain stove that occupied a cosy
corner of the sitting-room, facing the old nurse, who was busily engaged
knitting a pair of lambs-wool stockings on the other.

"It is now--aye, just two months since the dear lad left us," continued
Lorischen, "and we've never had a line from him yet. I hope no evil has
befallen the ship!"

"Oh, don't say such a thing as that," said Madame Dort nervously.