lacing the surprise presents, which were to tell the members of
the family in the morning that they had not been overlooked in the
customary distribution of those little gifts that form the most pleasing
remembrances of the festive season in Germany, did not omit also to fill
the stocking which Eric had suspended from the head of his bedstead
before leaving--he having laughingly said that he expected to find it
chock-full when he returned home in time for the next Christmas feast,
as he was certain that Santa Claus would never be so unkind as to forget
him because he chanced to be away and so missed his turn in the usual
visit of the benevolent patron of the little ones!

Time passed on at Lubeck, the same as it does everywhere else. The year
turned and the months flew by. Winter gave place to spring, when the
adamantine chains with which the ice-king had bound the rivers and
waters of the north were loosed asunder by the mighty power of the
exultant sun; the snow melted away from the earth, which decked itself
in green to rejoice at its freedom, smiling in satisfaction with
flowers; while the trees began to clothe their ragged limbs and branches
in dainty apparel, and the birds to sing at the approach of summer.

June came, when Madame Dort had fully expected to hear of Eric's arrival
at Batavia; but the month waned to its close without any letter coming
to gladden the mother's heart again, nor was there any news to be heard
of the good ship _Gustav Barentz_ in the commercial world--not a single
telegram having been received to report her having reached her
destination, nor was there any mention of her having been seen and
signalled by some passing vessel, save that time when she was met off
the Cape de Verde Islands in the previous November. It began to look
ominous!

But, while Madame Dort was filled with apprehension as to the fate of
her younger son, a sudden conjuncture of circumstances almost made her
forget Eric. This was, the unexpected summons of Fritz from her side,
to battle with the legions of Germany against the threatened invasion of
"the Fatherland" by France.

At the time, it looked sudden enough. A little cloud, no bigger than a
man's hand, had arisen on the horizon of European politics, which, each
moment, grew blacker and more portentous; and, in a brief while, it
burst into a war that deluged the vine-clad slopes of Rhineland and the
fair plains of Lorraine with blood and fire, making havoc