"I think I was--I'm not sure. It was something about Nick Jasniff--he
was trying to take something from me and I got afraid of him. That is
all I can remember."

"I thought I heard you scream--when the vessel gave that awful lurch a
few minutes ago."

"That woke me up, and I found myself in one of the passageways not far
from here. I was dazed by the tumble I received, but got back here all
right."

"After this you had better tie yourself to the bed," was Dave's final
remark, and then he turned in again and the light was again
extinguished.

But anything more than fitful dozes could not be had. The North Sea is
well known for its violent storms during the winter months, and this one
proved to be a "corker," as Dave called it afterwards. The waves were
lashed into a tremendous fury, and some broke over the steamer's deck
with terrific force, one carrying away a twenty-foot section of the
forward rail. The high wind was accompanied by a snow that was as fine
and hard as salt, and this sifted through every crack the windows and
doors afforded.

"No port to-day," said Dave; and he was right. To run close to the
Norwegian coast in such a high wind, and with so much snow flying, was
dangerous, and they had to remain for twenty-four hours longer at the
entrance to Christiania Fjord--_fjord_ being the local name for bay.

But at last the snow stopped coming down and the wind subsided a little,
and the steamer headed up the bay to Drobak, located on the east shore
of the harbor. Here there was a good deal of floating ice, and plowing
among it were vessels of all kinds and sizes, all covered with ice and
snow.

"It's wintry enough up here, goodness knows," remarked Roger. "I wonder
how far north Christiania is?"

"I was looking it up on the map," answered Dave. "It is located about
sixty degrees north, which is just about the latitude of the lower coast
of Greenland."

"What, as far north as that! No wonder it is cold."

"Don't forget, Roger, that Norway is the Land of the Midnight Sun. At
the far north they have a night lasting about three months."

"Well, I don't want such a night as that, just yet."

"No--you might do too much sleep-walking," and Dave grinned.

"Oh, cut that out!" and the face of the senator's son grew red.

"I shan't mention it again."

Drobak is but a small place, containing less than twenty-five hundred
inhabitants, but during the winter all the shipping of the fjord
congregates ther