e, doctor. I am not a millionaire, and you may be
sure if we had spent all we had, we should have discovered nothing. I
have done the best I could; we have raised the little one as our own
son, we have loved him and taken care of him."

"Even more than the two others, if it were possible," interrupted
Katrina, drying her eyes on the corner of her apron. "If we have
anything to reproach ourselves for, it is for bestowing upon him too
large a share of our tenderness."

"Dame Hersebom, you must not do me the injustice to suppose that your
kindness to the little shipwrecked child inspires me with any other
feeling than the greatest admiration," said the doctor.

"No, you must not think such a thing. But if you wish me to speak
frankly--I must say that this tenderness has blinded you to your duty.
You should have endeavored to discover the family of the infant, as far
as your means permitted."

There was perfect silence for a few minutes.

"It is possible that we have done wrong," said Mr. Hersebom, who had
hung his head under this reproach. "But what is done can not be altered.
Erik belongs to us now, and I do not wish any one to speak to him about
these old reminiscences."

"You need have no fear, I will not betray your confidence," answered the
doctor, rising.

"I must leave you, my good friends, and I wish you good-night--a night
free from remorse," he added, gravely.

Then he put on his fur cloak, and shook hands cordially with his hosts,
and being conducted to the door by Hersebom, he took the road toward his
factory.

The fisherman stood for a moment on the threshold, watching his
retreating figure in the moonlight.

"What a devil of a man!" he murmured, as at last he closed his door.

CHAPTER III.

MR. HERSEBOM'S REFLECTIONS.

The next morning Dr. Schwaryencrona had just finished breakfast with his
overseer, after having made a thorough inspection of his factory when he
saw a person enter whom he did not at first recognize as Mr. Hersebom.

He was clothed in his holiday suit: his embroidered waistcoat, his
furred riding coat, and his high hat, and the fisherman looked very
different to what he did in his working clothes. But what made the
change more apparent, was the deep sadness and humility portrayed in his
countenance. His eyes were red, and looked as if he had had no sleep all
the night.

This was in fact the case. Mr. Hersebom who up to this time had never
felt his conscience trouble