d not having the patience to exist without something
to do, in utter despair he committed suicide in his prison."

After the visit to the fortress, the boys were allowed to walk about
the city at their own pleasure; and a few of the officers went with
Mr. Lowington and the doctor to the establishment of Mr. Bennett, an
Englishman, who fitted out travellers intending to journey in the
interior with carioles and all the other requisites. His rooms were
stored with books and Norwegian curiosities and antiquities. In the
court-yard of the house was a large number of second-hand carioles,
which are the sole vehicles used for crossing the country. A
traveller, wishing to go to Trondhjem or Bergen, would purchase the
cariole in Christiania, and when he had done with it, dispose of it at
the other end of his route, horses between being supplied according to
law at the post stations on the road. Travellers coming from Trondhjem
or Bergen sell their vehicles to Mr. Bennett. In his rooms are
miniature models of the cariole for sale, which visitors purchase as
a memento of their tour; as those who climb Pilatus and Rhigi, in
Switzerland, buy an alpenstock on which are printed the names of the
mountains they have ascended with its help.

The principal and his companions walked up to the Victoria Hotel, and
inquired for Captain Kendall. He had just returned from a ride, and
while the waiter was taking Mr. Lowington's card to him, Peaks
presented himself in the court-yard.

"Can't find him, sir," said the boatswain, touching his hat.

"He must be somewhere in the city."

"This man has toted me all over the town, but we can't hear a word of
him. He wore the uniform of the ship, and people can't tell one
student from another."

"I am confident he has not left the city."

"Perhaps he has," replied Peaks, as the servant returned, followed by
Captain Kendall.

"Have you lost anything or anybody?" asked Paul, laughing, after he
had saluted the principal.

"Yes, we have lost a student; an English boy we shipped at
Christiansand. Have you seen him?"

"Yes, sir; his room is No. 32--next to mine," replied Paul, still
laughing, as though he were much amused.

He was much amused; and that others may sympathize with him, let the
reader return to Clyde Blacklock, who had shut himself up in his room
to await the arrival of his mother. He had not been in the house ten
minutes before he began to be impatient and disgusted with his
self-