which the travelers found a comfort that is rare in Norwegian inns.

Hulda and her mother were in the habit of retiring early when they
were alone, and Dame Hansen had already lighted her candle, and was
on her way upstairs, when a loud knocking at the door made them both
start.

"Dame Hansen! Dame Hansen!" cried a voice.

Dame Hansen paused on the stairs.

"Who can have come so late?" she exclaimed.

"Can it be that Joel has met with an accident?" returned Hulda,
quickly.

And she hastened toward the door.

She found a lad there--one of the young rascals known as _skydskarls_,
that make a living by clinging to the back of kariols, and taking the
horse back when the journey is ended.

"What do you want here at this hour?" asked Hulda.

"First of all to bid you good-evening," replied the boy,
mischievously.

"Is that all?"

"No; that isn't all; but a boy oughtn't to forget his manners, ought
he?"

"You are right. But who sent you?"

"Your brother Joel."

"And what for?" asked Dame Hansen, advancing to the door with the
slow and measured tread that is a characteristic of the inhabitants of
Norway. There is quicksilver in the veins of their soil, but little or
none in the veins of their bodies.

The reply had evidently caused the mother some anxiety, however, for
she added hastily:

"Has anything happened to my son?"

"No, but the Christiania postman gave him a letter, and--"

"A letter from Drammen?" repeated Dame Hansen, in a lower tone.

"I don't know about that," replied the youth. "All I do know is, that
Joel can't get home before to-morrow, and he sent me here to deliver
the letter."

"It is important then?"

"I should judge so."

"Hand it here," said Dame Hansen, in a tone that betrayed keen
anxiety.

"Here it is, clean and not wrinkled in the least. But the letter is
not for you."

Dame Hansen seemed to breathe more freely.

"Then who is it for?" she asked.

"For your daughter."

"For me!" cried Hulda. "It is a letter from Ole! I am sure it is--a
letter that came by way of Christiania. My brother did not want me to
be kept waiting."

Hulda had snatched the letter from the boy's hand, and now taking
it to the table upon which her mother had deposited the candle, she
examined the address.

"Yes, it is from him. It is certainly from him! Heaven grant that he
writes to announce the speedy return of the 'Viking'!"

"Won't you come in?" said Dame Hansen, turning to the boy.