“No definite news, but everything was very hopeful. They sent word by the steamer to Granton, and telegraphed from there to our station in Öifjord.” “What did they say?” “That as yet there was no catch of herrings, but that everything was most promising, as plenty of whales were seen every day at the mouth of the fjord. Oh, I am perfectly satisfied. I have had no anxiety about the expedition since then.” So father and daughter set out together. It was a clear frosty morning, the wintry air was invigorating, and Sigrid thought she had never seen her father look so well before; his step seemed so light, his brow so smooth, his eyes so unclouded. Beyer’s shop had fascinations for them both; she lingered long in the neighborhood of the Tauchnitz shelves, while Herr Falck discussed the news with some one behind the counter, and admired the pictures so temptingly displayed. “Look here, Sigrid!” he exclaimed. “Did you ever see a prettier little water-color than that? Bergen in winter, from the harbor. What is the price of it? A hundred kroner? I must really have it. It shall be a present to you in memory of our walk.” Sigrid was delighted with the picture, and Herr Falck himself seemed as pleased with it as a child with a new toy. They talked away together, planning where it should hang at home and saying how it was just the sort of thing Frithiof would like. “It is quite a pity he did not see it when he was away in Germany, he would have liked to have it when he was suffering from _Heimweh_,” said Sigrid. “Well, all that sort of thing is over for him, I hope,” said Herr Falck. “No need that he should be away from Bergen any more, except now and then for a holiday. And if ever you marry a foreigner, Sigrid, you will be able to take Bergen with you as a consolation.” They made their way up to a little wooded hill above the fortress, which commanded a wide and beautiful view. “Ah!” cried Herr Falck. “Look there, Sigrid! Look, look! there is surely a vessel coming.” She gazed out seaward. “You have better eyes than I have, father. Whereabouts? Oh! yes, now I see, ever so far away. Do you think it is one of yours?” “I can’t tell yet,” said Herr Falck; and glancing at him she saw that he was in an agony of impatience, and that the old troubled look had come back to his face. Again the nameless fear which had seized her in the summer took possession of her. She would not bother him with questions, but waited silently beside him, wondering why he was so unusually excited, wishing that she understood business matters, longing for Frithiof, who would perhaps have known all about it and could have reassured her. “Yes, yes,” cried Herr Falck at length, “I am almost sure it is one of our Öifjord vessels. Yes! I am certain it is the ‘Solid.’ Now the great question is this—is she loaded or only ballasted?”