THE MEETING OF THE ABSENTEES.
Scott and Laybold, after imbibing a single glass of "finkel" each,
which proved to be more than they could carry, retreated into a narrow
lane, to escape the observation of a party of officers who were on
their way to the landing. Neither of them had any inclination for
intoxicating drinks, and had taken the stuff without knowing what it
was. But they were conscious that everything was not right with them.
They found it quite impossible to walk in a straight line, and even
the problem of standing up was not demonstrated to the entire
satisfaction of either of them. Talking was not without its
difficulties, for their tongues seemed to be double their ordinary
thickness, and their lips and other organs of speech were not as
manageable as usual. For a time the effects of the potent liquor
increased upon them, and as they had taken it in a hungry condition,
they realized its full power.
They staggered up the lane, conscious that they were making a
ridiculous figure, though the solemn Swedes hardly smiled as they
observed the effects of the national beverage. They dreaded an
encounter with any of the officers, or others connected with the
squadron; but in this unfrequented lane they were not likely to meet
any of their shipmates. As there is more power in four legs than in
two, however weak in detail they may be, the tipsy students locked
arms, and leaned on each other, one attempting to counteract the
obliquities of the other. They wandered along without knowing whither
they were going, till they came to a small public house, which had a
bench in front of it for the accommodation of the topers who
frequented the bar-room. By mutual consent, and without argument, the
unfortunate couple aimed for this seat as soon as they saw it, for it
promised a grateful respite from the perils of locomotion. The
"finkel" was now doing its utmost upon them. Their heads were dizzy,
and everything was wofully uncertain; still they knew what they were
about, and had sense enough left to dread the consequences of their
indiscretion. After they had seated themselves, they glanced at each
other, as if to ascertain the condition one of the other.
"Lay--bold," said Scott.
"Well, old fellow," replied the other, with a desperate attempt to
stiffen his muscles.
"We're zrunk," added Scott, trying to laugh.
"I know that."
"We're very zrunk."
"I'm not zbad zyou."
"I don't zknow."
The conversation extended no further then, for speech required an
effort they were incapable of making. Scott gaped violently, and
seemed to be sick; but his contortions ended in his falling asleep,
with his head tipped back against the wall. Laybold, more nice in the
disposition of his helpless body, stretched himself on the bench, and
was soon lost to all consciousness of the outer world. The publican
who kept the house came out and looked at the juvenile tipplers.
Doubtless he had seen too many drunken sailors to misapprehend their
condition. He understood the matter perfectly, and being a thrifty
Swede, he was disposed to turn their condition to his own emolument.
He had sundry vacant chambers in his hotel, whose revenues swelled the
sum total of his annual profits, and it hurt his feelings to have them
remain unoccupied. Besides, the air was chilly, and the young
strangers might take cold, and contract a severe illness by such
exposure. But whether he was a publican or a Samaritan in his
intentions, he decided to remove the strangers to the rooms beneath
his hospitable roof. Summoning the porter to his aid, they jointly
bore Laybold to his apartment, and laid him on the bed, which, in
spite of the low character of the house, was a model of Swedish
neatness. When Scott's turn came, he offered some resistance to the
good intentions of the publican; but his head was too thoroughly
muddled for successful opposition. Between the effects of sleep and
"finkel" he could not obtain a very clear idea of what was going on.
He was placed on another bed in the room with his shipmate. They were
both comfortably disposed on their clean couches, the pillows nicely
adjusted beneath their heads, and their bodies covered with blankets.
The two students were very tired as well as very tipsy, and their
slumbers were deep and heavy. It was after nine o'clock, though it was
still light in the chamber, and the young tars usually retired, when
not on watch, before this seemly hour. "Finkel" and fatigue did the
rest, and they slept, without rocking, till long after the early sun
broke into the windows of their apartment. We have seen the effect of
"finkel" upon one unaccustomed to the use of liquor, and upon boys of
fifteen or sixteen it could not but be entirely overpowering. It is a
dangerous fluid, and is taken by the Swedes at all times, being the
first thing at meals, and especially at the inevitable "snack" that
precedes a regular dinner. There is, doubtless, good ground for the
fear which has been expressed that the people of Sweden are in danger
of becoming "a nation of drunkards."
Scott was the first to open his eyes and come to his senses. He raised
himself in the bed, shook off the blanket, and then jumped out upon
the floor. He did not comprehend the situation, and was unable, in his
own words, to "figure up how he happened to be in that room."
"Laybold, ahoy!" shouted he, after he had examined the apartment, and
mentally confessed his inability to solve the problem. "Laybold! All
hands on deck!"
"What is the matter?" cried Laybold, springing up, only half awake.
"I'll be muzzled if I know what the matter is, but I believe that the
Norway god--what's his name?--Odin, came aboard the ship last night,
and turned her into a country tavern," replied Scott, going to the
window, and looking down into the lane below.
"How came we here?" asked Laybold, rubbing his eyes.
"That's more than I know; but I think we have been transplanted by the
spirits."
"The spirits?" gaped Laybold.
"Yes; I believe they call them 'finkel.' We were tight last night, my
boy."
"I remember all about it now. I dreamed that somebody lugged me in
here."
"You didn't exactly dream it, for here we are. We are in a pretty
scrape."
"That's so," added Laybold, shaking his head. "We didn't mean to run
away, but that's just what we have done."
"We didn't run a great way; for, if I remember rightly, running wasn't
our _forte_ last evening. Who runs may reel, if he can't read, and I
reckon we did more reeling than running. But what's to be done?"
"I don't know."
"In the first place, where are we? It's no use to lay out a course
till we know the ship's position."
They were utterly unable to determine this question. Each of them had
a tolerably vivid recollection of their unfortunate condition on the
preceding evening, and even that he had been carried by a couple of
men; but they had no idea of time or locality. They washed themselves
at the sink in the room, combed their hair with their pocket-combs,
and looked then as though nothing had happened. Their heads were a
little light, but they did not absolutely ache, and they realized but
a small portion of the after effects of a regular "spree." Having made
their simple toilet, they decided to explore the premises, and make
their way back to the ship. Leaving the chamber, they descended a
flight of steps, and, in the hall below, encountered the Samaritan
landlord.
"_God morgon_," said the latter, with a jolly smile on his face; and
it was probable that he had taken his morning dose of "finkel." "_Hur
star det till?_" (How are you?)
"Nix," replied Scott, shrugging his shoulders.
"You are English," added the landlord, a large portion of whose
customers were foreign sailors.
"No; Americans."
"I'm glad to see you."
"I'm glad to see you, too, if you can tell us how we happen to be
here."
"Too much 'finkel,'" laughed the publican, as he proceeded to explain
the situation, and to enlarge upon the fatherly interest which had
induced him to take them in for the night.
"All right, my hearty. I see you can keep a hotel," added Scott. "How
much have we to pay?"
"Two rigsdalers; but you want some breakfast."
"I do, for one," replied Scott.
"So do I," said Laybold. "We only had a little lunch last night, and
that 'finkel' spoiled my appetite--or the fish spawn. I don't know
which."
About five o'clock they sat down to breakfast, which consisted of a
great variety of little things, such as the small fishes, herrings,
smoked salmon, sausages. The coffee was magnificent, as it generally
is in Sweden, even on board of steamers, where, in our own country, it
is least expected to be good.
"What is this?" said Scott, taking up half a great brown biscuit.
"That's Swedish bread. We bake it once in six months," replied the
landlord.
"Not bad," added Scott, as he tasted the article.
"This is Graham bread, I suppose," said Laybold, as he took a slice of
the coarse brown bread. "Bah! it's sour."
It always is; and both the students rejected it, though they ate a
hearty meal of white bread, herring, salmon, and sausage.
"Now, how much?" asked Scott, when they were ready to go.
"One rigsdaler and fifty oere each--three rigsdalers in all."
"Cheap enough," said Scott. "Two lodgings and two breakfasts for
eighty-one cents."
The students walked through the lane in which they had made their
devious way the night before, to the main street on the canal. At the
landing-place there were no boats belonging to the squadron, and
everything looked exceedingly quiet on board of the ship. Seating
themselves on the pier, with their legs hanging over the water, they
decided to wait till a boat came to the shore.
"We shall catch it for this," said Laybold.
"No more liberty for a month at least," said Scott, shrugging his
shoulders after his fashion.
"I don't think it's fair. We didn't mean to get drunk, and didn't know
what 'finkel' was," added Laybold. "I don't half like to go on board
again."
"Nor I; but I suppose we must face the music," answered Scott,
dubiously. "I'm glad we didn't go on board while we were boozy. The
fellows would have laughed at us for a year, if we had."
"That's so; and Lowington would have put us in the brig."
"I don't exactly like to explain the reason why we didn't go on board
last night; I always was a bashful fellow."
"You didn't go with the others," said a man, coming up to them at this
moment, and speaking in broken English.
"What others? Where?" replied Scott.
"The other students. They took the steamer up the canal at two o'clock
this morning."
"Whew!" whistled Scott. "We have lost Goeta Canal and the falls."
"They will return to-night by the railroad from Wenersberg," added the
man, who was an agent of the canal steamers.
"That's too bad!" exclaimed Laybold, as the man walked away.
"I don't know that it is too bad. Our leave would have been stopped if
we had gone on board," laughed Scott, who generally took the most
cheerful view of any disagreeable subject. "Why can't we go on our own
hook?"
"I like that idea," added Laybold.
But inquiring of the agent, they learned that the canal steamers left
only at two o'clock in the morning.
"There's a railroad, or the fellows couldn't come back that way,"
suggested Laybold.
"That's so; you have more wisdom than a Duxbury clam."
They ascertained that a train left Gottenburg at noon, by which they
could reach Wenersberg the same day. They knew nothing of the plan of
the principal, which included a special train from the canal to the
main line of railway; but they desired to see more of the interior of
Sweden, and they were confident they should see the excursionists
either at Wenersberg or on the way. It suited them better to make a
trip even for a few hours, than to wander about a city which they had
already exhausted. But they were obliged to wait some time for the
train, and, after a couple of hours of "heavy loafing" about the
streets, they returned to the pier. An English steamer had just
arrived, and a boat was landing her passengers.
"Who are those fellows?" said Laybold, pointing to the steamer's boat.
"They wear the ship's uniform."
"Right; they do, and they came from that steamer," replied Scott.
"There's Sanford! I should know him a mile off. They are the second
cutters, or I am a Dutchman."
"Right again," added Scott, as the passengers landed.
The steamer was the one in which Sanford and his companions had taken
passage at Christiania the evening before. The absentees, "on a cruise
without running away," were sorry to see the ship at anchor in the
harbor, for some of them had hoped to be too late for her. When they
landed, the first persons they encountered were Scott and Laybold, who
gave them a very cordial greeting. Each party had a story to tell of
its own adventures, and Scott knew Sanford and his associates too well
to think it necessary to conceal from them the fact that he and
Laybold had been the sad victims of "finkel."
"But why don't you go on board?" asked Burchmore.
"What's the use? All the fellows have gone up to Wobblewopkins, or
some other place, to see the falls, and take an inside view of
Sweden," replied Scott. "We intend to go and do likewise."
"Won't you go with us?" added Laybold.
The intentions of the two were explained to the others, and they
all decided to join the party. Sanford was not without a hope that
something would occur to prolong the "independent trip without running
away."
"How are you off for stamps?" asked Burchmore of the two who were by
this arrangement added to his party, for which he had thus far done
the financiering.
"We have a little Swedish money, and some sovereigns," replied Scott.
"But how many sovereigns? We may be prevented from joining the ship
for a few days, and we want to know where we are in money matters,"
interposed Sanford.
"We have enough to buy out one or two of these one-horse kingdoms,
like Denmark and Sweden. I have twenty sovereigns, and Laybold has
about a thousand," answered Scott.
"No I haven't," protested Laybold, laughing at the extravagance of his
friend. "I have only twenty-five sovereigns."
"And a letter of credit for a thousand more; so it's the same thing."
"No, no; knock off one cipher, Scott."
"Well, seeing it's you, I'll knock off just one; but not another to
please any fellow, even if he were my grandmother's first cousin,"
added Scott.
"There's some difference between a hundred and a thousand pounds,"
suggested Sanford.
"A slight difference," said Laybold.
"I don't expect any of us will live long enough to spend a hundred
pounds in this country, which is about eighteen hundred of these
tricks-bunker dollars, to say nothing of a thousand. Why, we paid only
three bunkers for two lodgings and two breakfasts. How's a fellow ever
to spend eighteen hundred bunkers? For my part, I think I'm lucky in
having less than four hundred of the things to get rid of."
"But you needn't feel under the necessity of spending all your money
in this country," laughed the cashier.
"My father promised to send me some more; but I hope he won't do it
till I get out of Sweden. If he does I shall be ruined. Here's poor
Laybold, with a letter of credit for a hundred pounds, besides
twenty-five in cash. I pity the poor fellow. It wouldn't be so bad in
London, where it costs a fellow from ten to twenty shillings a day to
breathe."
"I think I shall be able to survive," added Laybold.
"I hope so; but you ought to hear him talk about his bankers. Topsails
and topping-lifts! His bankers! Messrs. Pitchers Brothers & Co."
"No! Bowles Brothers & Co," interposed Laybold.
"It's all the same thing; there isn't much difference between bowls
and pitchers. One breaks as easy as the other."
"But my bankers don't break."
"His bankers! Do you hear that? Well, I don't believe they'll break,
for all my folks, when they travel in Europe, carry the same letter of
credit in their trousers pocket. I had to write to my paternal parent
all last year, care of Bowles Brothers & Co., 449 Strand, Charing
Cross, W. C. London, England. You see I've learned my lesson."
"My letters from home come through the same house," said Laybold, "and
so do those of fifty other fellows."
"About the money matters," interposed Burchmore. "Shall I act for the
crowd, as I did in Norway?"
"For me, yes; and I hope you'll help Laybold out on the big financial
job he has on his hands," said Scott.
"All right," added Laybold.
"I have settled up for the fellows on the Norway trip. Now, each of
you give me a couple of sovereigns, which I will change into Swedish
money."
This arrangement was made to the satisfaction of all, and the cashier
went to an exchange office, where he procured Swedish paper for the
gold.
"Scott, I shouldn't wonder if the principal saved you the trouble of
spending your twenty pounds before we go much farther," said Sanford.
"I shall thank him with tears in my eyes if he does," replied Scott,
with a solemn look.
"I don't believe you will. When the ship came over before, every
fellow had to give up his money, and the purser doled it out to the
fellows in shillings or sixpences when they went ashore."
"I'm sure it was very kind of him to take so much trouble."
"You don't think so."
"Of course I do. Only think of poor Laybold, with a letter of credit
for a hundred pounds on his hands! I'm thankful I haven't the
responsibility of spending so much money on my conscience. I should
apply for admission to the first lunatic asylum, if I had to spend so
much."
"Nonsense! I made up my mind not to give up my money," said the
coxswain. "That rule made plenty of rows on the other cruise, and I
expect the fellows on this cruise will be called upon to give up their
stamps very soon."
"I was going to say we could get even with the principal by spending
it all before we go on board again; but we are in Sweden, and it is
quite impossible. They won't let you pay more than seventy-five cents
or a dollar for a day's board in this country."
"You went to a sailor's boarding-house, Scott. When you are at a
first-class hotel, you will find that they bleed you enough."
"I hope they do better than the landlord where we staid last night; if
they don't I shall make money in Sweden. Why, they wouldn't even pick
our pockets when we were boozy on 'finkel.' I'm sure they are a great
deal more accommodating at sailors' boarding-houses in Boston and New
York."
"Come, be serious, Scott. Shall you give up your money when you return
to the ship?"
"Cheerfully, for there is no chance to get rid of it in this country."
"But you will want some in Russia, where everything is dear."
"I'm afraid my letter of credit will arrive by that time, and I shall
be burdened with new trials."
"Poor fellow!"
The old rule of the ship had not been enforced on the present cruise,
and the principal did not intend to renew it until it was absolutely
necessary. It had caused much complaint among the wealthy parents of
the former students, while it had wonderfully improved the discipline;
but Mr. Lowington consented to make the experiment of permitting every
boy to manage his own finances.
At noon the party took their places in a second-class compartment of
the carriage on the railway, and started for Wenersberg. Ole spoke
Swedish as well as Norwegian, and acted as interpreter. Sanford had
made peace with the waif, who was now as popular as ever with all the
party. Each of them, in turn, had tried to induce Ole to tell how he
happened to be in that boat at sea; but he still refused to explain.
The train moved off, and the tourists observed the country through
which it passed; but Scott could not help grumbling because the fare
was only about a dollar and a quarter for fifty miles, declaring that
he should never be able to get rid of his twenty sovereigns at this
rate, and that he was threatened with a letter of credit for a hundred
more at St. Petersburg. At Herrljunga, the junction of the branch to
Wenersberg and the main line, the guard insisted that the tourists
should leave the carriage.
"How's this, Ole?" asked Sanford.
"Change for Wenersberg; but the train don't start till five o'clock.
We must wait two hours."
"But what time does it get to Wenersberg?"
"About half past eight."
"That's a pretty go!" exclaimed the coxswain. "You made a beautiful
arrangement for this trip, Scott."
"What's the matter now?"
"We cannot get to Wenersberg till half past eight; and of course that
will be too late to join the ship's company there."
"It isn't necessary to join them there. We shall meet them on the way,
and go back with them. They will be at this place some time this
afternoon."
"What did we come up here for?" asked Sanford.
"In the first place, to get rid of four or five rix-bunkers; and in
the second, to see something of this part of Sweden. We have done
both, and ought to be satisfied."
"O, I'm satisfied!"
"You ought to be; you have four and a half bunkers less to spend. We
will loaf about this place till the principal comes with the crowd,
and when he sees what good boys we have been to look him up, and see
that he didn't get lost, he'll forgive Laybold and me for drinking
'finkel.'"
"All right. What time does the train leave for Gottenburg, Ole?" added
the coxswain, turning to the interpreter.
"Half past five," replied the waif.
No one took the trouble to examine the time-table in the
station-house, which, though in Swedish, was perfectly intelligible so
far as it related to hours and towns.
The tourists decided to improve the time they were obliged to wait
by taking a walk about the country, examining Swedish houses and
investigating Swedish agriculture. Doubtless this was a very
interesting amusement; but at quarter past five, the party returned to
the station. A long train was just departing in the direction of
Gottenburg.
"What train's that?" demanded Sanford.
"I don't know," replied Ole, with a look of alarm.
"Inquire, then," added the excited coxswain.
The party hastened into the little station. It was the regular train
for Gottenburg.
"But how's that?" cried Sanford. "You said it left at half past five."
"Yes; I looked at the time-table in Gottenburg, and it said half past
five," replied Ole. "Here is one, and I will look again."
"Better wait till morning before you look again," said Scott.
"Here it is; five--"
"That's all, Norway."
"I'm sure it was half past five in Gottenburg," pleaded Ole, whom the
coxswain had privately requested to make this blunder.
"What sort of chowder do you call this, son of Odin?" demanded Scott.
"He has made a blunder; that's all," laughed Burchmore, who, though
not in the confidence of the coxswain, at once suspected the trick,
and, to tell the truth, was not sorry for the mistake.
The mishap was discussed for an hour, and poor Ole was severely
blamed, especially by Sanford, for his carelessness; but he bore the
censure with becoming meekness.
"What's to be done?" inquired Scott, at last.
"Here's another train at 8.56," replied Ole, pointing to the
time-table. "We can return to Gottenburg in that."
"Right, Norway," added Scott.
They found a small hotel in the place, where they obtained a supper,
and at the time indicated returned to Gottenburg, where they arrived
at about one in the morning. It was too late to go on board of the
ship, and they went directly to the little hotel in the lane, where
Scott and Laybold had passed the preceding night. It was closed, but
they easily roused the landlord.
"So you have again come," said the good-natured host.
"Yes; we have again come. It is too late to go on board of the ship,"
replied Scott.
"Your ship have sail to-night to Copenhagen."
"No! Impossible!"
"I have seen her sail," persisted the landlord. "I have make no
mistake."
"We are dished!" exclaimed Sanford.
"The young gentleman come down at seven o'clock, and the ship have
sail at nine o'clock. I know it so well as I know how to speak the
English."
"It must be so, then," laughed Scott; "for you have spoke the English
more better as nice."
"What shall we do?" continued Sanford, who seemed to be positively
distressed at the unfortunate circumstance.
"Do? Go to bed, and go to sleep. What else can we do? You are too big
a boy to cry over your misfortunes," replied Scott.
"I don't intend to cry; but I feel very bad about it."
"Dry your tears," said Burchmore. "We may as well take a biscuit, turn
in, and call it half a day."
"But when will there be a steamer to Copenhagen?" asked Sanford.
"The Najaden must go Monday afternoon," answered the landlord, who,
for some reason best known to himself, did not deem it prudent to
mention the fact that the Kronprindsesse Louise would sail within half
an hour.
"This will never do," interposed Rodman. "We have been chasing the
ship now for a week, and by the time we get to Copenhagen she will be
gone. I move we go to Stockholm. We shall be sure to catch her there."
"Good!" exclaimed Wilde.
The proposition was fully discussed, and when a majority favored the
movement, the others, among whom was Sanford, yielded an apparently
reluctant assent. The Wadstena would start at two o'clock, and there
was not a moment to lose. The landlord was astonished at the decision,
and his hotel was not filled that night, as he intended it should be.
Just as the canal steamer was starting, the young tourists hurried on
board, and were soon on their way to Stockholm.
Not a quarter of a mile distant at this moment were Peaks and his
prisoner, and Blaine, the head steward, who was on the lookout for
them.