THE CRUISE IN THE LITTLE STEAMER.
"What's the use, Stockwell?" said Sanford, as the absentees seated
themselves on the train for Malmoe, under the charge of the head
steward. "Blaine got his despatch from the principal last night, but
he didn't say a word to us till this morning. He's playing a sharp
game."
"That's so," replied Stockwell. "He don't mean to trust us out of
sight again."
"Don't say a word to any fellow," whispered the coxswain. "You and I
will fight it out on our own hook."
"I understand. It is plain enough that Blaine regards us as runaways,
and I suppose the principal will do the same."
"Very likely; and when we get to Russia, all we shall have to do will
be to count our fingers in the steerage, while the rest of the fellows
are seeing the Russians," continued Sanford, who now appeared to
regard "the independent excursion without running away" as a failure.
"We shall not even see anything more of Stockholm. I don't like the
idea."
"Well, what are you going to do about it?" asked Stockwell.
"At the first chance we will leave this train, and make our way back
to Stockholm," whispered Sanford. "There is a steamer to St.
Petersburg twice a week, and we have money enough to carry us
through."
"Right; I am with you."
"We will take Ole, if you like, to do the talking for us."
"I don't object."
The train stopped at Katherineholm about half past nine. The boys had
taken nothing but the Swedish early breakfast of coffee and a biscuit,
and the head steward allowed them to have a more substantial meal,
each paying for himself. They entered the restaurant, where, on a
large table in the centre of the room, were great dishes of broiled
salmon and veal cutlets, with high piles of plates near them. Each
passenger helped himself at these dishes, and then seated himself at
one of the little tables. When he had finished his salmon, he helped
himself to veal cutlets; beer and coffee were served by the waiters.
Sanford and Stockwell hurried through the meal, and went to the
counter where the woman received payment. She asked them some question
and they were obliged to call Ole, to know what she said. She asked if
they had had beer or coffee, which was extra, the meal being one and a
half rix dalers. She gave them a tin check; for at this place they
seemed to be sharper than the Swedes usually are, and the check was to
enable them to get out of the restaurant. A man at the door received
it, and no one was allowed to pass without it; and thus none could
leave without paying for the meal.
"Finished your breakfast, Ole?" said Sanford, carelessly.
"Yes; and that salmon was very good."
"First rate. Come with us, Ole," added the coxswain, as he led the way
out of the restaurant.
The trio entered the station, and as no one followed them, they left
by the front door. Dodging behind the buildings, they soon cleared the
station. Taking the public road, they walked for half an hour at a
rapid pace, and then halted to consider the situation. The train had
gone, for they had heard its departure; but whether Mr. Blaine had
gone or not was an open question.
"What next?" said Sanford, as he seated himself at the side of the
road.
"Take the train back to Stockholm," replied Stockwell.
"Perhaps Blaine did not go on, after he missed us."
"Of course he did. But whether he did or not, the train has gone, and
he cannot take us to Copenhagen. If we find him at the station, why,
we took a little walk, and lost the train, you know."
"That's played out," replied Sanford. "We have missed the train too
many times, already. What time does the next one return to Stockholm?"
"I don't know. Let's go back to the station."
This course was adopted, and on their arrival they learned that they
could return to Stockholm at half past two in the afternoon. The man
in charge said that the gentleman with the young men had been looking
for them. Sanford replied, through Ole, that they had lost the train,
but would return to Stockholm, and start again the next morning.
After dining in the restaurant, the runaways--as they certainly were
now, if not before--departed, and arrived at their destination in
about three hours. They immediately went to the office on the quay,
and learned that a steamer would leave for St. Petersburg at two
o'clock on Friday morning.
"Can we engage places now?" asked Sanford,--for the clerk in charge
spoke English.
"Certainly."
"We will take three places in one room," added the coxswain.
"Have you passports?" asked the clerk.
"No, sir."
"We cannot sell you tickets then."
"Not without passports?" exclaimed Sanford, appalled at this new
difficulty.
"No; and passports must be _vise_ by the Russian consul before we can
issue a ticket."
"We are down then," added the coxswain. "My passport is on board of
the ship."
"So is mine," added Stockwell.
"And I never had any," said Ole.
The party left the steamer's office, and were unable to devise any
means of overcoming the obstacle. They went to the Hotel Rydberg
again, and consulted the porter, who had been very kind to them
before. This functionary is entirely different in European hotels
from those of the same name in the United States. He stands at the
entrance, usually dressed in uniform, to answer all inquiries of
guests, and to do all that is required of the clerks in American
hotels. He assured the anxious inquirers that, even if they got into
Russia, their passports would be immediately demanded, and that no one
could remain in any city there over night without one. The American
minister in Stockholm would give them the required documents.
"But Ole, here, is a Norwegian," suggested Sanford.
"No matter. Have him put into your passport as your courier or
servant."
"All right; we will see him to-morrow," replied the coxswain; and the
problem seemed to be solved.
The next day they went to the American legation, but the minister had
gone to Upsala for a week, and the secretary declined to issue the
passports, because the boys could not prove that they were citizens of
the United States. Vexed and discouraged, they wandered about the city
till Friday noon, when an English steamer came into port. They stood
on the quay, watching the movements of the passengers as they landed.
They had almost concluded to take a steamer to Stettin, Luebeck, or
some other port in Germany; but Russia was a strange land, and they
were not willing to abandon the idea of seeing its sights.
"I wonder whether this steamer goes any farther," said Stockwell.
"I don't know," added Sanford.
"Perhaps she goes to St. Petersburg. It may be her officers are not so
particular about the confounded passports."
"But you can't stay in Russia over night without one, even if you get
there."
"The American minister will fit us out with them. I expect to find a
letter of credit in St. Petersburg, and that will prove that I am an
American."
"Let us go on board of the steamer and ascertain where she is going,"
continued Sanford, as he led the way across the plank, which had been
extended from the deck to the stone pier.
The boys went upon the hurricane deck, where they had seen an officer
who looked as though he might be the captain.
"Do you go to St. Petersburg, captain?" asked the coxswain.
"No; we return to London, touching only at Copenhagen," replied the
officer.
"That's too bad!" exclaimed Stockwell.
"So it is," said a tall man, who had followed the runaways up the
steps from the lower deck. "But you are not going to St. Petersburg
without the rest of us--are you?"
Sanford was startled, and turning sharp around, saw Peaks, who had
come out of the cabin as the boys stepped on board. He had followed
them to the hurricane deck, and suspecting that something was wrong,
he had waited till the coxswain's question betrayed their intention.
"No, we are not going to St. Petersburg; we are waiting for the ship,"
replied Sanford, recovering his self-possession in an instant.
"O, you are? All right, then. But the last I heard of you was, that
you were all on your way to Copenhagen to join the ship," added the
boatswain.
"So we were, Mr. Peaks; but after we had taken breakfast at a station
on the railroad, we went to have a little walk, and see something of
the country. We thought we had time enough, but the train--confound
it!--went off without us. We were terribly provoked, but we couldn't
help ourselves, you know; so we made our way back to this city."
"I think you must have been very badly provoked," said Peaks.
"O, we were,--honor bright."
"But you thought you would go over to St. Petersburg before the ship
arrived?"
"Certainly not; we had no idea of going to St. Petersburg."
"And that's the reason you asked whether this steamer was going
there,--because you hadn't any idea of going."
"We know very well that we can't go to St. Petersburg without our
passports, which are on board of the ship," protested Sanford.
"Yes, I understand; but who is this?" asked Peaks, as he glanced at
Ole.
"That's Ole Amundsen; don't you remember him?"
"I think I do. And he is on a lark with you."
"We are not on a lark. We have been trying with all our might to find
the ship, for the last fortnight; and we are bound to do so, or die in
the attempt," said Stockwell.
"And Ole has been with you all the time?"
"Yes, sir; we couldn't have done anything without him."
"And would have been on board the ship long ago, if you hadn't had
him to speak the lingo for you."
"When we tell you our story, you will see that we have done our best
to find the ship."
"I don't know that I care to hear any more of your story; it's too
much story for me, and you can tell it to Mr. Lowington, who will be
here by to-morrow, I think. Very likely you can take me to a good
hotel."
"Yes, sir; we are staying at the Hotel Rydberg, which is the best in
Stockholm."
"Heave ahead, then."
The runaways led the way.
"Do you talk the Swedish lingo, Ole?" asked the boatswain.
"Yes, sir."
"Where did you stow yourself, when we went into Christiansand?"
"In the second cutter, sir," replied the waif, laughing.
"Exactly so; you were to go with her crew when they left."
"No, sir; I didn't know a single one of them."
"What did you hide for, then?"
"Because I didn't want the pilot to see me."
"Why not?" asked the boatswain.
But this was as far as Ole would go in that direction. Neither man nor
boy could extort from him the secret he so persistently retained. A
short walk brought the party to the Hotel Rydberg.
"This gentleman wants a room," said Sanford to the porter.
"No. 29," said the man, calling a servant. "Did you get your
passports, young men?"
Sanford drew back, and made energetic signs to the porter to keep
still; but the official failed to understand him.
"No; they haven't got them yet," replied Peaks. "The fact is, all the
passports are on board the ship."
"But the young gentlemen were very anxious to obtain new ones, so that
they could go to St. Petersburg. They intended to leave by this
morning's steamer, but no tickets can be had without passports."
Both Sanford and Stockwell shook their heads to the stupid porter, who
was remarkably intelligent on all other points; but somehow he did not
see them, or could not comprehend them.
"It's too bad about those passports--isn't it, my lads?" laughed
Peaks, turning to the runaways. "Here's more proof that you hadn't the
least idea of going to St. Petersburg."
"I was very sorry for the young gentlemen, and did the best I could
for them," added the gentlemanly porter.
"No doubt you did; and I'm very much obliged to you for the trouble
you took," replied the good-natured boatswain.
"No. 29, sir?" interposed the servant, with the key in his hand.
"Ay, ay, my hearty. But, young gentlemen, I want to save you from any
more terrible disappointments and awful vexations in finding the ship.
I'm going up to my bunk, and if I don't find you here when I come
down, I shall call on the American consul, and ask him to put the
police on your track. You shall find the ship this time, or perish in
the attempt, sure."
"Here's a go!" exclaimed Stockwell, as the servant conducted the
boatswain up the stairs to his chamber.
"What did you say anything to him about the passports for?" snapped
Sanford to the porter.
The official in uniform by this time understood the matter, and
apologized, promising to make it all right with the tall gentleman,
and to swear that not a word had been said to him or any one else
about passports. It was his business to please everybody, and his
perquisites depended upon his skill in doing so.
"What did Peaks mean about police?" said Sanford, as the trio seated
themselves near the front door of the hotel.
"He means what he says; confound him, he always does!" replied
Stockwell. "He intends to treat us as runaway seamen, and have us
arrested if we attempt to leave."
"We are trapped," muttered Sanford. "What's Peaks doing up here?"
"I don't know, unless he is looking for us."
"It makes no difference now. We are caught, and we may as well make
the best of it."
"It's all up with us," added the coxswain. "Peaks knows what he is
about, and there isn't much chance of getting the weather-gage of
him."
The boatswain came down in a short time. He was cool and good-natured,
and knew exactly how to deal with the parties in hand.
"Now, young gentlemen, if you are going to Russia, don't let me
detain you. If you wish to go any where else, I shall not meddle
myself. I shall let the American consul attend to the matter. I have
business here, and I can't keep an eye on you. But if you want to be
fair and square, and not break your hearts because you can't find the
ship, just be in sight when I want to know where you are."
"We shall be right on your heels all the time, Mr. Peaks. If you don't
object, we will go with you. We know the way round Stockholm, and will
help you all we can," said Stockwell.
"That's sensible."
"We will show you out to the Djurgarden," added Sanford.
"Never mind the shows. I want Ole to talk for me, and I don't object
to your company," replied the boatswain.
"I beg your pardon, sir," said the porter, presenting himself to Peaks
at this moment. "I made a bad mistake. It was not these young
gentlemen who wanted the passports. It was another party."
"Exactly. I understand," replied the boatswain, turning to the boys
with a significant smile on his bronzed face.
"They were waiting for you, and were very anxious to join their ship."
"It was very kind of them to wait for me, when they hadn't the least
idea I was coming. All right, my hearty; you needn't trouble yourself
to smooth it over. How much did you pay him for those lies, Sanford?"
"Not a cent, sir!"
"Never mind; don't bother your heads any more about it. I understand
the matter now as well as I shall after you have explained it for a
week," answered Peaks, as he left the hotel, followed by the
discomfited trio.
The boatswain did not deem it expedient to explain to them his
business in Stockholm. He found people enough who spoke English, so
that he was able to dispense with the services of Ole as interpreter.
He ascertained that no such vessel as the Rensdyr had yet arrived, and
satisfied with this information, he went out to the Djurgarden with
his charge, dined at Hasselbacken, and made himself quite comfortable.
After breakfast the next morning, with Ole's assistance, he chartered
one of the little steamers, which was about the size of the ship's
second cutter, and, taking the trio with him, sailed out towards the
Baltic.
"Where are you going, Mr. Peaks?" asked Sanford, deeply mystified by
the movements of the boatswain.
"I'm going to make a trip down to the Baltic, to see what I can see,"
replied Peaks.
"Are you going for the fun of it?"
"Well, that depends upon how you view it. I suppose you are going for
the fun of it, whether I am or not."
"But we would like to know what is up," added Sanford.
"Young gentlemen should not be inquisitive," laughed the old salt.
"Because, if you are going out to meet the ship, in order to put us on
board--"
"I'm not going for any such purpose," interposed the boatswain. "I
shouldn't take all that trouble on your account."
"But where are you going?"
"That's my affair, my lad."
"We don't mean to give you any trouble on our account," said Sanford,
who could not readily dispossess himself of the belief that the
expedition was to put his party on board of the ship when she hove in
sight.
"Of course you don't, my tender lambs. You have been so anxious to
find the ship, and get on board, it would be cruel to suspect you of
any mischief," laughed Peaks.
"But, honor bright, Mr. Peaks, whatever we intended, we are ready now
to do just what you say, and return to the ship as soon as we can."
"You are all nice boys. You have had a good time, and I think you
ought to be satisfied."
"We are satisfied; but I suppose we shall have no liberty again, after
we go on board."
"Perhaps you will; the principal isn't hard with the boys when they
come right square up to the mark; but you can't humbug him."
"But, honestly, Mr. Peaks, we tried to find the ship, and--"
"There, there, lads," interposed the boatswain, "I don't believe you
will have any liberty."
"Why not?"
"Because you want to humbug the principal; and me, too--but that's no
account. If you want to make the best of it, toe the mark. Don't have
any lies in your heart or on your tongue. Tell the whole truth, and
you will make more by it; but tell the truth whether you make anything
or not."
"You won't believe anything we say," protested Sanford.
"Of course I won't, when you are lying. I call things by their right
names."
"We didn't stave the boat at Christiansand."
"Yes, you did," replied Peaks, plumply.
"If you think so, it's no use talking."
"Certainly not; don't talk, then."
Sanford was not prepared for so grave a charge as that of causing the
accident to the second cutter; and if the principal was of the same
mind as the boatswain, the case would go hard with the runaways. The
coxswain and Stockwell went into the bow of the little steamer to
discuss their situation, which they did very earnestly for a couple of
hours.
"There's the ship!" exclaimed Sanford, as he identified the Young
America, half a mile distant, leading the squadron into the harbor of
Stockholm.
"So it is; now we are in for it. Peaks has come out here with us to
make sure that we don't get away from him," added Stockwell.
"If I had known as much last night as I know now, I would have cleared
out, in spite of consul and police. If we are to be charged with
smashing the second cutter, we shall not go on shore again this
summer."
"That's so. But this boat is not headed for the ship. Peaks don't see
her."
"Yes, he does; there isn't a craft of any sort within five miles of us
that he don't see."
"There's the ship, Mr. Peaks," shouted Stockwell.
"I see her."
But the boatswain continued on his course, paying no attention to the
ship. The squadron disappeared among the islands, and the steamer went
out into the Baltic, keeping well in towards the shore. When any small
schooner appeared, he ran up and examined her very carefully,
overhauling three in this manner in the course of the forenoon. At
noon the boatswain piped all hands to dinner, for he had procured a
supply of provisions at the hotel. Though he had chartered the steamer
with Ole acting as an interpreter, he gave no hint of his plans or
purposes. He made signs to the helmsman where to go, and occasionally
gave directions through Ole.
The fourth small schooner that he examined proved to be the Rensdyr,
and Peaks identified her by seeing Clyde Blacklock, who stood on the
forecastle, looking out for the approaches to Stockholm. Possibly he
had seen the Young America, which passed the schooner, though a mile
distant.
"Lay her alongside that small vessel," said Peaks to Ole.
"That one!" exclaimed Ole, whose brown face seemed to grow pale, as he
looked at the Rensdyr.
"That's what I say, my lad."
The waif actually trembled; but he spoke to the helmsman, who
immediately put the boat about, and headed her towards Stockholm.
"No," said Peaks, sternly. "That vessel."
He pointed to her, and Ole spoke again to the steersman, but without
any better result. The boatswain was not to be thwarted. Going
forward, he took the little wheel into his own hands, and headed the
steamer towards the Rensdyr. Indicating by his signs what he wanted,
the man at the helm seemed to be quite willing to obey orders when he
knew what was wanted.
"Don't go to that vessel, Mr. Peaks," cried Ole, in an agony of
terror.
"Why, my lad, what's the matter with you?"
"That's the Rensdyr!"
"I know it."
"He will kill me," groaned Ole.
"Who will?"
"Captain Olaf."
"Well, who's he?"
"He is the captain of the Rensdyr. He will kill me."
"No, he won't, my hearty. You shall have fair play. Who is he?"
"My step-father, Olaf Petersen. He beat me and starved me, and I ran
away from the Rensdyr in the boat."
"O, ho! The story is out--is it?"
"That's the whole truth, sir; it is, Mr. Peaks," protested Ole. "Don't
go to her!"
"Don't you be alarmed. You shall have fair play," added the stout
boatswain, as the steamer ran alongside the schooner, and the man at
the bow made her fast.
[Illustration: BOARDING THE RENSDYR. Page 344.]
Peaks was on her deck in another instant, and had Clyde by the collar.
"I want you, my lad," said he.
"Let me alone!" cried the Briton, who had not recognized his tyrant
till he was in his grasp, for the simple reason that he did not expect
to see him at that time and place.
"No use to kick or yell, my jolly Briton. I never let go," added the
boatswain.
At this moment there was a yell from the steamer. Captain Olaf no
sooner discovered his lost step-son, than he sprang upon him like a
tiger. Ole howled in his terror. Peaks dragged Clyde on board the
steamer, and tossing him on the seat at the stern, turned his
attention to the skipper of the schooner.
"Steady! hold up, my hearty," said he, pulling the old Norwegian from
his prey.
"My boy! My son! He steal my boat, and leave me," said Olaf,
furiously.
"He says you didn't treat him well; that you starved and beat him."
"I'll bet Ole told the truth," interposed Clyde, who seemed suddenly
to have laid aside his wrath. "Captain Olaf is a brute."
"How's that, my lad? Do you know anything about it?" asked Peaks.
"I know the skipper is the ugliest man I ever met in my life,"
answered Clyde.
"Won't you except me, my bold Briton?"
"No; I paid my passage, and haven't had enough to eat to keep soul and
body together. Besides that, he tried to make me work, and I did do
some things. If I had been obliged to stay on board another day, I
should have jumped overboard," continued Clyde. "I begin to think I
was a fool for leaving the ship."
"I began to think so at the first of it," added Peaks.
"Ole is my son; I must have him," growled the skipper.
"I have nothing to do with Ole; he may go where he pleases," said the
boatswain.
Olaf spoke to his step-son in his own language, and for a few moments
the dialogue between them was very violent.
"Cast off, forward, there; give them the Swedish of that, Ole,"
shouted Peaks.
"Must I go on board of the Rensdyr?" asked the trembling waif.
"Do just as you please."
"Then I shall stay, and go to the ship."
"No, he shall not; he shall come with me," said Olaf, making a spring
at Ole.
But Peaks, who had promised to see fair play, interfered, and with no
more force than was necessary, compelled the skipper to return to the
schooner. The steamer shoved off, and amid the fierce yells of Olaf,
steamed towards Stockholm. As she went on her way, Ole told his story.
At the death of his father, who was the master of a small vessel, he
had gone to England with a gentleman who had taken a fancy to him, and
worked there a year. The next summer he had accompanied his employer
in an excursion through Norway, and found his mother had married Olaf
Petersen. She prevailed upon him to leave his master, and he went to
sea with her husband. Then his mother died, and the skipper abused
him to such a degree, that he determined to leave the vessel. Olaf had
twice brought him back, and then watched him so closely, that he could
find no opportunity to repeat the attempt when the Rensdyr was in
port.
On the day before the ship had picked him up, Olaf had thrashed him
soundly, and had refused to let him have his supper. Olaf and his man
drank too much finkel that night, and left Ole at the helm. Early in
the evening, he lashed the tiller, and taking to the boat, with the
north star for his guide, pulled towards the coast of Norway. Before
morning he was exhausted with hunger and fatigue. He had lost one oar
while asleep, and the other was a broken one. At daylight he saw
nothing of the Rensdyr, and feeling tolerably safe, had gone to sleep
again, when he was awakened by the hail from the ship.
"But why did you leave the ship?" asked Peaks.
"Because I was afraid of the pilot. I thought he and other people
would make me go back to Olaf."
"Olaf has no claim upon you. He is neither your father nor your
guardian."
"I was afraid."
"Where was your vessel bound?"
"To Bremen, where she expected to get a cargo for Copenhagen. I
suppose she found another cargo there for Stockholm."
"I don't blame you, Ole, for leaving him," said Clyde. "Olaf is the
worst man I ever saw. When he got drunk, he abused me and the men. I
had to keep out of his way, or I believe he would have killed me,
though I was a passenger, and paid my fare."
At three o'clock in the afternoon, the little steamer ran alongside
the ship, and the party went on board, though the principal and all
the officers and crew were on shore.