Poor Ole!  What did he say in this letter?  Doubtless that he loved Hulda as faithfully and truly as Hulda loved him, that they were united in thought, in spite of the distance that separated them, and that he longed for the day of his return to Dal.

Yes, he said all this, Hulda was sure of it.  But perhaps he might add that the day of his return was near at hand—­that the fishing cruise which had enticed the inhabitants of Bergen so far from their native land, was nearly at an end.  Perhaps Ole would tell her that the “Viking” had finished taking aboard her cargo, that she was about to sail, and that the last days of April would not pass without a blissful meeting in the pleasant home at Vesfjorddal.  Perhaps, too, he would assure her, at last, that she might safely appoint the day for the pastor to come to Moel to unite them in the little chapel whose steeple rose from a small grove not a hundred yards from Dame Hansen’s inn.

To learn all this, it might only be necessary to break the seal, draw out Ole’s letter, and read it, through the tears of joy or sorrow that its contents would be sure to bring to Hulda’s eyes, and doubtless more than one impatient girl of the south, or even of Denmark or Holland, would already have known all!  But Hulda was in a sort of a dream, and dreams terminate only when God chooses to end them, and how often one regrets them, so bitter is the reality.

“Is it really a letter from Ole that your brother has sent you, my daughter?” inquired Dame Hansen.

“Yes; I recognize the handwriting.”

“Well, are you going to wait until to-morrow to read it?”

Hulda took one more look at the envelope, then, after slowly breaking the seal, she drew out the carefully written letter, which read as follows: 

    “Saint-Pierre-Miquelon, March 17th, 1862.

“My Dearest Hulda,—­You will hear, with pleasure, that our fishing venture has prospered, and that it will be concluded in a few days.  Yes; we are nearing the end of the season, and after a year’s absence how glad I shall be to return to Dal and find myself in the midst of the only friends I have in the world—­yours and mine.

“My share in the profits of the expedition amounts to quite a handsome sum, which will start us in housekeeping.  Messrs. Help Bros., the owners of the ship, have been informed that the ‘Viking’ will probably return by the 15th or 20th of May; so you may expect to see me at that time; that is to say, in a few weeks at the very longest.

“My dear Hulda, I trust to find you looking even prettier than at my departure, and in the best of health, you and your mother as well, also that hardy, brave comrade, my cousin Joel, your brother, who asks nothing better than to become mine.

“On receipt of this, give my very best respects to Dame Hansen—­I can see her now, sitting in her wooden arm-chair by the