The 16th and 17th passed, and still no Ole, nor did the postman bring
any letter from Newfoundland.

"There is no cause for anxiety, little sister," Joel said, again and
again. "A sailing-vessel is always subject to delays. It is a long
way from St. Pierre-Miquelon to Bergen. How I wish the 'Viking' were
a steamer and I the engine. How I would drive along against wind and
tide, even if I should burst my boiler on coming into port."

He said all this because he saw very plainly that Hulda's uneasiness
was increasing from day to day.

Just at this time, too, the weather was very bad in the Telemark.
Violent gales swept the high table-lands, and these winds, which blew
from the west, came from America.

"They ought to have hastened the arrival of the 'Viking,'" the young
girl repeated again and again.

"Yes, little sister," replied Joel; "but they are so strong that they
may have hindered its progress, and compelled it to face the gale.
People can't always do as they like upon the sea."

"So you are not uneasy, Joel?"

"No, Hulda, no. It is annoying, of course, but these delays are very
common. No; I am not uneasy, for there is really not the slightest
cause for anxiety."