That tone made Arne want to mend matters, and he hurried on, “I didn’t know you’d be interested, but I guess you are. So I want to tell you why I was late this noon. Bergel didn’t know about that. I saw a ship way out in the storm and I thought it might be Gustav’s. And from Uncle Jens’s saeter I could still see the lights of a ship a good ways out.”
“I see,” Herr Engstrand said again. But this time his tone was quite different. “A ship would have a hard time making port in a sea like this.”
Arne looked up at him in alarm. “Oh, Herr Professor Engstrand!” he exclaimed. “Do you suppose—what if Gustav’s ship got nearly home only to be dashed to pieces on the rocks?”
“Of course the chances are it was not the Stjerne at all,” said Herr Engstrand. His voice was thoughtful.
“Oh, I wish that wind would go down,” said Arne fervently. “There aren’t even any stars out, now.”
“Well, Arne, these Norwegian skippers know our coast pretty well, don’t forget that. And from what I hear, Captain Olsen is a fine navigator. Come, Bergel is blowing the horn again. That is the signal for supper.”
Arne gathered with the others around the great fire piled high in the kitchen fireplace. Froken Utvig and the girls had scrubbed a long table, laid a bright cloth over it, and spread it with gaily-decorated sandwiches and cakes. Everyone was hungry and ready for the good food and the singing.
There were Christmas songs first, and folk songs followed. Then everyone stood to sing the national anthem:
“Yes, we love with fond devotion
Norway’s mountain domes,