“Well, not shaken, I think,” owned the servant. “We were in a hurry, you see; but they are all fresh folded.”
“It might have slipped into one of them,” said Erica. “Help me to shake every one of these, and I will give you two gulden.”
It was hard work, and somewhat hopeless work; but Erica set about it with all the earnestness and thoroughness of her Raeburn nature, and at length came her reward. At the very bottom of the huge pile they came to a counterpane, and, as they opened it, out fell the large, thick envelope directed to Herr Hasenbalg. With a cry of joy, Erica snatched it up, pressed double the reward into the hands of the delighted servant, and flew in search of her father. She found him groping in a great heap of miscellaneous goods in the porter's room.
“I've found my razors,” he said, looking up, “and every twopenny-halfpenny thing out of my traveling bag; but the papers, of course, are nowhere.”
“What's your definition of 'nowhere'?” asked Erica, laughingly covering his eyes while she slipped the envelope into his hand.
His look of relief made her happier than she had been for days. He stood up quickly, and turned the envelope over to see that it had not been tampered with.
“This is my definition of a dear, good bairn,” he said, putting his hand on her head. “You have taken a hundred-weight off my heart, Eric. Where did you find it?”
She described her search to him.
“Well, now, nothing will satisfy me but a mountain,” said Raeburn. “Are you too tired? We could have a good climb before dinner.”
“Oh, let us!” she exclaimed. “I have had such a longing to get nearer the snow.”