Things however, were not so bad as they had anticipated; there was no steamer certainly, but Ullitz, who was lounging on the quay—where indeed the good man spent the greater part of his summer hours, looking out for travellers and seeking whom he might entertain, and who certainly did not approve of a change of plans which deprived him of a very profitable commissariat,—informed them that the day had been changed, and that the steamer would not arrive till the following evening, nor sail till the day after.
“Never mind,” said Birger, “let us have one good supper, and one comfortable night’s rest more than we expected; I will be bound we strike out something for to-morrow, and after all we shall lose nothing, we may as well be at Christiansand as at Gotheborg.”
Ullitz did not say, but looked as if he thought they had much better.
“The sea is as calm as glass,” said Torkel to Tom. “Would not this do for eider duck-hunting.”
“It is a great pity that Fröken Lota has to make up her stores of eider down now,” said Tom, “and she to be married in the autumn.”
Torkel could afford to laugh, for he knew very well—indeed, none had cause to know it better, he having supplied a good half of them—the extent of Miss Lota’s eider stores. All this was an aside, and Tom resumed aloud, “To be sure, there could not be better weather, we shall not have ripple out in the haaf[33] any more than in the fjord; and besides, we can take some cod-lines, and when we have killed or driven off the ducks we can fill our boats with rock cod.”
“What is all that?” said the Captain.
Tom explained.
“Upon my word I think it will do very well; what say you, Birger?”