“Yes, it is; you can bet your life upon it.”

“I am satisfied then.”

In another hour the steamer was fairly in the fjord; Sanford and Stockwell began to rub their eyes; for the scenery looked strangely familiar, though they could not fully identify anything.

“What place is that ahead?” asked Sanford. “I am almost sure I have seen it before.”

“So am I,” replied Stockwell.

“That place?” added the cashier.

“Yes; what is it?”

“If this is Christiania Fjord, that must be Dröbak. I have a map here,” said Burchmore, producing his book, and displaying the map. “Here we are; there’s Holmsbo, and this must be Dröbak.”

“I don’t understand it,” replied the perplexed coxswain.

“Don’t you? Why, I think it is as clear as mud,” laughed Burchmore. “We shall be in Christiania in a couple of hours. I thought you were playing some trick upon us, Sanford; but I see now that you were all right. There’s the captain; he speaks English.”