“In ten minutes,” cried Eric, gayly: “mamma did all my packing before she left. I’ve only to tumble a few things into my travelling-bag, and to feed myself and Froll.”
“The little monkey? I’ve made her acquaintance. We’re quite good friends.”
“Uncle John, if you haven’t seen the doctor or Johnny, how did you find me?” said Eric, who had been puzzling himself with this question for some time.
“Entirely by accident,” replied his uncle. “I arrived here about two hours since, and, finding all your names on the register, supposed I had stepped right into a family party; but then I learned that your father and mother, and that bundle of mischief called Nettie, had gone home, and that Mynheer Eric had gone to Amsteldamme to explore the mysteries of the bottom of the sea. I was so frightened that if there had been a chance of hitting you, I should have gone directly after you.”
“I wish you had,” said Eric, “in time to have gone down into the water.”
Mr. Van Rasseulger, for all his talk about Eric’s expedition, was heartily pleased with his brave little nephew, and was thinking to himself such an honest, energetic, courageous boy would make his way well in the world.
Eric had no idea that he was a particularly interesting boy. He was large and strong for his age, easy in his manners, and had a frank, joyous countenance, surmounted by thick, brown, curly hair. His eyes were very honest eyes indeed, often opening wide in a surprised way, when they saw anything not quite right, and blazing and flashing upon the aggressor when they witnessed wrong, cruelty, or injustice. He had been brought up upon the creed, “First of all, do right; and be a gentleman.” And being thoughtful, careful, and obedient, he was trusted and respected as few boys of his age rarely deserve to be.
Of course he had his faults. No young lad is without them. But the difference between Eric and other boys was, that when he became conscious of a fault in his character, he immediately set about overcoming it, and therefore soon got rid of it. But he was obliged to keep a very careful watch over himself, for little faults creep into one’s character faster than the little weeds spring up in the flower garden, and, like the weeds, too, if at once removed are almost harmless, but if allowed to spread and flourish they soon spoil the entire character, as the weeds spoil the garden.
While we have been moralizing, Eric has eaten his supper, neatly packed up the few things left about, and, with Froll and his travelling-bag, starts from the Vyverberg for Paris.
A very common-looking steamboat took them to Antwerp. There is not much to relate of their journey, for Eric’s adventures had so tired him that he slept all the way, only awakening to take the cars at Antwerp, and rousing once again to know they were passing through Brussels, and to hear his uncle say that the finest altar in the world was in the cathedral there. They arrived at Paris about noon of the next day, and, after considerable trouble, found that Dr. Ward had taken rooms in a hotel in the Place Vendôme, whither they at once repaired.