Book 2 The Land of Mockery Chapter 30

"Honor is an old-world thing, but it smells sweet to those in whose hand it is strong."--OUIDA.

Disappointment upon disappointment awaited Errington at Hull. Unfortunately, neither he nor Britta knew of the existence of the good Norwegian innkeeper, Friedhof, who had assisted Thelma in her flight--and all their persistent and anxious inquiries elicited no news of her. Moreover, there was no boat of any kind leaving immediately for Norway--not even a whaler or fishing-smack. In a week's time,--possibly later,--there would be a steamer starting for Christiansund, and for this, Errington, though almost mad with impatience, was forced to wait. And in the meantime, he roamed about the streets of Hull, looking eagerly at every fair-haired woman who passed him, and always hoping that Thelma herself would suddenly meet him face to face, and put her hands in his. He wrote to Neville and told him to send on any letters that might arrive for him, and by every post he waited anxiously for one from Thelma but none came. To relieve his mind a little, he scribbled a long letter to her, explaining everything, telling her how ardently he loved and worshipped her--how he was on his way to join her at the Altenfjord,--and ending by the most passionate vows of unchanging love and fidelity. He was somewhat soothed when he had done this--though he did not realize the fact that in all probability he himself might arrive before the letter. The slow, miserable days went on--the week was completed--the steamer for Christiansund started at last,--and, after a terribly stormy passage, he and the faithful Britta were landed there.