Fritz and Eric Part 50

There being no object to be gained by the vessel remaining any length of time at the island--which indeed was the reason that the skipper had not brought the _Pilot's Bride_ to anchor, preferring to ply on and on in front of the bay, so as to be ready for an instant start--the little property of the brothers was, without further delay, taken on board; and then, crusoes now no longer, they bade adieu, a long adieu, to Inaccessible Island, their abiding place for the past two years.

As the _Pilot's Bride_ filled her sails and cleared the headlands, which, stretching their giant arms across the entrance to the little bay, soon shut out all view of the valley from their gaze, the last thing they noticed was their hut, the home of so many long and weary months, blazing away in regular bonfire fashion. Master Eric had put a match to the thatch of the little edifice on crossing its threshold for the last time!

"There's no fear, however, of this bonfire doing as much mischief as the last, old fellow!" he said apologetically to Fritz as they gazed back over the ship's stern at the rapidly receding island.

"No," replied the other. "It won't do any particular harm, it is true; but still, I think it was a pity to burn down our little home. We have pa.s.sed many pleasant as well as sad hours there, you know, during the last two years."

"That may be all very true, brother," replied Eric, "but do you know what was my real reason for setting fire to it?"

"No," said Fritz.

"Well then I'll tell you," continued the other. "I couldn't bear to think that those cheeky penguins should invade it and perhaps make their nests there after we were gone!"

"What?" exclaimed Fritz, beginning to laugh. "You don't mean to say you haven't forgiven the poor birds yet for--"

"Stop!" cried Eric, interrupting him. "You know what you agreed to, eh?

Let bye-gones be bye-gones!"

"Good," said Fritz; and there ended the matter.

The return voyage of the _Pilot's Bride_ back to America was uneventful, although full enough of incident to the brothers after their enforced exile; but when the vessel arrived again at her old home port of Providence in Rhode Island, of course the two had something more to excite them in the greeting they received from the cheery and kindly- hearted family of the good old skipper at the shanty on the bay.

The worthy dame, Mrs Brown, welcomed them like sons of her own; while, Miss Celia--declared that Eric had grown quite a man--adding, with a toss of her head, that she "guessed he'd lost nothing of his old impudence!"

However, in spite of all the kindness and hospitality of these good people, Fritz and Eric were both too anxious to get home to Lubeck to prolong their stay in the States any longer than was absolutely necessary; so, as soon as the worthy skipper had managed to convert their stock of sealskins and oil into hard cash--getting the weighty and old-fashioned doubloons exchanged for a valuable banker's draft, save one or two which they kept for curiosity's sake--the pair were off and away again on their way back to Europe by the next--starting North German steamer from New York.

Before setting out, however, Eric promised to return to Providence ere the following "fall," in time to resume his post of third mate of the _Pilot's Bride_ before she started again on another whaling voyage to the southern seas.

One more scene, and the story of "The Brother Crusoes" will be "as a tale that is told!"

It is Christmas Eve again at Lubeck.

The streets as well as the roofs and exteriors of the houses are covered with snow, exhibiting without every appearance of a hard winter; while, within, the interiors are filled with bustling folk, busy with all the myriad and manifold preparations for the coming festival on the morrow.

Mirth, music, and merry-making are everywhere apparent.

In the little old-fashioned house in the Gulden Stra.s.se, where Fritz and Eric were first introduced to the readers notice, these cheery signs of the festive season are even more prominently displayed than usual; for, are not the long-absent wanderers expected back beneath the old roof- tree once more, and is not their coming antic.i.p.ated at every hour--nay, almost at any moment?

Aye!

Madame Dort is sitting in her accustomed corner of the stove. She is looking ever so much better in health and younger in appearance than she was at the time of that sad celebration of the Christmas anniversary three years ago, detailed in an early chapter of the story; and there is a smile of happiness and content beaming over her face.

The good lady of the house is pretending to be darning a pair of stockings, which she has taken up to keep her fingers busy; but every now and then, she lets the work drop from her hands on to her knees, and looks round the room, as if listening and waiting for some one who will soon be here.

Madaleine, prettier than ever, clad in a gala dress and with bright ribbons in her golden hair, while her rosebud lips are half parted and her blue eyes dancing with joy and excitement, is pacing up and down the room impatiently. She is too eager to sit still!

Mouser, our old friend the cat, is curled up in a round ball between Gelert's paws on the rug in front of the stove; while, as for Lorischen, she is bustling in and out of the room, placing things on the well- spread table and then immediately taking them away again, quite forgetful of what she is about in her absence of mind and anxiety of expectancy.

Burgher Jans, too, now and again, keeps popping his head through the doorway, to ask if "the high, well-born and n.o.ble Herren" have yet come--the little fat man then retiring, with an humble apology for intruding, only to intrude again the next instant!

Madame Dort had received, late that afternoon, a telegram from Fritz, stating that he had reached Bremerhaven; and that he and Eric were just going to take the train, hoping to be with them in Lubeck ere nightfall.

Cause enough, is there not, for all this excitement and expectancy in the household?

Presently, a party of singers pa.s.s down the street, singing a plaintive Volkslieder, that sounds, oh so tender and touching in the frosty evening air; and then, suddenly, there is a sound of footsteps crunching the snow on the outside stairway.

Gelert, shaking off poor Mouser's fraternal embrace most unceremoniously, starts up with a growl, rushing the moment afterwards with a whine and yelp of joy to the rapidly thrown open door; and, here he jumps affectionately up upon a stalwart, bearded individual who enters, trying to lick his face in welcome.

"Fritz!" cries Madaleine.

"Eric!" echoes the mother, the same instant.

"Madaleine!" bursts forth from Fritz's lips; while Eric, close behind, cries out joyously, "Mother--mutterchen--dear little mother mine!"

The long-expected meeting is over, and the "Brother Crusoes" are safe at home again.

Little remains to be told.

Early in the new year, when winter had given place to spring and the earth was budding forth into fresh life, Fritz and Madaleine were married. The happy pair live on still with good Madame Dort in the little house of the Gulden Stra.s.se as of yore; for, Fritz has settled down into the old groove he occupied before the war, having gone back to rejoin his former employer, Herr Grosschnapper--although, mind you, instead of being only a mere clerk and book-keeper, he is now a partner in the shipbroker's business:-- the little capital which he and Eric gained in their sealing venture to Inaccessible Island, and which Fritz has invested in the concern in their joint names, is amply sufficient to make him a co-proprietor instead of occupying a subordinate position.

And Eric?

Well, the lad is doing well enough.

He went back to Providence at the end of the following summer, as he had promised; and, having joined the _Pilot's Bride_, and sailed in her since, he is now first officer of that staunch old ship--which the fates will that our old friend the Yankee skipper shall still command.

The last news from Rhode Island, however, records a rumour anent a "splice," to use the nautical phrase, between Master Eric and Miss Celia Brown; and report has it that when this matrimonial engagement is effected "the old man" has announced his intention of giving over his dearly beloved vessel to the entire charge of his son-in-law.

Still, this has not happened yet--Master Eric being yet too young for such honours.

Lorischen and Burgher Jans, strange to say, did not make a match of it after all, the fickle-minded old nurse backing out of the bargain instead of holding to her promise after the arrival of her young masters at home.

Gelert is yet to the fore, and as good and brave an old dog as ever, albeit time has robbed him of some of his teeth and made him somewhat less active; but as for Mouser, he does not seem to have "turned a hair." The highly intelligent animal still purrs and fizzes as vigourously as in his youth--occupying his leisure moments, when not after birds or mice, in basking in the sunshine on the window-ledge above the staircase in summer; while, in winter, he curls himself up between Gelert's outstretched paws on the hearthrug, in front of the old-fashioned china stove.

The brothers must have the last word; and, here a little sermon must come in.

Do you know, if you should ask them their candid opinion, they would tell you that, although the idea of playing at Robinson Crusoe may seem pleasant enough to those whose only experience of life on a desert island is derived from what they have read about its romantic features in books, persons, like themselves, who know what the real thing is, could narrate a very different story concerning its haps and mishaps, its deadly monotony and dreary solitude, its hopes and its despair!

THE END.