try a glass?
What they have given me is excellent."

Browne thanked him, but declined. He did not like finding the man in
the hotel; but as things were, he could not see that he had any right
to complain. He only hoped that Maas knew nothing of his reason for
being there. Conversant, however, as he was with his friend's
peculiarities, he felt certain he would say nothing about it to any
one, even supposing that he had discovered it.

Leaving the hotel together, they made their way down to the boat, and
in something less than a quarter of an hour were on board the yacht
once more. The fog still continued, nor did it lift for the remainder
of the day.

On the following morning they had arranged to leave Merok for Aalsund,
and thence to turn south on their homeward journey. Fortunately the
weather had cleared sufficiently by the time day dawned to admit of
their departure, and accordingly at the appointed hour, dipping her
ensign to the village in token of farewell, the yacht swung round and
headed for the pass under the Pulpit Rock. Browne was on the bridge at
the time, and it was with a sensible feeling of regret that he bade
farewell to the little village nestling at the foot of the snow-capped
mountains. Never did he remember having experienced such regret in
leaving a place before. Whether he and Katherine Petrovitch would ever
meet again was more than he could tell; it seemed to him extremely
unlikely, and yet---- But at this juncture he shook his head very
wisely at the receding mountains, and told himself that that was a
question which only Fate could decide.

CHAPTER III

Six months had elapsed since the _Lotus Blossom_ had steamed out of the
Gieranger Fjord and its owner had taken his last look at the little
village of Merok. During that interval Browne had endeavoured to amuse
himself to the best of his ability. In spite of Maas's insinuation to
the contrary, he had visited Russia; had shot bears in the company and
on the estates of his friend Demetrovitch; had passed south to the
Crimea, and thence, by way of Constantinople, to Cairo, where, chancing
upon some friends who were wintering in the land of the Pharaohs, he
had been persuaded into engaging a _dahabiyeh_, and had endured the
tedious river journey to Luxor and back in the company of a charming
French countess, an Austrian archduke, a German diplomatist, and an
individual whose accomplishments were as notorious as his tastes were