mountain in
Norway, was thought to be his favourite haunt; and considering his
strange appearance, and his silence, it could hardly be other than
himself.

The test would be whether he would speak first; a test which she
resolved to try, though it was rather difficult to meet and return the
stare of such a neighbour without speaking. She could not keep this up
for more than a minute: so she sprang to her feet, rested her lure upon
her shoulder, took her bundle in her hand, and began to wade back
through the high grass to the pathway, almost expecting, when she
thought of her mother's fate, to be seized by a strong hand, and cast
into the unfathomable tarn, whose waters were said to well up from the
centre of the earth. Her companion, however, merely walked by her side.
As he did not offer to carry her bundle, he could be no countryman of
hers. There was not a peasant in Nordland who would not have had more
courtesy.

They walked quietly on till the tarn was left some way behind. Erica
found she was not to die that way. Presently after, they came in sight
of a settlement of Lapps,--a cluster of low and dirty tents, round which
some tame reindeer were feeding. Erica was not sorry to see these;
though no one knew better than she the helpless cowardice of these
people; and it was not easy to say what assistance they could afford
against the mountain-demon. Yet they were human beings, and would
appear in answer to a cry. She involuntarily shifted her lure, to be
ready to utter a call. The stranger stopped to look at the distant
tents, and Erica went on, at the same pace. He presently overtook her,
and pointed towards the Lapps with an inquiring look. Erica only
nodded.

"Why you no speak?" growled the stranger, in broken language.

"Because I have nothing to say," declared Erica, in the sudden vivacity
inspired by the discovery that this was probably no demon. Her doubts
were renewed, however, by the next question.

"Is the bishop coming?"

Now, none were supposed to have a deeper interest in the holy bishop's
travels than the evil spirits of any region through which he was to
pass.

"Yes, he is coming," replied Erica. "Are you afraid of him?"

The stranger burst into a loud laugh at her question: and very like a
mocking fiend he looked, as his thick beard parted to show his wide
mouth, with its two ranges of teeth. When he finished laughing, he
said, "No, no--we no fear bishop."

"`We!'" repeated