red from thirst, they were quite
satisfied, and wondered no longer.

He was all impatience to be gone. It tried him more now to think how
long it would be before Erica could hear of his preservation than to
bear all that had gone before. Being without clothes, however, it was
necessary to visit the cave, and bring away what was there. In truth,
Oddo was not sorry for this. His curiosity about the cave was so great,
that he felt it impossible to go home without seeing it; and the
advantage of holding the secret knowledge of such a place was one which
he would not give up. He seized an oar, gave another to Rolf; and they
were presently off the mouth of the cave. Peder sighed at their having
to leave him again: but he believed what Rolf said of there being no
danger, and of their remaining close at hand. One or the other came
popping up beside the boat, every minute, with clothes, or net, or
lines, or brandy-flask, and finally with the oars of the poor broken
skiff; being obliged to leave the skiff itself behind. Rolf did not
forget to bring away whole handsful of beautiful shells, which he had
amused himself with collecting for Erica.

At last, they entered the boat again; and while they were dressing, Oddo
charmed his grandfather with a description of the cave,--of the dark,
sounding walls, the lofty roof, and the green tide breaking on the white
sands. It almost made the listener cool to hear of these things: but,
as Oddo had remarked, the heat had abated. It was near midnight, and
the sun was going to set. Their row to the shore would be in the cool
twilight: and then they should take in companions, who, fresh from rest,
would save them the trouble of rowing home.

When all were too tired to talk, and the oars were dipping somewhat
lazily, and the breeze had died away, and the sea-birds were quiet, old
Peder, who appeared to his companions to be asleep, raised his head, and
said, "I heard a sob. Are you crying, Oddo?"

"Yes, grandfather."

"What is your grief, my boy?"

"No grief--anything but grief now. I have felt more grief than you know
of though, or anybody. I did not know it fully myself till now."

"Right, my boy: and right to say it out, too."

"I don't care now who knows how miserable I have been. I did not
believe, all the time, that Nipen had anything to do with these
misfortunes--"

"Right, Oddo," exclaimed Rolf, now.

"But I was not quite certain: and how could I say a word again