s a
neat sailing-vessel; its name was painted round the stern--_The
Valkyrie_.

As the two friends ran their boat on shore, and fastened it to the
furthest ring of the convenient pier, they caught the distant sound of
the plaintiff "coo-cooing" of turtle doves.

"You've done it this time, old boy," said Lorimer, speaking in a
whisper, though he knew not why. "This is the old _bonde's_ own private
landing-place evidently, and here's a footpath leading somewhere. Shall
we follow it?"

Philip emphatically assented, and, treading softly, like the trespassers
they felt themselves to be, they climbed the ascending narrow way that
guided them up from the seashore, round through a close thicket of
pines, where their footsteps fell noiselessly on a thick carpet of
velvety green moss, dotted prettily here and there with the red gleam of
ripening wild strawberries. Everything was intensely still, and as yet
there seemed no sign of human habitation. Suddenly a low whirring sound
broke upon their ears, and Errington, who was a little in advance of his
companion, paused abruptly with a smothered exclamation, and drew back
on tip-toe, catching Lorimer by the arm.

"By Jove!" he whispered excitedly, "we've come right up to the very
windows of the house. Look!"

Lorimer obeyed, and for once, the light jest died upon his tips.
Surprise and admiration held him absolutely silent.

CHAPTER V.

"Elle filait et souriait--et je crois qu'elle enveloppa mon coeur
avec son fil."--HEINE.

Before them, close enough for their outstretched hands to have touched
it, was what appeared to be a framed picture, exquisitely painted,--a
picture perfect in outline matchless in color, faultless in detail,--but
which was in reality nothing but a large latticed window thrown wide
open to admit the air. They could now see distinctly through the shadows
cast by the stately pines, a long, low, rambling house, built roughly,
but strongly, of wooden rafters, all overgrown with green and blossoming
creepers; but they scarcely glanced at the actual building, so strongly
was their attention riveted on the one window before them. It was
surrounded by an unusually broad framework, curiously and elaborately
carved, and black as polished ebony. Flowers grew all about it,--sweet
peas, mignonette, and large purple pansies--while red and white climbing
roses rioted in untrained profusion over its wide sill. Above it was a
quaintly built dovecote, wher