The
scandalous reports concerning Olaf Gueldmar were incorrect,--he had
evidently laid the remains of his wife in the shell-cavern, for some
reason connected with his religious belief, and Thelma's visits to the
sacred spot were now easy of comprehension. No doubt it was she who
placed fresh flowers there every day, and kept the little lamp burning
before the crucifix as a sign of the faith her departed mother had
professed, and which she herself followed. But who was Sigurd, and what
was he to the Gueldmars? Thinking this, he replied to the dwarf's
question by a counter-inquiry.

"How shall I be generous, Sigurd? Tell me! What can I do to please you?"

Sigurd's wild blue eyes sparkled with pleasure.

"Do!" he cried. "You can go away, swiftly, swiftly, over the seas, and
the Altenfjord need know you no more! Spread your white sails!" and he
pointed excitedly up to the tall tapering masts of the _Eulalie_. "You
are king here. Command and you are obeyed! Go from us, go! What is there
here to delay you? Our mountains are dark and gloomy,--the fields are
wild and desolate,--there are rocks, glaciers and shrieking torrents
that hiss like serpents gliding into the sea! Oh, there must be fairer
lands than this one,--lands where oceans and sky are like twin jewels
set in one ring,--where there are sweet flowers and fruits and bright
eyes to smile on you all day--yes! for you are as a god in your strength
and beauty--no woman will be cruel to _you_! Ah! say you will go away!"
and Sigurd's face was transfigured into a sort of pained beauty as he
made his appeal. "That is what I came to seek you for,--to ask you to
set sail quickly and go, for why should you wish to destroy me? I have
done you no harm as yet. Go!--and Odin himself shall follow your path
with blessings!"

He paused, almost breathless with his own earnest pleading. Errington
was silent. He considered the request a mere proof of the poor
creature's disorder. The very idea that Sigurd seemed to entertain of
his doing him any harm, showed a reasonless terror and foreboding that
was simply to be set down as caused by his unfortunate mental condition.
To such an appeal there could be no satisfactory reply. To sail away
from the Altenfjord and its now most fascinating attractions, because a
madman asked him to do so, was a proposition impossible of acceptance,
so Sir Philip said nothing. Sigurd, however, watching his face intently,
saw, or thought he saw, a look of re