make their nest without
interference from the old ones."

He stepped out on deck as Errington opened the little cabin door, and
his features kindled with enthusiasm as he looked on the stretch of dark
mountain scenery around him, illumined by the brilliant beams of the sun
that shone out now in full splendor, as though in glorious defiance of
the retreating storm, which had gradually rolled away in clouds that
were tumbling one over the other at the extreme edge of the northern
horizon, like vanquished armies taking to hasty flight.

"Could I stand the orderly tameness of your green England, think you,
after this?" he exclaimed, with a comprehensive gesture of his hand.
"No, no! When death comes--and 'twill not be long coming--let it find me
with my face turned to the mountains, and nothing but their kingly
crests between me and the blessed sky! Come, my lad!" and he relapsed
into his ordinary tone. "If thou art like me when I was thy age, every
minute passed away from thy love seems an eternity! Let us go to her--we
had best wait till the decks are dry before we assemble up here again."

They descended at once into the saloon, where they found Thelma being
initiated into the mysteries of chess by Duprez, while Macfarlane and
Lorimer looked idly on. She glanced up from the board as her father and
Errington entered, and smiled at them both with a slightly heightened
color.

"This is such a wonderful game, father!" she said. "And I am so stupid,
I cannot understand it! So Monsieur Pierre is trying to make me remember
the moves."

"Nothing is easier!" declared Duprez. "I was showing you how the bishop
goes, so--cross-ways," and he illustrated his lesson. "He is a dignitary
of the Church, you perceive. _Bien!_ it follows that he cannot go in a
straight line,--if you observe them well, you will see that all the
religious gentlemen play at cross purposes. You are very quick,
Mademoiselle Gueldmar,--you have perfectly comprehended the move of the
Castle, and the pretty plunge of the knight. Now, as I told you, the
queen can do anything--all the pieces shiver in their shoes before her!"

"Why?" she asked, feeling a little embarrassed, as Sir Philip came and
sat beside her, looking at her with an undoubtedly composed air of
absolute proprietorship.

"Why? _Enfin_, the reason is simple!" answered Pierre. "The queen is a
woman,--everything must give way to her wish!"

"And the king?" she inquired.

"Ah! _Le pauvre Roi!