all made it gleam like a
sparkling shower of molten gold.

"Njedegorze!" cried Sigurd again, giving a singularly musical
pronunciation to the apparently uncouth name. "Come! still a little
further,--to the top of the Fall!"

Olaf Gueldmar, however, paid no attention to this invitation. He was
already beginning to busy himself with preparations for passing the
night comfortably in the hut before mentioned. Stout old Norseman as he
was, there were limits to his endurance, and the arduous exertions of
the long day had brought fatigue to him as well as to the rest of the
party.

Macfarlane was particularly exhausted. His frequent pulls at the whiskey
flask had been of little or no avail as a support to his aching limbs,
and, now he had reached his destination, he threw himself full length on
the turf in front of the hut and groaned most dismally.

Lorimer surveyed him amusedly, and stood beside him, the very picture of
a cool young Briton whom nothing could possibly discompose.

"Done up--eh, Sandy?" he inquired.

"Done up!" growled Macfarlane. "D'ye think I'm a Norseman or a jumping
Frenchy?" This with a look of positive indignation at the lively Duprez,
who, if tired, was probably too vain to admit it, for he was strutting
about, giving vent to his genuine admiration of the scene before him
with the utmost freshness and enthusiasm. "I'm just a plain Scotchman,
an' no such a fule at climbin' either! Why, man, I've been up Goatfell
in Arran, an' Ben Lomond an' Ben Nevis--there's a mountain for ye, if ye
like! But a brae like this, wi' a' the stanes lyin' helter-skelter, an'
crags that ye can barely hold on to--and a mad chap guidin' ye on at the
speed o' a leapin' goat--I tell ye, I havena been used to't." Here he
drew out his flask and took another extensive pull at it. Then he added
suddenly, "Just look at Errington! He'll be in a fair way to break his
neck if he follows yon wee crazy loon any further."

At these words Lorimer turned sharply round, and perceived his friend
following Sigurd step by step up a narrow footing in the steep ascent of
some rough, irregular crags that ran out and formed a narrow ledge,
ending in a sharp point, jutting directly over the full fury of the
waterfall. He watched the two climbing figures for an instant without
any anxiety,--then he suddenly remembered that Philip had promised to go
with Sigurd "to the top of the Fall." Acting on a rapid impulse which he
did not stop to explain