eal--and now, who knows whither he has
wandered?"

"Never mind, sir," said Lorimer. "Engage me as a kitchen-boy. I can
light a fire, and can also sit beside it when it is properly kindled.
More I cannot promise. As the housemaids say when they object to assist
the cook,--it would be _beneath_ me."

"Cook!" cried Duprez, catching at this word. "I can cook! Give me
anything to broil. I will broil it! You have coffee--I will make it!"
And in the twinkling of an eye he had divested himself of his coat,
turned up his cuffs, and manufactured the cap of a _chef_ out of a
newspaper which he stuck jauntily on his head. "Behold me, _messieurs_,
_a votre service_!"

His liveliness was infectious; they all set to work with a will, and in
a few moments a crackling wood-fire blazed cheerily on the ground, and
the gipsy preparations for the _al fresco_ supper went on apace amid
peals of laughter. Soon the fragrance of steaming coffee arose and
mingled itself with the resinous odors of the surrounding
pine-trees,--while Macfarlane distinguished himself by catching a fine
salmon trout in a quiet nook of the rushing river, and this Duprez
cooked in a style that would have done honor to a _cordon bleu_. They
made an excellent meal, and sang songs in turn and told stories,--Olaf
Gueldmar, in particular, related eerie legends of the _Dovre-fjelde_, and
many a striking history of ancient origin, full of terror and
superstition,--concerning witches, devils, and spirits both good and
evil, who are still believed to have their abode on the Norwegian
hills,--for, as the _bonde_ remarked with a smile, "when civilization
has driven these unearthly beings from every other refuge in the world,
they will always be sure of a welcome in Norway."

It was eleven o'clock when they at last retired within the hut to rest
for the night, and the errant Sigurd had not returned. The sun shone
brilliantly, but there was no window to the small shed, and light and
air came only through the door, which was left wide open. The tired
travellers lay down on their spread-out rugs and blankets, and wishing
each other a cheerful "good night," were soon fast asleep. Errington was
rather restless, and lay awake for some little time, listening to the
stormy discourse of the Fall; but at last his eyelids yielded to the
heaviness that oppressed them, and he sank into a light slumber.

Meanwhile the imperial sun rode majestically downwards to the edge of
the horizon,--an