Creator in a jubilant roar of musical thunder. They paused and looked at
it for the last time before leaving,--it had assumed for them a new and
solemn aspect--it was Sigurd's grave. The _bonde_ raised his cap from
his rough white hair,--instinctively the others followed his example.

"May the gods grant him good rest!" said the old man reverently. "In the
wildest waters they say there is a calm underflow,--maybe the lad has
found it and is glad to sleep." He paused and stretched his hands forth
with an eloquent and touching gesture. "Peace be with him!"

Then, without more words, and as though disdaining his own emotion, he
turned abruptly away, and began to descend the stony and precipitous
hill, up which Sigurd had so skillfully guided them the day before.
Macfarlane and Duprez followed him close,--Macfarlane casting more than
once a keen look over the rapids.

"'Tis a pity we couldna find his body," he said in a low tone.

Duprez shrugged his shoulders. Sigurd's death had shocked him
considerably by its suddenness, but he was too much of a volatile
Frenchman to be morbidly anxious about securing the corpse.

"I think not so at all," he said. "Of what use would it be? To grieve
_mademoiselle_? to make her cry? That would be cruel,--I would not
assist in it! A dead body is not a sight for ladies,--believe me, things
are best as they are."

They went on, while Errington and Lorimer lingered yet a moment longer.

"A magnificent sepulchre!" said Lorimer, dreamily eyeing for the last
time the sweeping flow of the glittering torrent. "Better than all the
monuments ever erected! Upon my life, I would not mind having such a
grave myself! Say what you like, Phil, there was something grand in
Sigurd's choice of a death. We all of us have to get out of life somehow
one day--that's certain--but few of us have the chance of making such a
triumphant exit!"

Errington looked at him with a grave smile. "How you talk, George!" he
said half-reproachfully. "One would think you envied the end of that
unfortunate, half-witted fellow! You've no reason to be tired of your
life, I'm sure,--all your bright days are before you."

"Are they?" And Lorimer's blue eyes looked slightly melancholy. "Well, I
dare say they are! Let's hope so at all events. There need be something
before me,--there isn't much behind except wasted opportunities. Come
on, Phil!"

They resumed their walk, and soon rejoined the others. The journey back
to the