Altenfjord was continued all day with but one or two
interruptions for rest and refreshment. It was decided that on reaching
home, old Gueldmar should proceed a little in advance, in order to see
his daughter alone first, and break to her the news of the tragic event
that had occurred,--so that when, after a long and toilsome journey,
they caught sight, at about eight in the evening, of the familiar
farmhouse through the branches of the trees that surrounded and
sheltered it, they all came to a halt.

The young men seated themselves on a pleasant knoll under some tall
pines, there to wait a quarter of an hour or so, while the _bonde_ went
forward to prepare Thelma. On second thoughts, the old man asked
Errington to accompany him,--a request to which he very readily acceded,
and these two, leaving the others to follow at their leisure, went on
their way rapidly. They arrived at, and entered the garden,--their
footsteps made a crunching noise on the pebbly path,--but no welcoming
face looked forth from any of the windows of the house. The entrance
door stood wide open,--there was not a living soul to be seen but the
kitten asleep in a corner of the porch, and the doves drowsing on the
roof in the sunshine. The deserted air of the place was unmistakable,
and Gueldmar and Errington exchanged looks of wonder not unmixed with
alarm.

"Thelma! Thelma!" called the _bonde_ anxiously. There was no response.
He entered the house and threw open the kitchen door. There was no
fire,--and not the slightest sign of any of the usual preparations for
supper.

"Britta!" shouted Gueldmar. Still no answer. "By the gods!" he exclaimed,
turning to the astonished Philip, "this is a strange thing! Where can
the girls be? I have never known both of them to be absent from the
house at the same time. Go down to the shore, my lad, and see if
Thelma's boat is missing, while I search the garden."

Errington obeyed--hurrying off on his errand with a heart beating fast
from sudden fear and anxiety. For he knew Thelma was not likely to
have gone out of her own accord, at the very time she would have
naturally expected her father and his friends back, and the absence of
Britta too, was, to say the least of it, extraordinary. He reached the
pier very speedily, and saw at a glance that the boat was gone. He
hastened back to report this to Gueldmar, who was making the whole place
resound with his shouts of "Thelma!" and "Britta!" though he shouted
alt