l_!"

A crash of breaking window-glass followed these words, and before Mr.
Dyceworthy could realize what had happened, he was pinioned against his
own wall by an active, wiry, excited individual, whose black eyes
sparkled with gratified rage, whose clenched fist was dealing him severe
thumps all over his fat body.

"Ha, ha! You will, will you!" cried Duprez, literally dancing up against
him and squeezing him as though he were a jelly. "You will tell lies in
the service of _le Bon Dieu_? No--not quite, not yet!" And still
pinioning him with one hand, he dragged at his collar with the other
till he succeeded, in spite of the minister's unwieldly efforts to
defend himself, in rolling him down upon the floor, where he knelt upon
him in triumph. "_Voila! Je sais faire la boxe, moi!_" Then turning to
Thelma, who stood an amazed spectator of the scene, her flushed cheeks
and tear-swollen eyes testifying to the misery of the hours she had
passed, he said, "Run, Mademoiselle, run! The little Britta is outside,
she has a pony-car--she will drive you home. I will stay here till
Phil-eep comes. I shall enjoy myself! I will begin--Phil-eep with
finish! Then we will return to you."

Thelma needed no more words, she rushed to the door, threw it open, and
vanished like a bird in air. Britta's joy at seeing her was too great
for more than an exclamation of welcome,--and the carriole, with the two
girls safely in it, was soon on its rapid way back to the farm.
Meanwhile, Olaf Gueldmar, with Errington and the others, had just landed
at Bosekop after a heavy pull across the Fjord, and they made straight
for Mr. Dyceworthy's house, the _bonde_ working himself up as he walked
into a positive volcano of wrath. Finding the street-door open as it had
just been left by the escaped Thelma, they entered, and on the threshold
of the parlor, stopped abruptly, in amazement at the sight that
presented itself. Two figures were rolling about on the floor,
apparently in a close embrace,--one large and cumbrous, the other small
and slight. Sometimes they shook each other,--sometimes they lay
still,--sometimes they recommenced rolling. Both were perfectly silent,
save that the larger personage seemed to breathe somewhat heavily.
Lorimer stepped into the room to secure a better view--then he broke
into an irrepressible laugh.

"It's Duprez," he cried, for the benefit of the others that stood at the
door. "By Jove! How did he get here, I wonder?"

Hea