ess of olden days; his
manners and customs are different; and few like him. He is much feared."

"You know him then?" inquired Errington carelessly.

"I know him," returned Valdemar quietly. "And his daughter is fair as
the sun and the sea. But it is not my place to speak of them--." He
broke off, and after a slightly embarrassed pause, asked, "Will the
Herren wish to sail to-day?"

"No Valdemar," answered Errington indifferently. "Not till to-morrow,
when we'll visit the Kaa Fjord if the weather keeps fair."

"Very good, sir," and the pilot, tacitly avoiding any further converse
with his employer respecting the mysterious Thelma and her equally
mysterious father, turned to examine the wheel and compass as though
something there needed his earnest attention. Errington and Lorimer
strolled up and down the polished white deck arm-in-arm, talking in low
tones.

"You didn't ask him about the coffin and the dwarf," said Lorimer.

"No; because I believe he knows nothing of either, and it would be news
to him which I'm not bound to give. If I can manage to see the girl
again the mystery of the cave may explain itself."

"Well, what are you going to do?"

Errington looked meditative. "Nothing at present We'll go fishing with
the others. But, I tell you what, if you're up to it, we'll leave Duprez
and Macfarlane at the minister's house this evening and tell them to
wait for us there,--once they all begin to chatter they never know how
time goes. Meanwhile you and I will take the boat and row over in search
of this farmer's abode. I believe there's a short cut to it by water; at
any rate I know the way _she_ went."

"'I know the way she went home with her maiden posy!'" quoted Lorimer,
with a laugh. "You are hit Phil, 'a very palpable hit'! Who would have
thought it! Clara Winsleigh needn't poison her husband after all
in-order to marry you, for nothing but a sun-empress will suit you now."

"Don't be a fool, George," said Errington, half vexedly, as the hot
color mounted to his face in spite of himself. "It is all idle
curiosity, nothing else. After what Svensen told us, I'm quite as
anxious to see this gruff old _bonde_ as his daughter."

Lorimer held up a reproachful finger. "Now, Phil, don't stoop to
duplicity--not with me, at any rate. Why disguise your feelings? Why, as
the tragedians say, endeavor to crush the noblest and best emotions that
ever warm the _boo-zum_ of man? Chivalrous sentiment and admiration for