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T H E L M A 
 
 A SOCIETY NOVEL. 
 
 MARIE CORELLI, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 A ROMANCE OF TWO "WORLDS AND "VENDETTA 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES, 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 Richard' BENTLEY and son, 
 
 liublisl)crs in ©rliinarg to l^cr fHajcstg tfje ©ueen. 
 
 1887. 
 
 {All rights reserved.') 
 
^^ 
 
 V.I 
 
 TO 
 
 MY DEAREST FlUEND 
 
 \s BERTHA VAN DER VYVER, 
 
 IN KECOGNITIOX 0F» 
 
 HER SWKET COMPANIONSHIP, TENDER .SYMPATHY. 
 
 AND 
 
 MOST FAITHFUL LOVE. 
 
 4 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 
 
 TOL. I. 
 
T HELM A. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Dream by dream shot through her eyes, and each 
 Outshone the last that lightened." 
 
 Swinburne. 
 
 MiDXiGHT, — without darkness, without stars ! Mid- 
 night, — and the unwearied sun stood, yet visible 
 in the heavens, like a victorious king throned 
 on a dais of royal purple bordered with gold. 
 The sky above him, — his canopy, — gleamed with a 
 cold yet lustrous blue, while across it slowly flitted 
 a few wandering clouds of palest amber, deepening, 
 as they sailed along, to a tawny orange. A broad 
 stream of light falling, as it were, from the centre 
 of the magnificent orb, shot lengthwise across the 
 Altenfjord, turning its waters to a mass of quiver- 
 ing and shifting colour that alternated from bronze 
 to copper, — from copper to silver and azure. The 
 surrounding hills glowed with a warm, deep violet 
 tint, flecked here and there with touches of bright 
 
4 THELMA. 
 
 red, as though fairies were lighting tiny bonfires 
 on their summits. Away in the distance a huge 
 mass of rock stood out to view, its rugged lines 
 transfigured into ethereal loveliness by a misty veil 
 of tender rose pink, — a hue curiously suggestive 
 of some other and smaller sun that mio:ht have 
 just set. Absolute silence prevailed. Not even 
 the cry of a sea-mew or kittiwake broke the 
 ahuost deathlike stillness, — no breath of wind 
 stirred a ripple ou the glassy water. The whole 
 scene might well have been the fantastic dream 
 of some imaginative painter, whose ambition 
 soared beyond the limits of human skill. Yet 
 it was only one of those million wonderful efi'ects 
 of sky and sea which are common in Norway, 
 especially on the Altenfjord, where, though be- 
 yond the Arctic circle, the climate in summer is 
 that of another Italy, and the landscape a living 
 poem fairer than the visions of Endymion. 
 
 There was one solitary watcher of the splendid 
 spectacle. This was a man of refined features and 
 aristocratic appearance, who, reclining on a large 
 rug of skins which he had thrown down on the 
 shore for that purpose, was gazing at the pageant 
 of the midnight sun and all its stately surround- 
 ings, with an earnest and rapt expression in his 
 clear hazel eyes. 
 
 " Glorious ! beyond all expectation, glorious ! '* 
 he murmured half aloud, as he consulted his watch 
 and saw that the hands marked exactly twelve on 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 5 
 
 tlie dial. " I believe I'm having the best of it, 
 after all. Even if those fellows get the Eulalie 
 into good position they will see nothing finer 
 than this." 
 
 As he spoke he raised his field-glass and swept 
 the horizon in search of a vessel, — his own plea- 
 sure yacht, — which had taken three of his friends, 
 at their special desire, to the opposite island of 
 Seiland, — Seiland, rising in weird majesty three 
 thousand feet above the sea, and boasting as its 
 chief glory the great peak of Jedke, the most 
 northern glacier in all the wild Norwegian land. 
 There was no sign of a returning sail, and he 
 resumed his study of the sumptuous sky, the 
 colours of which were now deepening and burning 
 with increasing lustre, while an array of clouds 
 of the deepest purple hue, swept gorgeously 
 together beneath the sun as though to form his 
 footstool. 
 
 "One might imagine that the trump of the 
 Resurrection had sounded, and that all this aerial 
 pomp, — this strange silence, — was just the pause, 
 the supreme moment before the angels descended," 
 he mused, with a half-smile at his own fancy, 
 for though something of a poet at heart, he was 
 much more of a cynic. He was too deeply imbued 
 with modern fashionable atheism to think seriously 
 about angels or Resurrection trumps, but there was 
 a certain love of mysticism and romance in his 
 nature, which not even his Oxford experiences 
 
6 THELMA. 
 
 and the chilly dullness of English materialism 
 had heen able to eradicate. And there was some- 
 thing impressive in the sight of the majestic orb 
 holding such imperial revel at midnight, — some- 
 thing almost unearthly in the light and life of 
 the heavens, as compared with the reverential and 
 seemingly worshipping silence of the earth, — that, 
 for a few moments, awed him into a sense of the 
 spiritual and unseen. Mythical passages from 
 the poets he loved came into his meniory, and 
 stray fragments of old songs and ballads he had 
 known in his childhood returned to him with 
 haunting persistence. It was, for him, one of 
 those sudden halts in life which we all experience, 
 — an instant, — when time and the world seem to 
 stand still, as though to permit us easy breathing ; 
 a brief space, — in which we are allowed to stop and 
 wonder awhile at the strange unaccountable foice 
 within us, that enables us to stand with such calm, 
 smiling audacity, on our small pin's point of the 
 present, between the wide dark gaps of past and 
 future ; a small hush, — in which the gigantic 
 engines of the universe appear to revolve no 
 more, and the immortal Soul of man itself is 
 subjected and over-ruled by supreme and eternal 
 Thought. Drifting away on those delicate imper- 
 ceptible lines that lie between reality and dream- 
 land, the watcher of the midnight sun gave 
 himself up to the half painful, half delicious sense 
 of being drawn in, absorbed, and lost in infinite 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 7 
 
 imaginings, when the intense stillness around him 
 was broken by the sound of a voice singing, a 
 full, rich contralto, that rang through the air 
 with the clearness of a golden bell. The sweet 
 liquid notes were those of an old Norwegian 
 mountain melody, one of those wildly pathetic 
 folk-songs that seem to hold all the sorrow, wonder, 
 wistfulness, and indescribable yearning of a heart 
 too full for other speech than music. He started 
 to his feet and looked around him for the singer. 
 There was no one visible. The amber streaks in 
 ih.Q sky were leaping into crimson flame ; the 
 Fjord glowed like the burning lake of Dante's 
 vision ; one solitary sea-gull winged its graceful, 
 noiseless flight far above, its white pinions 
 shimmering like jewels as it crossed the radiance 
 of the heavens. Other sign of animal life there 
 was none. Still the hidden voice rippled on in 
 a stream of melody, and the listener stood amazed 
 and enchanted at the roundness and distinctness 
 of every note that fell from the lips of the unseen 
 vocalist. 
 
 "A woman's voice," he thought; "but where 
 is the woman ? " 
 
 Puzzled, he looked to the right and left, then 
 out to the shining Fjord, half expecting to see 
 some fisher-maiden rowing along, and singing as 
 she rowed, but there was no sign of any living 
 creature. While he waited, the voice suddenly 
 ceased, and the song was replaced by the sharp 
 
8 THELMA. 
 
 grating of a keel on the beach. Turning in 
 the direction of this sound, he perceived a boat 
 being pushed out by invisible hands towards the 
 water's edge from a rocky cave, that jutted upon 
 the Fjord, and, full of curiosity, he stepped to- 
 wards the arched entrance, when, — all suddenly 
 and unexpectedly, — a girl sprang out from the dark 
 interior, and, standing erect in her boat, faced the 
 intruder. A girl of about nineteen she seemed, 
 taller than most women, — with a magnificent un- 
 covered mass of hair, the colour of the midnight 
 sunshine, tumbled over her shoulders, and flashing 
 against her flushed cheeks and dazzlingly fair 
 skin. Her deep blue eyes had an astonished and 
 certainly indignant expression in them, while he, 
 utterly unprepared for such a vision of loveliness 
 at such a time and in such a place, was for a 
 moment taken aback and at a loss for words. 
 Eecovering his habitual self-possession quickly, 
 however, he raised his hat, and, pointing to the 
 boat, which was more than half way out of the 
 cavern, said simply — 
 
 " May I assist you ? " 
 
 She was silent, eyeing him with a keen glance 
 which had something in it of disfavour and sus- 
 picion. 
 
 " I suppose she doesn't understand English," 
 he thought, " and I can't speak a word of Nor- 
 wegian. I must talk by signs." 
 
 And forthwith he went through a laboured 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 9 
 
 pantomime of gesture, sufficiently ludicrous in 
 itself, yet at the same time expressive of his 
 meaning. The girl broke into a laugh — a laugh 
 of sweet amusement which brought a thousand 
 new sparkles of light into her lovely eyes. 
 
 " That is very well done," she observed gra- 
 ciously, speaking English with something of a 
 foreign accent. " Even the Lapps would under- 
 stand you, and they are very stupid, poor things ! " 
 
 Half vexed by her laughter, and feeling that 
 he was somehow an object of ridicule to this tall, 
 bright-haired maiden, he ceased his pantomimic 
 gestures abruptly and stood looking at her with 
 a slight flush of embarrassment on his features. 
 
 " I know your language," she resumed quietly, 
 after a brief pause, in which she had apparently 
 considered the stranger's appearance and general 
 bearing. "• It was rude of me not to have an- 
 swered you at once. You can help me if you will. 
 The keel has caught among the pebbles, but we 
 can easily move it between us." And, jumping 
 lightly out of her boat, she grasped its edge 
 firmly with her strong white hands, exclaiming 
 gaily, as she did so, " Push ! " 
 
 Thus adjured, he lost no time in complying 
 with her request, and, using his great strength 
 and muscular force to good purpose, the light 
 little craft was soon well in the water, swaying 
 to and fro as though with impatience to be gone. 
 The girl sprang to her seat, discarding his eagerly 
 
10 THELMA. 
 
 proffered assistance, and, taking both oars, laid 
 them in their respective rowlocks, and seemed 
 about to start, when she paused and asked 
 abruptly — 
 
 *' Are you a sailor ? " 
 
 He smiled. " Not I ! Do I remind you of 
 one? 
 
 "You are strong, and you manage a boat as 
 though you were accustomed to the work. Also 
 you look as if you had been at sea." 
 
 ''Eightly guessed! " he replied, still smiling; 
 "• I certainly have been at sea ; I have been coast- 
 ing all about your lovely land. My yacht went 
 across to Seiland this afternoon." 
 
 She regarded him more intently, and observed, 
 with the critical eye of a woman, the refined taste 
 displayed in his dress, from the very cut of his 
 loose travelling coat, to the luxurious rug of fine 
 fox-skins, that lay so carelessly cast on the shore 
 at a little distance from him. Then she gave a 
 gesture of hauteur and half-contempt. 
 
 " You have a yacht ? Oh ! then you are a 
 gentleman. You do nothing for your living ? " 
 
 " Nothing, indeed ! " and he shrugged his 
 shoulders with a mingled air of weariness and 
 self-pity, " except one thing — I live ! " 
 
 " Is that hard work ? " she inquired wonder- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Yery." 
 
 They were silent then, and the girl's face grew 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 11 
 
 serious as she rested on her oars, and still sur- 
 veyed him with a straight, candid gaze, that, 
 though earnest and penetrating, had nothing of 
 boldness in it. It was the look of one in who'si^ ' 
 past there were no secrets — the look of a childjr 
 who is satisfied with the present and takes no 
 thought for the future. Few women look so after 
 they have entered their teens. Social artifice, 
 affectation, and the insatiate vanity that modern [ 
 life encourages in the feminine nature — all these 
 things soon do away with the pellucid clearness 
 and steadfastness of the eye — the beautiful, true, , 
 untamed expression, which, though so rare, is, I 
 when seen, infinitely more bewitching than all the 
 bright arrows of coquetry and sparkling invitation 
 that flash from the glances of well-bred society 
 dames, who have taken care to educate their eyes 
 if not their hearts. This girl was evidently not 
 trained properly ; had she been so, she would 
 have dropped a curtain over those wide, bright 
 windows of her soul ; she would have remembered 
 that she was alone with a strange man at mid- 
 night — at midnight, though the sun shone ; she 
 would have simpered and feigned embarrassment, 
 even if she could not feel it. As it happened, she 
 did nothing of the kind, only her expression 
 softened and became more wistful and earnest, 
 and when she spoke again her voice was mellow 
 with a suave gentleness, that had something in it 
 of compassion. 
 
12 THELMA. 
 
 " If you do not love life itself," she said, " you 
 love the beautiful things of life, do you not ? See 
 yonder ! There is what we call the meeting of 
 night and morning. One is glad to be alive at 
 such a moment. Look quickly ! The light soon 
 fades." 
 
 She pointed towards the east. Her companion 
 gazed in that direction, and uttered an excla- 
 mation, — almost a shout, — of wonder and ad- 
 miration. Within the space of the past few 
 minutes the aspect of the heavens liad completely 
 changed. The burning scarlet and violet hues 
 had all melted into a transparent yet brilliant 
 shade of pale mauve, — as delicate as the inner tint 
 of a lilac blossom, — and across this stretched two 
 wing-shaped gossamer clouds of watery green, 
 fringed with soft primrose. Between these cloud- 
 wings, as opaline in lustre as those of a dragon- 
 fly, the face of the sun shone like a shield of 
 polished gold, while his rays, piercing spear-like 
 through the varied tints of emerald, brought an 
 unearthly radiance over the landscape — a lustre 
 as though the moon were, in some strange way, 
 battling with the sun for mastery over the visible 
 universe, though, looking southward, she could 
 dimly be perceived, the ghost of herself — a poor, 
 fainting, pallid goddess, — a perishing Diana. 
 
 Bringing his glance down from the skies, the 
 young man turned it to the face of the maiden 
 near him, and was startled at her marvellous 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 13 
 
 beauty — beauty now heightened by the effect of 
 the changeful colours that played around her. 
 The very boat in which she sat glittered with a 
 bronze-like, metallic brightness as it heaved gently 
 to and fro on the silvery green water; the mid- 
 night sunshine bathed the falling glory of her 
 long hair, till each thick tress, each clustering 
 curl, appeared to emit an amber spark of light. 
 The strange, weird effect of the sky seemed to 
 have stolen into her eyes, making them shine with 
 witch-like brilliancy, — the varied radiance flashing 
 about her brought into strong relief the pureness 
 of her profile, drawing as with a fine pencil the 
 outlines of her noble forehead, sweet mouth, and 
 rounded chin. It touched the scarlet of her 
 bodice, and brightened the quaint old silver clasps 
 she wore at her waist and throat, till she seemed 
 no longer an earthly being, but more like some 
 fair wandering sprite from the legendary Norse 
 kingdom of Alfheim, the " abode of the Luminous 
 Genii." 
 
 She was gazing upwards,' — heavenwards, — and 
 her expression was one of rapt and almost de- 
 votional intensity. Thus she remained for 
 some moments, motionless as the picture of an 
 expectant angel painted by Raffaelle or Correggio ; 
 then reluctantly and with a deep sigh she turned 
 her eyes towards earth again. In so doing she 
 met the fixed and too visibly admiring gaze of 
 her companion. She started, and a wave of vivid 
 
14 THELMA. 
 
 colour flushed her cheeks. Quickly recovering 
 her serenity, however, she saluted him slightly, 
 and, moving her oars in unison, was on the point 
 of departure. 
 
 Stirred by an impulse he could not resist, he 
 laid one hand detainingly on the rim of her boat. 
 
 *' Are you going now ? " he asked. 
 
 She raised her eyebrows in some little surprise 
 and smiled. 
 
 " Going ? " she repeated. " Why, yes. I shall 
 be late in getting home as it is." 
 
 " Stop a moment," he said eagerly, feeling 
 that he could not let this beautiful creature leave 
 him as utterly as a midsummer night's dream 
 without some clue as to her origin and destination. 
 " Will you not tell me your name ? " 
 
 She drew herself erect with a look of indig- 
 nation. 
 
 " Sir, I do not know you. The maidens of 
 Norway do not give their names to strangers." 
 
 " Pardon me," he replied, somewhat abashed. 
 " I mean no offence. We have watched the mid- 
 night sun together, and — and — I thought " 
 
 ^ He paused, feeling very foolish, and unable to 
 conclude his sentence. 
 
 She looked at him demurely from under her 
 long, curling lashes. 
 
 " You will often find a peasant girl on the 
 shores of the Altenfjord watching the midnight 
 sun at the same time as yourself," she said, and 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 15 
 
 there was a suspicion of laughter in her voice. 
 *^ It is not unusual. It is not even necessary that 
 you should remember so little a thing." 
 
 *' Necessary or not, I shall never forget it," 
 he said with sudden impetuosity. " You are no 
 peasant ! Come ; if I give you my name will you 
 still deny me yours ? " 
 
 Her delicate brows drew together in a frown 
 of haughty and decided refusal. "No names 
 please my ears save those that are familiar," she 
 said, with intense coldness. " We shall not meet 
 again. Farewell ! " 
 
 And without further word or look, she leaned 
 gracefully to the oars, and pulling with a long, 
 steady, resolute stroke, the little boat darted 
 away as lightly and swiftly as a skimming 
 swallow out on the shimmering water. He stood 
 gazing after it till it became a distant speck 
 sparkling like a diamond in the light of sky 
 and wave, and when he could no more watch it 
 with imassisted eyes, he took up his field glass 
 and followed its course attentively. He saw it 
 cutting along as straightly as an arrow, then 
 suddenly it dipped round to the westward, ap- 
 parently making straight for some shelving rocks, 
 that projected far into the Fjord. It reached them ; 
 it grew less and less — it disappeared. At the 
 same time the lustre of the heavens gave way 
 to a pale pearl-like uniform grey tint, that 
 stretched far and wide, folding up as in a mantle 
 
16 THELMA. 
 
 all the regal luxury of the Sun-king's palace. The 
 subtle odour and delicate chill of the coming dawn 
 stole freshly across the water. A light haze rose 
 and obscured the opposite islands. Something of 
 the tender melancholy of autumn, though it was 
 late June, toned down the aspect of the before 
 brilliant landscape. A lark rose swiftly from its 
 nest in an adjacent meadow, and, soaring higher 
 and higher, poured from its tiny throat a cascade 
 of delicious melody. The midnight sun no longer 
 shone at midnight ; his face smiled with a sobered 
 serenity through the faint early mists of approach- 
 ing morning. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 17 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 "Viens done — ^je te chanterai des chansons que les esprits des 
 cimetieres m'ont apprises ! " 
 
 Maturix. 
 
 " Baffled ! " lie exclaimed, with a slight vexed 
 laugh, as the boat vanished from his sight. " Bj 
 a woman, too ! Who would have thought it ? " 
 
 T7ho would have thought it, indeed ! Sir 
 Philip Bruce-Errington, Baronet, the wealthy and 
 desirable ^:>a?'^i for w4iom many match-making 
 mothers had stood knee-deep in the chilly though 
 sparkling waters of society, ardently plying rod 
 and line with patient persistence, vainly hoping 
 to secure him as a husband for one of their 
 highly proper and passionless daughters, — he, 
 the admired, long-sought-after " eligible," was 
 suddenly rebuffed, flouted — by whom ? A stray 
 })rincess, or a peasant ? He vaguely wondered, 
 as he lit a cigar and strolled up and down on the 
 shore, meditating, with a puzzled, almost annoyed 
 expression on his handsome features. He was 
 not accustomed to slights of any kind, however 
 
 VOL. I. b ^ ^ 
 
18 THELMA. 
 
 trifling; his position being commanding and 
 enviable enough to attract flattery and friendship 
 from most people. He was the only son of a 
 baronet as renowned for eccentricity as for wealth. 
 He had been the spoilt darling of his mother ; and 
 now, both his parents being dead, he was alone in 
 the world, heir to his father's revenues and entire 
 master of his own actions. And as part of the 
 penalty he had to pay for being rich and good- 
 looking to boot, he was so much run after by 
 women that he found it hard to understand the 
 haughty Indifference with which he had just been 
 treated, by one of the most fair, if not the fairest 
 of her sex. He was piqued, and his amour propre 
 was wounded. 
 
 " I'm sure my question was harmless enough," 
 he mused, half crossly. '^ She might have an- 
 swered it." 
 
 He glanced out impatiently over the Fjord. 
 There was no sign of his returning yacht as yet. 
 
 " What a time those fellows are ! " he said to 
 himself " If the pilot were not on board, I 
 should begin to think they had run the Eulalie 
 aground." 
 
 He finished his cigar and threw the end of it 
 into the water ; then he stood moodily watching 
 the ripples as they rolled softly up and caressed 
 the shining brown shore at his feet, thinking 
 all the while of that strange girl, so wonderfully 
 lovely in face and form, so graceful and proud 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 19 
 
 of bearing, with her great blue eyes and masses 
 of duskv o-old hair. 
 
 His meeting with her was a sort of adventure 
 in its way — tlie first of the kind he had had for 
 some time. He was subject to fits of weariness or 
 caprice, and it was in one of these that he had 
 suddenly left London in the height of the season, 
 and had started for Norway on a yachting cruise 
 with three chosen companions, one of whom, George 
 Lorimer, once an Oxford fellow-student, was now 
 his " chum " — the Pythias to his Damon, the fidus 
 Achates of his closest confidence. Through the 
 unexpected wakening up of energy in the latter 
 young gentleman, who was usually of a most sleepy 
 and indolent disposition, he happened to be quite 
 alone on this particular occasion, though, as a 
 general rule, he was accompanied in his rambles 
 by one if not all three of his friends. Utter 
 solitude was with him a rare occurrence, and his 
 present experience of it had chanced in this wise. 
 Lorimer the languid, Lorimer the lazy, Lorimer 
 who had remained blandly unmoved and drowsy 
 through all the magnificent panorama of the 
 Norwegian coast, including the Sogne Fjord and 
 the toppling peaks of the Justedal glaciers ; 
 Lorimer who had slept peacefully in a hammock 
 on deck, even while the yacht was passing under 
 the looming splendours of Melsnipa ; Lorimer, 
 now that he had arrived at the Alten Fjord, then 
 at its loveliest in the full glory of the continuous 
 
20 THELMA. 
 
 sunshine, developed a new turn of mind, and 
 began to show sudden and abnormal interest in 
 the scenery. In this humour he expressed his 
 desire to " take a sight " of the midnight sun from 
 the island of Seiland, and also declared his resolve 
 to try the nearly impossible ascent of the great 
 Jedke glacier. 
 
 Errington laughed at the idea. " Don't tell 
 me," he said, " that you are going in for climbing. 
 And do you suppose I believe that you are in- 
 terested — you of all people — in the heavenly 
 bodies ? " 
 
 " Why not ? " asked Lorimer, with a candid 
 smile. " I'm not in the least interested in earthly 
 bodies, except my own. The sun's a jolly fellow. 
 I sympathize with him in his present condition. 
 He's in his cups — that's what's the matter — and 
 he can't be persuaded to go to bed. I know his 
 feelings perfectly ; and I want to survey his 
 gloriously inebriated face from another point of 
 view. Don't- laugh, Phil ; I'm in earnest ! And 
 I really have quite a curiosity to try my skill in 
 amateur mountaineering. Jedke's the very place 
 for a first effort. It offers difficulties, and " — this 
 with a slight yawn — '' I like to surmount difficul- 
 ties ; it's rather amusing." 
 
 His mind was so evidently set upon the ex- 
 cursion, that Sir Philip made no attempt to dis- 
 suade him from it, but excused himself from 
 accompanying the party on the plea that he 
 
THE LAXD OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 21 
 
 wanted to finish a sketch he had recently begun. So 
 that when the Eulalie got up her steam, weighed 
 anchor, and swept gracefully away towards the 
 ooast of the adjacent islands, her owner was left, 
 at his desire, to the seclusion of a quiet nook on 
 the shore of the Altenfjord, where he succeeded 
 in making a bold and vivid picture of the scene 
 before him. The colours of the sky had, however, 
 defied his palette, and after one or two futile 
 attempts to transfer to his canvas a few of the 
 gorgeous tints that illumined the landscape, he 
 gave up the task in despair, and resigned himself 
 to the dolcefar niente of absolute enjoyment. From 
 his half pleasing, half melancholy reverie the voice 
 of the unknown maiden had startled him, and now, 
 — now she had left him to resume it if he chose, — 
 left him, in chill displeasure, with a cold yet brilliant 
 flash of something like scorn in her wonderful eyes. 
 
 Since her departure the scenery, in some un- 
 accountable way, seemed less attractive to him, 
 the songs of the birds, who were all awake, fell on 
 inattentive ears ; he was haunted by her face and 
 voice, and he was, moreover, a little out of humour 
 with himself for having been such a blunderer as 
 to give her offence, and thus leave an unfavour- 
 able impression on her mind. 
 
 " I suppose I icas rude," he considered after a 
 while. *' She seemed to think so, at any rate. By 
 Jove ! what a crushing look she gave me ! A 
 peasant ? Not she 1 If she had said she was an 
 
22 THELMA. 
 
 empress I shouldn't have been much surprised. 
 But a mere common peasant, with that regal 
 figure and those white hands! I don't beh'eve it. 
 Perhaps our pilot, Taldemar, knows who she is ; 
 I must ask him." 
 
 All at once he bethought himself of the cave 
 whence she had emerged. It was close at hand — 
 a natural grotto, arched and apparently lofty. 
 He resolved to explore it. Glancing at his watch 
 he saw it was not yet one o'clock in the morning, 
 yet the voice of the cuckoo called shrilly from 
 the neighbouring hills, and a circling group of 
 swallows flitted around him, their lovely wings 
 glistening like jewels in the warm light of the 
 ever- wakeful sun. Going to the entrance of the 
 cave, he looked in. It was formed of rough rock, 
 hewn out by the silent w^ork of the water, and 
 its floor was strewn thick w'ith loose pebbles and 
 polished stones. Entering it, he was able to walk 
 upright for some few paces, then suddenly it 
 seemed to shrink in size and to become darker* 
 The light from the opening gradually narrowed 
 into a slender stream too small for him to see 
 clearly where he w^as going, thereupon he struck 
 a fusee. At first he could observe no sisfn of 
 human habitation, not even a rope, or chain, or 
 hook, to intimate that it was a customary shelter 
 for a boat. The fusee went out quickly, and he 
 lit another. Looking more carefully and closely 
 about him, he perceived on a projecting shelf of 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 23 
 
 rock, a small antique lamp, Etruscan in sliape, 
 made of iron and wrought with curious letters. 
 There was oil in it, and a half-burnt wick ; it had 
 evidently been recently used. He availed himself 
 at once of this useful adjunct to his explorations, 
 and lighting it, was able by the clear and steady 
 flame it emitted, to see everything very distinctly. 
 Right before him was an uneven flight of steps 
 leading down to a closed door. 
 
 He paused and listened attentively. There was 
 no sound but the slow lapping of the w^ater near the 
 entrance ; within, the thickness of the cavern walls 
 shut out the gay carolling of the birds, and all the 
 cheerful noises of awakening nature. Silence, 
 chill ness, and partial obscurity are depressing 
 influences, and the warm blood flowing through 
 his veins, ran a trifle more slowly and coldly as 
 he felt the sort of uncomfortable eerie sensation 
 which is experienced by the jolliest and most 
 careless traveller, when he first goes down to 
 the catacombs in Rome. A sort of damp, earthy 
 shudder creeps through the system, and a dreary 
 f(.^eling of general hopelessness benumbs the facul- 
 ties ; a morbid state of body and mind which is 
 only to be remedied by a speedy return to the 
 warm sunlight, and a draught of generous wine. 
 
 Sir Philip, however, held the antique lamp aloft, 
 and descended the clumsy steps cautiously, count- 
 ing twenty steps in all, at the bottom of which 
 he found himself face to face with the closed door. 
 
24 THELMA. 
 
 It was made of hard wood, so hard as to be almost 
 like iron. It was black with age, and covered with 
 quaint carvings and inscriptions; but in the middle, 
 standing out in bold relief among the numberless 
 Eunic figures and devices, was written in large 
 well-cut letters the word — 
 
 '' By Jove ! " he exclaimed, " I have it ! The 
 girl's name, of course ! This is some private retreat 
 of hers, I suppose, — a kind of boudoir like my 
 Lady Winsleigh's, only with rather a difference," 
 
 And he laughed aloud, thinking of the dainty 
 gold-satin hangings of a certain room in a certain 
 great mansion in Park Lane, where an aristocratic 
 and handsome lady-leader of fashion had as nearly 
 made love to him as it was possible for her to do 
 without losing her social dignity. 
 
 His laugh was echoed back with a weird and 
 hollow sound, as though a hidden demon of the 
 cave were mocking him, a demon whose merri- 
 ment was intense but also horrible. He heard 
 the unpleasantly jeering repetition with a kind 
 of careless admiration. 
 
 " That echo would make a fortune in Faust, 
 if it could be persuaded to back up Mej^histopheles 
 with that truly fiendish 'iZa Aa/'" he said, resuming 
 his examination of the name on the door. Then 
 an odd fancy seized him, and he called loudlv — • 
 
 " Thelma ! " 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 25 
 
 " Thelma ! " shouted the echo. 
 
 " Is that her name ? " 
 
 ^' Her name ! " replied the echo. 
 
 " I thought so ! " And Phihp hxughed again, 
 while the echo laughed wildly in answer. " Just 
 the sort of name to suit a Norwegian nymph or 
 goddess. Thelma is quaint and appropriate, and 
 as far as I can remember there's no rhyme to it 
 in the English language. Thelma V And he 
 lingered on the pronunciation of the strange word 
 with a curious sensation of pleasure. " There is 
 something mysteriously suggestive about tlie 
 sound of it ; like a chord of music played softly 
 in the distance. Now, can I get through this 
 door, I wonder ? " 
 
 He pushed it gently. It yielded very slightly, 
 and he tried again and yet again. Finally, he put 
 down the lamp and set his shoulder against the 
 wooden barrier with all his force. A dull creaking 
 sound rewarded his efforts, and inch by inch the 
 huge door opened into what at first appeared 
 immeasurable darkness. Holding up the light 
 he looked in, and uttered a smothered exclama- 
 tion. A sudden gust of wind rushed from the 
 sea through the passage and extinguished the 
 lamp, leaving him in profound gloom. Nothing 
 daunted he sought his fusee case; there was just 
 one left in it. This he hastily struck, and shield- 
 ing the glow carefully witli one hand, relit his 
 lamp, and stepped boldly into the mysterious 
 grotto. 
 
26 THELMA. 
 
 The murmur of the wind and waves, like 
 spirit-voices in unison, followed him as he entered. 
 He found himself in a spacious winding corridor, 
 tliat had evidently been hollowed out in the rocks 
 and fashioned by human hands. Its construction 
 was after the ancient Gothic method ; but the 
 w^onder of the place consisted in the walls, which 
 were entirely covered with shells, — shells of every 
 shape and hue, — some delicate as rose-leaves, some 
 rough and prickly, others polished as ivory, some 
 gleaming with a thousand iridescent colours, others 
 pure white as the foam on high billows. Many of 
 them were turned artistically in such a position as 
 to show their inner sides o^listenino; with soft tints 
 like the shades of fine silk or satin, — others glittered 
 with the opaline sheen of mother-o'-pearl. All 
 were arranged in exquisite patterns, evidently 
 copied from fixed mathematical designs, — there 
 were stars, crescents, roses, sunflowers, hearts, 
 crossed daggers, ships and implements of war, all 
 faithfully depicted with extraordinary neatness 
 and care, as though each particular emblem had 
 served some special purpose. 
 
 Sir Philip w^alked along very slowly, delighted 
 with his discovery, and, — pausing to examine each 
 panel as he passed, — amused himself with specula- 
 tions as to the meaning of this beautiful cavern, 
 so fancifully yet skilfully decorated. 
 
 " Some old place of worship, I suppose," he 
 thought. " There must be many such hidden in 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDXIGHT SUN. 27 
 
 different parts of Norway. It has notliin<^ to do 
 with the Christian faith, for among all these 
 devices I don't perceive a single cross." 
 
 He was right. There were no crosses ; but there 
 were many designs of the sun — the sun rising, the 
 sun setting, the sun in full glory, with all his rays 
 embroidered round him in tiny shells, some of 
 them no bigger than a pin's head. 
 
 " What a waste of time and labour," he mused. 
 " Who would undertake such a thing nowadays ? 
 Fancy the patience and delicacy of finger required 
 to fit all these shells in their places ! and they are 
 embedded in strong mortar too, as if the work were 
 meant to be indestructible." 
 
 Full of pleased interest, he pursued his way, 
 winding in and out through different arches, all 
 more or less richly ornamented, till he came to a 
 tall, round column, which seemingly supported the 
 whole gallery, for all the arches converged towards 
 it. It was garlanded from top to bottom with 
 roses and their leaves, all worked in pink and lilac 
 shells, interspersed with small pieces of shining 
 amber and polished malachite. The flicker of the 
 lamp he carried, made it glisten like a mass of 
 jewel-work, and, absorbed in his close examination 
 of this unique specimen of ancient art. Sir Philip 
 did not at once perceive that another light beside 
 his own glimmered from out the furthest archway 
 a little beyond him, — an opening that led into some 
 recess he had not as yet explored. A peculiar 
 
28 TIIELMA. 
 
 lustre sparkling on one side of the shell-work 
 however, at last attracted his attention, and, 
 glancing up quickly, he saw, to his surprise, the 
 reflection of a strange radiance, rosily tinted and 
 brilliant. 
 
 Turning in its direction, he paused, irresolute. 
 Could there be some one living in that furthest 
 chamber to which the long passage he had followed 
 evidently led ? some one who would perhaps resent 
 his intrusion as an impertinence ? some eccentric 
 artist or hermit who had made the cave his home ? 
 Or was it perh-^ps a refuge for smugglers ? He 
 listened anxiously. There was no sound. He 
 waited a minute or two, then boldly advanced, 
 determined to solve the mystery. 
 
 This last archway was lower than any of those 
 he had passed through, and he was forced to take off 
 his hat and stoop as he went under it. When he 
 raised his head he remained uncovered, for he saw 
 at a glance that the place was sacred. He was in the 
 presence, not of Life, but Death. The chamber in 
 which he stood, was square in form, and more richly 
 ornamented with shell-designs than any other 
 portion of the grotto he had seen, and facing the 
 east, was an altar hewn out of the solid rock and 
 studded thickly with amber, malachite and mother- 
 o'-pearl. It was covered with the incomprehen- 
 sible emblems of a bygone creed worked in most 
 exquisite shell-patterns, but on it, — as though in 
 solemn protest against the past, — stood a crucifix 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 29 
 
 of ebony and carved ivory before which burned 
 steadily a red lamp. 
 
 The meaning of the mysterious light was thus 
 explained, but what chiefly interested Errington 
 was the central object of the place, — a coffin, — or 
 rather a plain granite sarcophagus which was 
 placed on the floor lying from north to south. 
 Upon it, — in strange contrast to the sombre coldness 
 of the stone, — reposed a large wreath of poppies 
 i'reshly gathered. The vivid scarlet of the flowers, 
 the gleam of the shining shells on the walls, the 
 raournfal figure of the ivory Christ stretched on 
 the cross among all those pagan emblems, — the 
 intense silence broken only by the slow drip, drip 
 of water trickling somewhere behind the cavern, — 
 and more than these outward things, — his own 
 impressive conviction that he was with the imperial 
 Dead — imperial because past the sway of empire — 
 all made a powerful impression on his mind. 
 (3vercoming by degrees his first sensations of awe, 
 he approached the sarcophagus and examined it. 
 It was solidly closed and mortared all round, so 
 that it might have been one compact coffin- shaped 
 block of stone so far as its outward appearance tes- 
 tified. Stooping more closely, however, to look at 
 the brilliant poppy-wreath, he started back with a 
 slight exclamation. Cut deeply in the hard granite 
 he read for the second time that odd name — 
 
30 THELMA. 
 
 It belonged to some one dead, then — not to the 
 lovely living woman who had so lately confronted 
 him in the burning glow of the midnight sun ? 
 He felt dismayed at his unthinking precipitation, 
 — he had, in his fancy, actually associated her^ so 
 full of radiant health and beauty, with what was 
 probably a mouldering corpse in that hermetically 
 sealed tenement of stone ! This idea was un- 
 pleasant, and jarred upon his feelings. Surely 
 she, that golden-haired nymph of the Fjord, had 
 nothing to do with death ! He had evidently 
 found his way into some ancient tomb. " Tlielma " 
 might be the name or title of some long-departed 
 queen or princess of Norway ; yet, if so, how 
 came the crucifix there, — the red lamp, the 
 flowers ? 
 
 He lingered, looking curiously about him, as 
 if he fancied the shell-embroidered walls might 
 whisper some answer to his thoughts. The silence 
 offered no suggestions. The plaintive figure of the 
 tortured Christ suspended on the cross maintained 
 an immovable watch over all things, and there was 
 a subtle, faint odour floating about as of crushed 
 spices or herbs. While he still stood there absorbed 
 in perplexed conjectures, he became oppressed by 
 want of air. The red hue of the poppy-wreath 
 mingled with the softer glow of the lamp on the 
 altar,— the moist glitter of the shells and polished 
 pebbles, seemed to dazzle and confuse his eyes. 
 He felt dizzy and faint, — and hastily made his way 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 31 
 
 out of that close cleatli-cliamber into the passage, 
 where he leaned for a few minutes against the 
 great central column to recover himself. A brisk 
 breath of wind from the Fjord came careering 
 through the gallery, and blew coldly upon his 
 forehead. Eefreshed by it, he rapidly overcame 
 the sensation of giddiness, and began to retrace 
 his steps through the winding arches, thinking 
 with some satisfaction as he went, what a romantic 
 incident he would have to relate to Lorimer and 
 his other friends, when a sudden glare of light 
 illumined the passage, and he was brought to 
 an abrupt stand-still by the sound of a wild 
 " Halloo ! " The light vanished ; it reappeared. 
 It vanished again, and again appeared, flinging 
 a strong flare upon the shell-worked walls as it 
 approached. Again the fierce " Halloo ! " re- 
 sounded through the hollow cavities of the sub- 
 terranean temple, and he remained motionless, 
 waiting for an explanation of this unlooked-for 
 turn to the events of the morning. 
 
 He had plenty of physical courage, and the 
 idea of any addition to his adventure rather 
 pleased him than otherwise. Still, with all his 
 bravery, he recoiled a little when he first caught 
 sight of the extraordinary being that emerged 
 from the darkness — a wild, distorted figure that 
 ran towards him with its head downwards, bearing 
 aloft in one skinny hand a smoking pine-torch, 
 from which the sparks flew like so many fireflies. 
 
32 TIIELMA. 
 
 This uncanny personage, wearing the semblance 
 of man, came within two paces of Errington before 
 perceiving him ; then, stopping short in his 
 headlong career, the creature flourished his torch 
 and uttered a defiant yell. 
 
 Philip surveyed him coolly and without alarm, 
 though so weird an object might well have 
 aroused a pardonable distrust, and even timidity. 
 He saw a misshapen dwarf, not quite four feet 
 high, with large, ungainly limbs out of all pro- 
 portion to his head, which was small and compact. 
 His features were of almost feminine fineness, and 
 from under his shaggy brows gleamed a restless 
 pair of large, full, wild blue eyes. His thick, rouD;h 
 flaxen hair was long and curly, and hung in dis- 
 ordered profusion over his deformed shoulders. 
 His dress was of reindeer skin, very fancifully 
 cut, and ornamented with beads of different 
 colours, — and twisted about him as though in an 
 effort to be artistic, was a long strip of bright 
 scarlet woollen material, which showed up the 
 extreme pallor and ill-health of the meagre coun- 
 tenance, and the brilliancy of the eyes that now 
 sparkled with rage as they met those of Errington. 
 He. from his superior height, glanced down with 
 pity on the unfortunate creature, whom he at 
 once took to be the actual owner of the cave he 
 had explored. Uncertain what to do, whether 
 to speak or remain silent, he moved slightly as 
 though to pass on; but the shock-headed dwarf 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 33 
 
 leaped ligbtly in his way, and, planting himself 
 firmly before him, shrieked some unintelligible 
 threat, of which Errington could only make out 
 the last words, " Nifleheim " and " Nastrond." 
 
 " I believe he is commending me to the old 
 Norwegian inferno,''' thought the young baronet 
 with a smile, amused at the little man's evident 
 excitement. " Yery polite of him, I'm sure ! But, 
 after all, I had no business here. I'd better 
 apologise." And forthwith he began to speak in 
 the simplest English words he could choose, taking 
 care to pronounce them very slowly and distinctly. 
 
 " I cannot understand you, my good sir ; but 
 I see you are angry. I came here by accident. 
 I am going away now at once." 
 
 His explanation had a strange effect. The 
 dwarf drew nearer, twirled himself rapidly round 
 three times as though waltzing ; then, holding his 
 torch a little to one side, turned up his thin, paJe 
 countenance, and, fixing his gaze on Sir Philip, 
 studied every feature of his face with absorbing 
 interest. Then he burst into a violent fit of 
 laughter. 
 
 " At last — at last ! " he cried in fluent English. 
 " Going now ? Going, you say ? Never ! never ! 
 You will never go away any more. No, not 
 without something stolen ! The dead have sum- 
 moned you here ! Their white bony fingers have 
 dragged you across the deep ! Did you not hear 
 their voices, cold and hollow as the winter wind, 
 
 VOL. I. 3 
 
34 THELMA. 
 
 calling, calling you, and saying,^ Come, come, proud 
 robber, from over tbe far seas ; come and gatber 
 tbe beautiful rose of tbe northern forest ' ? Yes, 
 yes ! You bave obeyed tbe dead — tbe dead wbo 
 feign sleep, but are ever wakeful ; — you bave come 
 as a tbief in tbe golden midnigbt, and tbe tbing 
 you seek is tbe life of Sigurd 1 Yes — yes ! it is 
 true. Tbe spirit cannot lie. You must kill, you 
 must steal ! See bow tbe blood drips, drop by 
 drop, from tbe beart of Sigurd ! And tbe jewel 
 you steal — ab, wbat a jewel ! — you sball not find 
 sucb anotber in Norway ! " 
 
 His excited voice sank by degrees to a plain- 
 tive and forlorn wbisper, and dropping bis torch 
 w-itb a gesture of despair on tbe ground, be looked 
 at it burning, with an air of mournful and utter 
 desolation. Profoundly touched, as be imme- 
 diately understood tbe condition of bis companion's 
 wandering wits, Errington spoke to him sooth- 
 ingly. 
 
 " You mistake me," be said in gentle accents ; 
 '' I would not steal anything from you, nor have 
 I come to kill you. See," and be held out his 
 hand, '' I wouldn't harm you for the world. I 
 didn't know this cave belonged to you. Forgive 
 me for having entered it. 1 am going to rejoin 
 my friends. Good-bye ! " 
 
 Tbe strange, half-crazy creature touched his 
 outstretched hand timidly and with a sort of 
 appeal. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 35 
 
 " Good-bye, good-bye ! " be muttered. " That 
 is wbat tbey all say, — even the dead, — good-bye ; 
 but tbey never go — never, never ! You cannot 
 be different to the rest. And you do not wish to 
 burt poor Sigurd ? " 
 
 '' Certainly not, if you are Sigurd," said Philip, 
 balf laugbing ; " I should be very sorry to bun 
 you." 
 
 " You are sure f " he persisted, witb a sort of 
 obstinate eagerness. " You bave eyes whicb tell 
 truths ; but there are otber things wbicb are 
 truer than eyes — things in the air, in the grass, 
 in the waves, and they talk very strangely of you. 
 I know you, of course ! I knew you ages ago — 
 long before I saw you dead on the field of battle, 
 and the black-haired Valkyrie galloped witb you 
 to Yalballa ! Yes ; I knew you long before that, 
 and you knew me ; for I was your King, and you 
 were my vassal, wild and rebellious — not the 
 proud, ricb Englishman you are to-day." 
 
 Errington started. How could tbis Sigurd, 
 as be called himself, be aware of either his wealth 
 or nationality ? 
 
 The dwarf observed his movement of surprise 
 witb a cunning smile. 
 
 " Sigurd is wise, — Sigurd is brave ! Who shall 
 deceive bim ? He knows you well ; be will always 
 know you. The old gods teach Sigurd all his 
 wisdom — the gods of the sea and the wind — the 
 sleepy gods that lie in the bearts of the flowers — 
 
36 THELMA. 
 
 the small spirits that sit in shells and sing all day 
 and all night." He paused, and his eyes filled 
 with a wistful look of attention. He drew closer. 
 
 *' Come," he said earnestly, " come, you must 
 listen to my music ; perhaps you can tell me w^hat 
 it means." 
 
 He picked up his smouldering torch and held 
 it aloft again; then, beckoning Errington to follow 
 him, he led the way to a small grotto, cut deeply 
 into the wall of the cavern. Here there were no 
 shell patterns. Little green ferns grew thickly 
 out of the stone crevices, and a minute runlet of 
 water trickled slowly down from above, freshen- 
 ing the delicate frondage as it fell. With quick, 
 agile fingers he removed a loose stone from this 
 aperture, and as he did so, a low shuddering wail 
 resounded through the arches — a melancholy 
 moan that rose and sank, and rose again in weird, 
 sorrowful minor echoes. 
 
 " Hear her," murmured Sigurd plaintively. 
 "" She is always complaining ; it is a pity she 
 cannot rest ! She is a spirit, you know. I have 
 often asked her what troubles her, but she will 
 not tell me ; she only w^eeps ! " 
 
 His companion looked at him compassionately. 
 The sound that so affected his disordered imagina- 
 tion was nothing but the wind blowing through 
 the narrow hole formed by the removal of the 
 stone ; but it was useless to explain this simple 
 fact to one in his condition. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 37 
 
 " Tell me," and Sir Philip spoke very gently, 
 " is this your home ? " 
 
 The dwarf surveyed him almost scornfully. 
 " My home ! " he echoed. " My home is every- 
 where — on the mountains, in the forests, on the 
 black rocks and barren shores! My soul lives 
 between the sun and the sea ; my heart is with 
 Thehna ! " 
 
 Thelma ! Here was perhaps a clue to the 
 mystery. 
 
 " Who is Thelma ? " asked Errington some- 
 what hurriedly. 
 
 Sigurd broke into violent and derisive laugh- 
 ter. "• Do you think I will tell you 1 " he cried 
 loudly. '' You^ — one of that strong, cruel race who 
 must conquer all they see ; who covet everything 
 fair under heaven, and will buy it, even at the 
 cost of blood and tears ! Do you think I will 
 unlock the door of my treasure to you ? No, no ; 
 besides," and his voice sank lower, " what should 
 you do with Thelma ? She is dead ! " 
 
 And, as if possessed by a sudden access of 
 frenzy, he brandished his pine-torch wildly above 
 his head till it showered a rain of bright sparks 
 above him, and exclaimed furiously — 
 
 '' Away, away, and trouble me not ! The 
 days are not yet fulfilled, — the time is not yet ripe. 
 Why seek to hasten my end ? Away, away, I 
 tell you ! Leave me in peace ! I will die when 
 Thelma bids me ; but not till then ! " 
 
38 THELMA. 
 
 And he rushed down the long gallery and dis- 
 ajDpeared in the furthest chamber, where he gave 
 vent to a sort of long sobbing cry, which rang 
 dolefully through the cavern and then subsided 
 into utter silence. 
 
 Feeling as if he were in a chaotic dream, 
 Errington pursued his interrupted course through 
 the winding passages with a bewildered and won- 
 dering mind. What strange place had he inad- 
 vertently lighted on ? and who were the still 
 stranger beings in connection with it ? First the 
 beautiful girl herself; next the mysterious coffin, 
 hidden in its fanciful shell temple ; and now this 
 deformed madman, with the pale face and fine 
 eyes ; whose utterances, though incoherent, sa- 
 voured somewhat of poesy and prophecy. And 
 what spell was attached to that name of Thelma ? 
 The more he thought of his morning's adventure, 
 the more puzzled he became. As a rule, he be- 
 lieved more in the commonplace than in the 
 romantic — most people do. But truth to tell, 
 romance is far more common than the common- 
 place. There are few who have not, at one time 
 or other of their lives, had some strange or tragic 
 episode woven into the tissue of their every-day 
 existence ; and it would be difficult to find one 
 person, even among hum-drum individuals, who, 
 from birth to death, has experienced nothing out 
 of the common. 
 
 Errington generally dismissed all tales of 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 39 
 
 adventure as mere exaggerations of heated fancy ; 
 and, had he read in some book, of a respectable 
 nineteenth-century yachtsman having such an 
 interview with a madman in a sea-cavern, he 
 would have laughed at the affair as an utter 
 improbability, though he could not have explained 
 why he considered it improbable. But now it 
 had occurred to himself, he was both surprised and 
 amused at the whole circumstance ; moreover, he 
 was sufficiently interested and curious to be 
 desirous of sifting the matter to its foundation. 
 
 It was, however, somewhat of a relief to him 
 when he again reached the outer cavern. He 
 replaced the lamp on the shelf where he had 
 found it, and stepped once more into the brilliant 
 light of the very early dawn, which then had all 
 the splendour of full morning. There was a 
 dellciously balmy wind, the blue sky was musical 
 with a chorus of larks, and every breath of air 
 that waved aside the long grass sent forth a 
 thousand odours from hidden beds of wild thyme 
 and bog-myrtle. 
 
 He perceived the Eulalie at anchor in her old 
 place on the Fjord ; she had returned while he was 
 absent on his explorations. Gathering together 
 his rug and painting materials, he blew a whistle 
 sharply three times ; he was answered from the 
 yacht, and presently a boat, manned by a couple 
 of sailors, came skimming over the water towards 
 him. It soon reached the shore, and, entering it, 
 
40 THELMA. 
 
 he was speedily rowed away from the scene of his 
 raorning's experience back to his floating palace, 
 where, as yet, none of his friends were stirring. 
 
 " How about Jedke ? " he inquired of one of 
 his men. " Did they climb it ? " 
 
 A slow grin overspread the sailor's brown face. 
 
 "Lord bless you, no, sir! Mr. Lorimer, he 
 just looked at it and sat down in the shade ; 
 the other gentleman played pitch-and-toss with 
 pebbles. They was main hungry too, and ate a 
 mighty sight of 'am and pickles. Then they 
 came on board and all turned in at once." 
 
 Errington laughed. He was amused at the 
 utter failure of Lorimer 's recent sudden energy, 
 but not surprised. His thoughts were, however, 
 busied with something else, and he next asked — 
 
 " Where's our pilot ? " 
 
 " Yaldemar Svensen, sir ? He went down to 
 his bunk as soon as we anchored, for a snooze, he 
 said." 
 
 " All right. If he comes on deck before I do, 
 just tell him not to go ashore for anything till I 
 see him. I want to speak to him after breakfast." 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir." 
 
 Whereupon Sir Philip descended to his private 
 cabin. He drew the blind at the port-hole to 
 shut out the dazzling sunlight, for it was nearly 
 three o'clock in the morning, and quickly undress- 
 ing, he flung himself into his berth with a slight, 
 not altogether unpleasant, feeling of exhaustion. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 41 
 
 To the last, as his eyes closed drowsily, he seemed 
 to hear the slow drip, drip of the water behind the 
 rocky cavern, and the desolate cry of the incom- 
 prehensible Sigurd, while through these sounds 
 that mingled with the gurgle of little waves 
 lapping against the sides of the Eulalie, the name 
 of " Thelma " murmured itself in his ears till 
 slumber drowned his senses in oblivion. 
 
42 TUELMA. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " Hast any mortal name, 
 Fit ajDpellation for this dazzling frame, 
 Or friends or kinsfolk on the citied earth ? " 
 
 Keats. 
 
 " This is positively absurd," murmured Lorimer, 
 in mildly injured tones, seven hours later, as he 
 sat on the edge of his berth, surveying Errington, 
 who, fully dressed and in the highest spirits, had 
 burst in to upbraid him for his laziness while he 
 w^as yet but scantily attired. ''I tell you, my 
 good fellow, there are some things which the 
 utmost stretch of friendship will not stand. Here 
 am I in shirt and trousers with only one sock on, 
 and you dare to say you have had an adventure ! 
 Why, if you had cut a piece out of the sun, you 
 ought to wait till a man is shaved before mention - 
 iug it." 
 
 " Don't be snappish, old boy ! " laughed 
 Errington gaily. " Put on that other sock and 
 listen. I don't want to tell those other fellows 
 just yet, they might go making inquiries about 
 her " 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 43 
 
 " Oh, there is a ' her ' in the case, is there ? " 
 said Lorimer, opening his eyes rather widely. 
 " Well, Phil ! I thought you had had enough, 
 and something too much, of women." 
 
 " This is not a woman ! " declared PhiHp with 
 heat and eagerness, "at least not the sort of 
 woman I have ever known ! This is a forest- 
 empress, sea-goddess, or sun-angel ! I don't know 
 ivhat she is, upon my life ! " 
 
 Lorimer regarded him with an air of re- 
 proachful offence. 
 
 '' Don't go on — please don't ! " he implored. 
 " I can't stand it— I really can't ! Incipient verse- 
 mania is too much for me. Forest-empress, sea- 
 goddess, sun-angel — by Jove ! what next ? You 
 are evidently in a very bad way. If I remember 
 rightly, you had a flask of that old green 
 Chartreuse with you. Ah ! that accounts for it I 
 Nice stuff, but a little too strong." 
 
 Errington laughed, and, unabashed by his 
 friend's raillery, proceeded to relate with much 
 vivacity and graphic fervour the occurrences of 
 the morning. Lorimer listened patiently with a 
 forbearing smile on his open, ruddy countenance. 
 When he had heard everything he looked up and 
 inquired calmly — 
 
 " This is not a yarn, is it ? " 
 
 " A yarn ! " exclaimed Philip. " Do you think 
 I would invent such a thing ? " 
 
 " Can't say," returned Lorimer imperturbably. 
 
44 THELMA. 
 
 " You are quite capable of it. It's a very credit- 
 able crammer, due to Chartreuse. Might have 
 been designed by Yictor Hugo ; it's in his style. 
 Scene, Norway — midnight. Mysterious maiden 
 steals out of a cave and glides away in a boat over 
 the water ; man, the hero, goes into cave, finds 
 a stone coffin, says — ' Qu'est-ce que c'est ? Dieu ! 
 C'est la mort ! ' Spectacle affreux ! Staggers back 
 perspiring ; meets mad dwarf with torch ; mad 
 dwarf talks a good deal — mad people always do, — 
 then yells and runs away. Man comes out of cave 
 and — and — goes home to astonish his friends; 
 one of them won't be astonished, — that's me ! " 
 
 '' I don't care," said Errington. '' It's a true 
 story for all that. Only, I say, don't talk of it 
 before the others ; let's keep our own counsel " 
 
 " No poachers allowed on the Sun- Angel 
 Manor!" interrupted Lorimer gravely. Philip 
 went en without heeding him. 
 
 " I'll question Yaldemar Svensen after break- 
 fast. He knows everybody about here. Come 
 and have a smoke on deck when I give you the 
 sign, and we'll cross-examine him." 
 
 Lorimer still looked incredulous. " What's 
 the good of it ? " he inquired languidly. " Even 
 if it's all true you had much better leave this 
 goddess, or whatever you call her, alone, especially 
 if she has any mad connections. What do you 
 want with her ? " 
 
 " Nothing ! " declared Errington, though his 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUX. 45 
 
 colour heightened. " Nothing, I assure you ! 
 It's just a matter of curiosity with me. I should 
 like to know who she is — that's all ! The affair 
 won't go any further." 
 
 *' How do you know ? " and Lorimer began 
 to brush his stiff curly hair with a sort of vicious 
 vigour. " How can you tell ? I'm not a 
 spiritualist, nor any sort of a humbug at all, I 
 hope, but I sometimes indulge in presentiments. 
 Before we started on this cruise, I was haunted 
 by that dismal old ballad of Sir Patrick Spens — 
 
 ' The King's daughter of Xorroway 
 'Tis thou maun bring her hame ! ' 
 
 And here you have found her, or so it appears. 
 What's to come of it, I wonder ? " 
 
 " Nothing's to come of it ; nothing will come 
 of it ! " laughed Philip. " As I told you, she said 
 she was a peasant. There's the breakfast-bell ! 
 Make haste, old boy, I'm as hungry as a hunter ! " 
 
 And he left his friend to finish dressing, and 
 entered the saloon, where he greeted his two other 
 companions, Alec, or, as he was oftener called, 
 Sandy Macfarlane, and Pierre Duprez ; the former 
 an Oxford student, — the latter a young fellow 
 whose acquaintance he had made in Paris, and 
 with whom he had kept up a constant and friendly 
 intercourse. A greater contrast than these two 
 presented could scarcely be imagined. Macfarlane 
 was tall and ungainly, with large loose joints that 
 
46 THELMA. 
 
 seemed to protrude angularly out of him in every 
 direction, — Duprez was short, slight and wiry, 
 with a dapper and by no means ungraceful figure. 
 The one had formal gauche manners, a never-to-Le- 
 eradicated Glasgow accent, and a slow, infinitely 
 tedious method of expressing himself, — the other 
 was full of restless movement and pantomimic 
 gesture, and being proud of his English, plunged 
 into that language recklessly, making it curiously 
 light and flippant, though picturesque, as he went. 
 Macfarlane was destined to become a shining 
 light of the established Church of Scotland, and 
 therefore took life very seriously, — Duprez was 
 the spoilt only child of an eminent French banker, 
 and had very little to do but eujoy himself, and 
 that he did most thoroughly, without any cal- 
 culation or care for the future. On all points of 
 taste and opinion they differed widely ; but there 
 was no doubt about their both being good-hearted 
 fellows, without any affectation of abnormal vice 
 or virtue. 
 
 " So you did not climb Jedke after all ! " 
 remarked Errington laughingly, as they seated 
 themselves at the breakfast table. 
 
 " My friend, what would you ! " cried Duprez. 
 " I have not said that I will climb it ; no ! I 
 never say that I will do anything, because I'm 
 not sure of myself. How can I be ? It is that 
 cher enfant^ Lorimer, that said such brave words ! 
 See ! ... we arrive; we behold the shore — all black, 
 great, vast ! . . . rocks like needles, and, higher than 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 47 
 
 all, this most fierce Jedke — bah ! what a name! — 
 straight as the spire of a cathedral. One must 
 be a fly to crawl up it, and we, we are not flies — 
 ma foi ! no ! Lorimer, he laugh, he yawn — so ! 
 He say, ' not for me to-day ; I very much thank 
 you ! ' And then, we watch the sun. Ah ! that 
 was grand, glorious, beautiful ! " And Duprez 
 kissed the tips of his fingers in ecstacy. 
 
 '' What did i/ou think about it, Sandy ? " asked 
 Sir Philip. 
 
 " I didna think much," responded Macfarlane, 
 shortly. " It's no sae grand a sight as a sunset in 
 Skye. And it's an uncanny business to see the 
 sun losin' a' his poonctooality, and remainin' stock 
 still, as it were, when it's his plain duty to set 
 below the horizon. Mysel', I think it's been fair 
 over-rated. It's unnatural an' oot o' the common, 
 say what ye like." 
 
 *' Of course it is," agreed Lorimer, who just 
 then sauntered in from his cabin. " Nature is 
 most unnatural. I always thought so. Tea for 
 me, Phil, please ; coffee wakes me up too suddenly. 
 I say, what's the programme to-day ? " 
 
 " Fishing in the Alten," answered Errington 
 promptly. 
 
 " That suits me perfectly," said Lorimer, as he 
 leisurely sipped his tea. " I'm an excellent fisher. 
 I hold the line and generally forget to bait it. 
 Then, — while it trails harmlessly in the water, I 
 doze ; thus both the fish and I are happy." 
 
48 THELMA. 
 
 " And this evening'," went on Errington, " we 
 must return the minister's call. He's been to the 
 yacht twice. We're bound to go out of common 
 politeness.'^ 
 
 " Spare us, good Lord ! " groaned Lorimer. 
 
 " What a delightfully fat man is that good 
 religious ! " cried Duprez. " A living proof of the 
 healthiness of Norway ! " 
 
 " He's not a native," put in Macfarlane ; " he's 
 frae' Yorkshire. He's only been a matter of 
 three months here, filling the place o' the settled 
 meenister who's awa' for a change of air." 
 
 " He's a precious specimen of a humbug, 
 anyhow," sighed Lorimer drearily. " However, 
 I'll be civil to him as long as he doesn't ask me to 
 hear him preach. At that suggestion I'll fight 
 him. He's soft enough to bruise easily." 
 
 " Ye're just too lazy to fight onybody," declared 
 Macfarlane. 
 
 Lorimer smiled sweetly. " Thanks, awfully ! 
 I dare say you're right. I've never found it worth 
 while as yet to exert myself in any particular 
 direction. No one has asked me to exert myself; 
 no one wants me to exert myself; therefore, why 
 should I ? " 
 
 " Don't ye want to get on in the world ? " 
 asked Macfarlane, almost brusquely. 
 
 " Dear me, no ! What an exhausting idea ! 
 Get on in the world — what for ? I have fivQ 
 hundred a year, and when my mother goes over 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 49 
 
 to the majority, (long distant be that day, for I'm 
 very fond of the dear old lady,) I shall have five 
 thousand — more than enough to satisfy any sane 
 man who doesn't want to speculate on the Stock 
 Exchange. Your case, my good Mac, is different. 
 You will be a celebrated Scotch divine. You will 
 preach to a crowd of pious numskulls about pre- 
 destination, and so forth. You will be stump- 
 orator for the securing of seats in paradise. Now, 
 now, keep calm ! — don't mind me. It's only a 
 figure of speech ! And the numskulls will call you 
 a ' rare powerfu' rousin' preacher ' — isn't that the 
 way they go on ? and when you die — for die you 
 must, most unfortunately — they will give you a 
 three-cornered block of granite (if they can make 
 up their minds to part with the necessary baw- 
 bees) with your name prettily engraved thereon. 
 That's all very nice ; it suits some people. It 
 wouldn't 3uit me." 
 
 '' What would suit you?" queried Errington. 
 '' You find everything more or less of a bore." 
 
 " Ah, my good little boy ! " broke in Duprez. 
 " Paris is the place for you. You should live in 
 Paris. Of that you would never fatigue your- 
 self." 
 
 " Too much absinthe, secret murder and 
 suicidal mania," returned Lorimer, meditatively. 
 " That was a neat idea about the coffins though. 
 I never hoped to dine off a coffin." 
 
 " Ah ! you mean the Taverne de FEnfer ? " 
 
 VOL. I. 4 
 
50 THELMA. 
 
 exclaimed Duprez. '' Yes ; the divine waitresses 
 wore winding sheets, and the wine was served in 
 imitation skulls. Excellent! I remember; the 
 tables were shaped like coffins." 
 
 " Gude Lord Almighty ! " piously murmured 
 Macfarlane. " What a fearsome sicht ! " 
 
 As he pronounced these words with an un- 
 usually marked accent, Duprez looked inquiring. 
 *' What does our Macfarlane say ? " 
 " He says it must have been a ' fearsome 
 sicht,' repeated Lorimer, with even a stronger 
 accent than Sandy's own, " which, mon cher Pierre, 
 means all the horrors in your language ; affreux, 
 ejyouvantaUe, navrant — anything you like, that is 
 sufficiently terrible." 
 
 " Mais^ point du tout ! " cried Duprez energe- 
 tically. " It was charming ! It made us laugh 
 at death — so much better than to cry ! And there 
 was a delicious child in a winding-sheet ; brown 
 curls, laughing eyes and little mouth; ha, ha! 
 but she was well worth kissing ! " 
 
 " I'd rather follow ma own funeral, than kiss 
 a lass in a winding-sheet," said Sandy, in solemn 
 and horrified tones. " It's just awfu' to think on." 
 
 " But, see, my friend," persisted Duprez, 
 " vou would not be permitted to follow your own 
 funeral, not possible, — voila ! You ar^ permitted 
 to kiss the pretty one in the winding-sheet. It 
 is possible. Behold the difference ! " 
 
 "Never mind the Taverne de I'Enfer just 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 51 
 
 now," said Errington, who had finished his 
 breakfast hurriedly. " It's time for you fellows 
 to get your fishing toggery on. I'm off to speak 
 to the pilot." 
 
 And away he went, followed more slowly by 
 Lorimer, who, though he pretended indifference, 
 was rather curious to know more, if possible, 
 concerning his friend's adventure of the morning. 
 They found the pilot, Yaldemar Svensen, leaning 
 at his ease against the idle wheel, with his face 
 turned towards the eastern sky. He was a stal- 
 wart specimen of Norse manhood, tall and strongly 
 built, with thoughtful, dignified features, and 
 keen, clear hazel eyes. His chestnut hair, plenti- 
 fully sprinkled with gray, clustered thickly over 
 a broad brow, that was deeply furrowed with 
 many a line of anxious and speculative thought, 
 and the forcible brown hand that rested lightly 
 on the spokes of the wheel, told its own tale of 
 hard and honest labour. Neither wife nor child, 
 nor living relative had Yaldemar; the one passion 
 of his heart was the sea. Sir Philip Erringtou 
 had engaged him at Christiansund, hearing of 
 him tliere as a man to whom the intricacies of 
 the Fjords, and the dangers of rock-bound coasts, 
 were more familiar than a straight road on dry 
 land, and since then the management of the Eulalit' 
 had been entirely entrusted to him. Though 
 an eminently practical sailor, he was half a mystic, 
 and believed in the wildest legends of his land 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ItMN©'** 
 
52 THELMA. 
 
 with more implicit faith than many so-called 
 Christians believe in their sacred doctrines. He 
 doffed his red cap respectfully now as Erring-ton 
 and Lorimer approached, smilingly wishing them 
 "a fair day." Sir Philip offered him a cigar, 
 and, coming to the point at once, asked abruptly — 
 
 " I say, Svensen, are there any pretty girls in 
 Bosekop ? " 
 
 The pilot drew the newly lit cigar from his 
 mouth, and passed his rough hand across his 
 forehead in a sort of grave perplexity. 
 
 *' It is a matter in which I am foolish," he said 
 at last, " for my ways have always gone far from 
 the ways of women. Girls there are plenty, I 
 
 suppose, but " he mused with pondering 
 
 patience for awhile. Then a broad smile broke like 
 sunshine over his embrowned countenance, as he 
 continued, "Now, gentlemen, I do remember well, 
 it is said that at Bosekop yonder, are to be found 
 some of the homeliest wenches in all Norway." 
 
 Errington's face fell at this reply. Lorimer 
 turned away to hide the mischievous smile that 
 came on his lips at his friend's discomfiture. 
 
 " I hiow it was that Chartreuse," he thought 
 to himself. " That and the midnight sun-effects. 
 Nothing else ! " 
 
 "What ! " went on Philip. " No good-looking 
 girls at all about here, eh ? " 
 
 Svensen shook his head, still smilingly. 
 
 " Not at Bosekop, sir, that I ever heard of." 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 53 
 
 " I say ! " broke in Lorimer, " Are there any 
 old tombs or sea-caves, or places of that sort close 
 by, worth exploring ? " 
 
 Yaldemar Svensen answered this question 
 readily, almost eagerly. 
 
 " No, sir ! There are no antiquities of any 
 sort ; and as for caves, there are plenty, but only 
 the natural formations of the sea, and none of 
 these are curious or beautiful on this side of the 
 Fjord." 
 
 Lorimer poked his friend secretly in the ribs. 
 
 " You've been dreaming, old fellow ! " he 
 whispered slyly. '' I knew it was a crammer ! " 
 
 Errington shook him off good-humouredly. 
 
 " Can you tell me," he said, addressing Yal- 
 demar again in distinct accents, " whether there 
 is any place, person, or thing near here called 
 Thehna f " 
 
 The pilot started ; a look of astonishment and 
 fear came into his eyes ; his hand went instinc- 
 tively to his red cap, as though in deference to 
 the name. 
 
 *' The Froken Thelma ! " he exclaimed, in low 
 tones. " Is it possible that you have seen her ? " 
 
 "Ah, George, what do you say now?" cried 
 Errington delightedly. " Yes, yes, Yaldemar ; the 
 Froken Thelma, as you call her. Who is she ? . . . 
 What is she ? — and how can there be no pretty 
 girls in Bosekop if such a beautiful creature as 
 she lives there ? " 
 
54 THELMA. 
 
 Yaldemar looked troubled and vexed. 
 
 " Truly, I thought not of the maiden," he said 
 gravely. " 'Tis not for me to speak of the 
 daughter of Olaf," here his voice sank a little, 
 and his face grew more and more sombre. 
 " Pardon rae, sir, but how did you meet her ? " 
 
 " By accident," replied Errington promptly, 
 not caring to relate his morning's adventure for 
 the pilot's benefit. ^' Is she some great personage 
 here ? " 
 
 Svensen sighed, and smiled somewhat du- 
 biously. 
 
 " Great ? Oh, no ; not what you would call 
 great. Her father, Olaf Grtildmar, is a bonde, — that 
 is, a farmer in his own right. He has a goodly 
 house, and a few fair acres well planted and tilled, — 
 also he pays his men freely, — but those that work 
 for him are all he sees, — neither he nor his daughter 
 ever visit the town. They dwell apart, and have 
 nothing in common with their neighbours." 
 
 " And where do they live ? " asked Lorimer, 
 becoming as interested as he had formerly been 
 incredulous. 
 
 The pilot leaned lightly over the rail of the 
 deck and pointed towards the west. 
 
 " You see that great rock shaped like a giant's 
 helmet, and behind it a high green knoll, clustered 
 thick with birch and pine ? " 
 
 They nodded assent. 
 
 " At the side of the knoll is the hondes house, 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 55 
 
 a good eight-mile walk from the outskirts of 
 Bosekop. Should you ever seek to rest there, 
 gentlemen," and Svensen spoke with quiet reso- 
 lution, "I doubt whether you will receive a 
 pleasant welcome." 
 
 And he looked at them both with an inquisi- 
 tive air, as though seeking to discover their 
 intentions. 
 
 " Is that so ? " drawled Lorimer lazily, giving 
 his friend an expressive nudge. "Ah! TF^ shant 
 trouble them ! Thanks for your information, 
 Yaldemar ! We don't intend to hunt up the — 
 what d'ye call him ? — the bonds, if he's at all 
 surly. Hospitality that gives you greeting and 
 a dinner for nothing, — that's what suits m^." 
 
 " Our people are not without hospitality," said 
 the pilot^ with a touch of wistful and appealing 
 dignity. " All along your journey, gentlemen, 
 you have been welcomed gladly, as you know. 
 But Olaf Giildmar is not like the rest of us, he 
 has the pride and fierceness 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 Yaldemar 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 Ilerren wish to sail to-day ? " 
 
56 THELMA. 
 
 " No, Valdemar," answered Errlngton indif- 
 ferently. " Not till to-morrow, when we'll visit 
 the Kaa Pjord if the weather keeps fair." 
 
 " Yery 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 cofSn 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, w^th a laugh. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 57 
 
 " 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 colour 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 honde 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, endeavour to crush the noblest and 
 best emotions that ever warm the boo-zum of 
 man ? Cliivalrous sentiment and admiration for 
 beauty, — chivalrous desire to pursue it and catch it 
 and call it your own, — I understand it all, my dear 
 boy ! But my prophetic soul tells me you will have 
 to strangle the excellent Olaf Guldmar — heavens! 
 what a name ! — before you will be allowed to make 
 love to his fair chee-ild. Then don't forget the 
 madman with the torch, — he may turn up in the 
 most unexpected fashion and give you no end of 
 trouble. But, by Jove, it is a romantic affair, 
 positively quite stagey ! Something will come of it, 
 serious or comic. I wonder which ? " 
 
 Errington laughed, but said nothing in reply, 
 as their two companions ascended from the cabin 
 
58 THELMA. 
 
 at that moment, in full attire for the fishing ex- 
 pedition, followed by the steward bearing a large 
 basket of provisions for luncheon, — and all private 
 conversation came to an end. Hastening the rest 
 of their preparations, within twenty minutes they 
 were skimming across the Fjord in a long boat 
 manned by four sailors, who rowed with a will and 
 sent the light craft scudding through the water 
 with the swiftness of an arrow. Landing, they 
 climbed the dewy hills spangled thick with forget- 
 me-nots and late violets, till they reached a shady 
 and secluded part of the river, where, surrounded 
 by the songs of hundreds of sweet-throated birds, 
 they commenced their sport, which kept them well 
 employed till a late hour in the afternoon. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 59 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 '• Thou art violently carried away from grace ; there is a devil 
 haunts thee in the likeness of a fat old man, — a tun of man is thy 
 companion." — Shakespeare. 
 
 The Reverend Charles Dycewortby sat alone in 
 the small dining-room of his house at Bosekop, 
 finishing a,late tea, and disposing of round after 
 round of hot buttered toast with that suave alacrity 
 he always displayed in the consumption of succu- 
 lent eatables. He was a largely made man, very 
 much on the wrong side of fifty, with accumula- 
 tions of unwholesome fat on every available portion 
 of his body. His round face was cleanly shaven and 
 shiny, as though its flabby surface were frequently 
 polished with some sort of luminous grease instead 
 of the customary soap. His mouth was absurdly 
 small and pursy for so broad a countenance, — his 
 nose seemed endeavouring to retreat behind his 
 puffy cheeks as though painfully aware of its own 
 insignificance, — and he had little, sharp, ferret-like 
 eyes of a dull mahogany brown, which were 
 utterly destitute of even the faintest attempt at 
 
60 THELMA. 
 
 any actual expression. They were more like glass 
 beads than eyes, and glittered under their scanty 
 fringe of pale-coloured lashes with a sort of shallow 
 cunning which might mean malice or good-humour, 
 — no one looking at them could precisely determine 
 which. His hair was of an indefinite shade, 
 neither light nor dark, somewhat of the tinge of a 
 dusty potato before it is washed clean. It was 
 neatly brushed and parted in the middle with 
 mathematical precision, while from the back of his 
 head it was brought forward in two projections, 
 one on each side, like budding wings behind his 
 ears. It was impossible for the most fastidious 
 critic to find fault with the Reverend Mr. Dyce- 
 worthy's hands. He had beautiful hands, white, 
 soft, plump and well-shaped, — his delicate filbert 
 nails were trimmed with punctilious care, and 
 shone with a pink lustre that was positively 
 charming. He was evidently an amiable man, for 
 he smiled to himself over his tea, — he had a trick of 
 smiling, — ill-natured people said he did it on 
 purpose, in order to widen his mouth and make it 
 more in proportion to the size of his face. Such 
 remarks, however, emanated only from the spiteful 
 and envious who could not succeed in winning the 
 social popularity that everywhere attended Mr. 
 Dyceworthy's movements. For he was undoubt- 
 edly popular, — no one could deny that. In the 
 small Yorkshire town where he usually had his 
 abode, he came little short of being adored by the 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 61 
 
 women of his own particular sect, who crowded to 
 h'sten to his fervent discourses, and came away 
 from them on the verge of hysteria, so profoundly 
 moved were their sensitive souls by his damnatory 
 doctrines. The men were more reluctant in their 
 admiration, yet even they were always ready to 
 admit " that he was an excellent fellow, with his 
 heart in the right place." 
 
 He had a convenient way of getting ill at the 
 proper seasons, and of requiring immediate change 
 of air, whereupon his grateful flock were ready and 
 willing to subscribe the money necessary for their 
 beloved preacher to take repose and relaxation in 
 any part of the world he chose. This year, however, 
 they had not been asked to furnish the usual funds 
 for travelling expenses, for the resident minister of 
 Bosekop, a frail, gentle old man, had been seriously 
 prostrated during the past winter with an affection 
 of the lungs, which necessitated his going to a 
 different climate for change and rest. Knowing 
 Dyceworthy as a zealous member of the Lutheran 
 persuasion, and, moreover, as one who had in his 
 youth lived for some years in Christiania, — thereby 
 gaining a knowledge of the Norwegian tongue, — he 
 invited him to take his place for his enforced time 
 of absence, offering him his house, his servants, his 
 pony-carriage and an agreeable pecuniary douceur 
 in exchange for his services, — proposals which the 
 Reverend Charles eagerly accepted. Though 
 Norway was not exactly new to him, the region of 
 
62 THELMA. 
 
 the Alten Fjord was, and he at once felt, though 
 he knew not why, that the air there would be the 
 very thing to benefit his delicate constitution. 
 Besides, it looked well for at least one occasion, to 
 go away for the summer without asking his con- 
 gregation to pay for his trip. It was generous on 
 his part, almost noble. 
 
 The ladies of his flock wept at his departure and 
 made him socks, comforters, slippers, and other 
 consoling gear of the like description to recall their 
 sweet memories to his saintly mind during his 
 absence from their society. But, truth to tell, Mr. 
 Dyceworthy gave little thought to these fond and 
 regretful fair ones ; he was much too comfortable at 
 Bosekop to look back with any emotional yearning 
 to the ugly, precise little provincial town he had 
 left behind him. The minister's quaint, pretty 
 house suited him perfectly ; the minister's servants 
 were most punctual in their services ; the minister's 
 phaeton conveniently held his cumbrous person, and 
 the minister's pony was a quiet beast, that trotted 
 good-temperedly wherever it was guided, and shied 
 at nothing. Yes, he was thoroughly comfortable, — 
 as comfortable as a truly pious fat man deserves to be, 
 and all the work he had to do was to preach twice 
 on Sundays, to a quiet, primitive, decently ordered 
 congregation, wlio listened to his words respect- 
 fully though without displaying any emotional 
 rapture. Their stolidity, however, did not affect 
 him, — he preached to please himself, — loving above 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 63 
 
 all tilings to hear the sound of his own voice, and 
 never so happy as when thundering fierce denun- 
 ciations against the Church of Rome. His thoughts 
 seemed tending in that direction now, as he poured 
 himself out his third cup of tea and smilingly 
 shook his head over it, while he stirred the cream 
 and sugar in,— for he took from his waistcoat pocket 
 a small glittering object and laid it before him on 
 the table, still shaking his head and smihng with 
 a patient, yet reproachful air of superior wisdom. 
 It was a crucifix of mother-o'-pearl and silver, the 
 symbol of the Christian faith. But it seemed to 
 carry no sacred suggestions to the soul of Mr. 
 Dyceworthy. On the contrary, he looked at it 
 with an expression of meek ridicule, — ridicule that 
 bordered on contempt. 
 
 ''A Roman," he murmured placidlj^to himself, 
 between two large bites of toast. " The girl is a 
 Roman, and thereby hopelessly damned." 
 
 And hesmiled again, — more sweetly than before, 
 as though the idea of hopeless damnation suggested 
 some peculiarly agreeable reflections. Unfolding 
 his fine cologne-scented cambric handkerchief, he 
 carefully wiped his fat white fingers free from the 
 greasy marks of the toast, and, taking up the 
 objectionable cross gingerly, as though it were 
 red-hot, he examined it closely on all sides. There 
 were some words engraved on the back of it, and 
 after some trouble Mr. Dyceworthy spelt them out. 
 They were " Passio Chrlsti, conforta me. Thelma'' 
 
64 THELMA. 
 
 He shook his head with a sort of resigned 
 cheerfulness. 
 
 "Hopelessly damned," he murmured again 
 gently, " unless " 
 
 What alternative suggested itself to his mind 
 was not precisely apparent, for his thoughts sud- 
 denly turned in a more frivolous direction. Eising 
 from the now exhausted tea-table, he drew out a 
 small pocket-mirror and surveyed himself therein 
 with mild approval. With the extreme end of his 
 handkerchief he tenderly removed two sacrilegious 
 crumbs that presumed to linger in the corners of 
 his piously pursed mouth. In the same way he 
 detached a morsel of congealed butter that clung 
 pertinaciously to the end of his bashfully retreating 
 nose. This done, he again looked at himself with 
 increased satisfaction, and, putting by his pocket- 
 mirror, rang the bell. It was answered at once 
 by a tall, strongly built woman, with a colourless, 
 stolid countenance, — that might have been carved 
 out of wood for any expression it had in it. 
 
 " Ulrika," said Mr. Dyceworthy blandly, " you 
 can clear the table." 
 
 Ulrika, without answering, began 'to pack the 
 tea-things together in a methodical way, without 
 clattering so much as a plate or spoon, and, piling 
 them compactly on the tray, was about to leave 
 the room, when Mr. Dyceworthy called to her, 
 " Ulrika ! " 
 
 " Sir ? " 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDXIGHT SUN. 65 
 
 "Did you ever see a thing like this before ? " 
 and he held up the crucifix to her gaze. 
 
 The woman shuddered, and her dull eyes lit up 
 with a sudden terror. 
 
 " It is the witch's charm ! " she muttered 
 thickly, while her pale face grew yet paler. 
 " Burn it, sir ! — burn it, and the power will leave 
 her." 
 
 Mr. Dyce worthy laughed indulgently. "My 
 good woman, you mistake," he said suavely. 
 " Your zeal for the true gospel leads you into 
 error. There are thousands of misguided persons 
 who worship such a thing as this. It is often all 
 of our dear Lord they know. Sad, very sad! 
 But still, though they, alas ! are not of the elect, 
 and are plainly doomed to perdition, — they are not 
 precisely what are termed witches, Ulrika." 
 
 "She is," replied the woman with a sort of 
 ferocity ; '* and, if I had my way, I would tell her 
 so to her face, and see what would happen to her 
 then ! " 
 
 "Tut, tut!" remarked Mr. Dyceworthy 
 amiably. "The days of witchcraft are past. 
 You show some little ignorance, Ulrika. You 
 are not acquainted with the great advancement 
 of recent learning." 
 
 "Maybe, maybe," and Ulrika turned to go; 
 but she muttered sullenly as she went, "There 
 be them that know and could tell, and them that 
 will have her yet." 
 
 VOL. I. 5 
 
66 THELMA. 
 
 She shut the door behind her with a sharp 
 clang, and, left to himself, Mr. Dyceworthy again 
 smiled — such a benignant, fatherly smile ! He 
 then walked to the window and looked out. It 
 was past seven o'clock, an hour that elsewhere 
 would have been considered evening, but in 
 Bosekop at that season it still seemed afternoon. 
 
 The sun was shining brilliantly, and in the 
 minister's front garden the roses were all wide 
 awake. A soft moisture glittered on every tiny 
 leaf and blade of grass. The penetrating and 
 delicious odour of sweet violets scented each puff 
 of wind, and now and then the call of the cuckoo 
 pierced the air with a subdued, far-off shrillness. 
 
 From his position Mr. Dyceworthy could 
 catch a glimpse through the trees of the principal 
 thoroughfare of Bosekop — a small, primitive street 
 enough, of little low houses, which, though unpre- 
 tending from without, were roomy and comfortable 
 within. The distant, cool sparkle of the waters of 
 the Fjord, the refreshing breeze, the perfume of 
 the flowers, and the satisfied impression left on 
 his mind by recent tea and toast — all these things 
 combined had a soothing effect on Mr. Dyce- 
 worthy, and with a sigh of absolute comfort he 
 settled his large person in a deep easy chair and 
 composed himself for pious meditation. 
 
 He meditated long, — with fast-closed eyes and 
 open mouth, while the earnestness of his inward 
 thoughts was clearly demonstrated now and then 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 67 
 
 by an irrepressible, — ahnost triumphant, — cornet- 
 blast from that trifling elevation of his countenance 
 called by courtesy a nose, when his blissful reverie 
 was suddenly broken in upon by the sound of 
 several footsteps crunching slowly along the 
 garden path, and, starting up from his chair, he 
 perceived four individuals clad in white flannel 
 costumes and wearing light straw hats trimmed 
 with fluttering blue ribbons, who were leisurely 
 sauntering up to his door, and stopping occasion- 
 ally to admire the flowers on their way. Mr. 
 Dyce worthy's face reddened visibly with excite- 
 ment. 
 
 " The gentlemen from the yacht," he mur- 
 mured to himself, hastily settling his collar and 
 cravat, and pushing up his cherubic wings of 
 hair more prominently behind his ears. " I never 
 thought they would come. Dear me ! Sir Philip 
 Errington himself, too ! I must have refreshments 
 instantly." 
 
 And he hurried from the room, calling his 
 orders to Ulrika as he went, and before the 
 visitors had time to ring, he had thrown open 
 the door to them himself, and stood smiling 
 urbanely on the threshold, welcoming them with 
 enthusiasm, — and assuring Sir Philip especially 
 how much honoured he felt, by his thus visiting, 
 familiarly and unannounced, his humble dwelling. 
 Errington waved his many compliments good- 
 humouredly aside, and allowed himself and his 
 
68 THELMA. 
 
 friends to be marshalled into the best parlour, the 
 drawing-room of the house, a pretty little apart- 
 ment whose window looked out upon a tangled 
 yet graceful wilderness of flowers. 
 
 " Nice, cosy place this," remarked Lorimer, as 
 he seated himself negligently on the arm of the 
 sofa. " You must be pretty comfortable here ? " 
 
 Their perspiring and affable host rubbed his 
 soft white hands together gently. 
 
 " I thank Heaven it suits my simple needs," 
 he answered meekly. " Luxuries do not become 
 a poor servant of Grod." 
 
 "• Ah, then you are different to many others 
 who profess to serve the same Master," said 
 Duprez, with a sourire fin that had the devil's 
 own mockery in it. " Monsieur le hon Dieu is 
 very impartial ! Some serve Him by constant 
 over-feeding, others by constant over-starving ; 
 it is all one to Him apparently ! How do you 
 know which among His servants He likes best, 
 the fat or the lean ? " 
 
 Sandy Macfarlane, though slightly a bigot 
 for his own form of doctrine, broke into a low 
 chuckle of irrepressible laughter at Duprezs 
 levity, but Mr. Dyce worthy's flabby face be- 
 tokened the utmost horror. 
 
 " Sir," he said gravely, " there are subjects 
 concerning which it is not seemly to speak 
 without due reverence. He knoweth His own 
 elect. He hath chosen them out from the begin- 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 69 
 
 ning. He summoned forth from the million, the 
 glorious apostle of reform, Martin Luther " 
 
 " Le ban gaillardV laughed Duprez. ^'Tempted 
 by a pretty nun! What man could resist! Myself, 
 I would try to upset all the creeds of this world 
 if I saw a pretty nun worth my trouble. Yes, 
 truly ! A pity though, that the poor Luther died 
 of over-eating ; his exit from life was so undigni- 
 fied ! " 
 
 " Shut up, Duprez," said Errington severely. 
 " You displease Mr. Dyceworthy by your fooling." 
 
 " Oh, pray do not mention it. Sir Philip," 
 murmured the reverend gentleman with a mild 
 patience. " We must accustom ourselves to hear 
 with forbearance the opinions of all men, how- 
 soever contradictory, otherwise our vocation is 
 of no avail. Yet is it sorely grievous to me to 
 consider that there should be any person or 
 persons existent who lack the necessary faith 
 requisite for the performance of God's promises." 
 
 " Ye must understand, Mr. Dyceworthy," said 
 Macfarlane in his slow deliberate manner, " that 
 ye have before ye a young Frenchman who doesna 
 believe in onything except liimseF — and even as 
 to whether he himsel' is a mon or a myth, he has 
 his doots — vera grave doots." 
 
 Duprez nodded delightedly. " That is so ! " he 
 exclaimed. " Our dear Sandy puts it so charm- 
 ingly ! To be a myth seems original, — to be a mere 
 man, quite ordinary. I believe it is possible to 
 
70 THELMA. 
 
 find some good scientific professor wlio would 
 prove me to be a myth — the moving shadow of 
 a dream — imagine ! — how perfectly poetical ! " 
 
 " You talk too much to be a dream, my boy," 
 laughed Errington, and turning to Mr. Dyce- 
 worthy, he added, "I'm afraid you must 
 think us a shocking set. We are really none 
 of us very religious, I fear, though," and he tried 
 to look serious; "if it had not been for Mr. 
 Lorimer, we should have come to church last 
 Sunday. Mr. Lorimer was, unfortunately, rather 
 indisposed." 
 
 "Ya-as!" drawled that gentleman, turning 
 from the little window where he had been 
 gathering a rose for his button-hole. " I was 
 knocked up ; had fits, and all that sort of thing ; 
 took these three fellows all their time on Sunday 
 to hold me down ! " 
 
 " Dear me ! " and Mr. Dyceworthy was about 
 to make further inquiries concerning Mr. Lori- 
 mer's present state of health, when the door 
 opened, and Ulrika entered, bearing a large tray 
 laden with wine and other refreshments. As she 
 set it down, she gave a keen covert glance round 
 the room, as though rapidly taking note of the 
 appearance and faces of all the young men, tlien, 
 with a sort of stiff curtsey, she departed as noise- 
 lessly as she had come, — not, however, without 
 leaving a disagreeable impression on Errington's 
 mind. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 71 
 
 *' Rather a stern Phyllis, that waiting-maid 
 of yours," he remarked, watching his host, who 
 was carefully drawing the cork from one of the 
 bottles of wine. 
 
 Mr. Dyceworthy smiled. " Oh, no, no ! not 
 stern at all," he answered sweetly. '' On the 
 contrary, most affable and kind-hearted. Her 
 only f^iult is that she is a little zealous, — over- 
 zealous for the purity of the faith ; and she has 
 suffered much ; but she is an excellent woman, 
 really excellent ! Sir Philip, will you try this 
 Lacrima Christi ? " 
 
 " Lacrima Cliristi ! " exclaimed Duprez. " You 
 do not surely get that in Norway ? " 
 
 " It seems strange, certainly," replied Mr. 
 Dyceworthy, " but it is a fact that the Italian 
 or Papist wines are often used here. The minister 
 whose place I humbly endeavour to fill has his 
 cellar stocked with them. The matter is easy of 
 comprehension when once explained. The be- 
 nighted inhabitants of Italy, a land lost in the 
 darkness of error, still persist in their fasts, not- 
 withstanding the evident folly of their ways — and 
 the Norwegian sailors provide them with large 
 quantities of fish for their idolatrous customs, 
 bringing back their wines in exchange." 
 
 " A very good idea," said Lorimer, sipping 
 the Lacrima with evident approval — " Phil, I 
 doubt if your brands on board the Eulalie are 
 better than this." 
 
72 THELMA. 
 
 " Hardly so good," replied Errington with 
 some surprise, as he tasted the wine and noted its 
 delicious flavour. " The minister must be a fine 
 connoisseur. Are there many other families about 
 here, Mr. Dyceworthy, who know how to choose 
 their wines so well ? " 
 
 Mr. Dyceworthy smiled with a dubious air. 
 
 " There is one other household that in the 
 matter of choice liquids is almost profanely par- 
 ticular," he said. " But they are people who are 
 ejected with good reason from respectable society, 
 and, — it behoves me not to speak of their names." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! " said Errington, while a sudden 
 and inexplicable thrill of indignation fired his 
 blood and sent it in a wave of colour up to his 
 forehead — "May I ask " 
 
 But he was interrupted by Lorimer, who, 
 nudging him slyly on one side, muttered, " Keep 
 cool, old fellow ! You can't tell whether he's 
 talking about the Griildmar folk ! Be quiet — you 
 don't want every one to know your little game." 
 
 Thus adjured, Philip swallowed a large gulp of 
 wine, to keep down his feelings, and strove to 
 appear interested in the habits and caprices of 
 bees, a subject into which Mr. Dyceworthy had 
 just inveigled Duprez and Macfarlane. 
 
 " Come and see my bees," said the Reverend 
 Charles almost pathetically. " They are emblems 
 of ever-working and patient industry, — storing up 
 honey for others to partake thereof." 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 73 
 
 " They wuclna store it up at a', perhaps, if they 
 knew that," observed Sandy significantly. 
 
 Mr. Dyceworthy positively shone all over with 
 beneficence. 
 
 " They would store it up, sir ; yes, they would, 
 even if they knew ! It is Grod's will that they 
 should store it up ; it is God's will that they 
 should show an example of unselfishness, that 
 they should flit from flower to flower sucking 
 therefrom the sweetness to impart into strange 
 palates unlike their own. It is a beautiful lesson ; 
 it teaches us who are the ministers of the Lord to 
 likewise suck the sweetness from the flowers of 
 the living gospel and impart it gladly to the 
 unbelievers who shall find it sweeter than the 
 sweetest honey ! " 
 
 And he shook his head piously several times, 
 while the pores of his fat visage exuded holy oil. 
 Duprez sniggered secretly. Macfarlane looked 
 preternaturally solemn. 
 
 " Come," repeated the reverend gentleman, 
 with an inviting smile. " Come and see my bees, — 
 also my strawberries ! I shall be delighted to send 
 a basket of the fruit to the yacht, if Sir Philip will 
 permit me ? " 
 
 Errington expressed his thanks with due 
 courtesy, and hastened to seize the opportunity 
 that presented itself for breaking away from the 
 party. 
 
 " If you will excuse us for twenty minutes or 
 
74 THELMA. 
 
 SO, Mr. Dyceworthy," he said, " Lorimer and I 
 want to consult a fellow here in Bosekop about 
 some new fishing-tackle. We shan't be gone long. 
 Mac, you and Duprez wait for us here. Don't 
 commit too many depredations on Mr. Dyce- 
 worthy's strawberries." 
 
 The reason for their departure was so simply 
 and naturally given, that it was accepted without 
 any opposing remarks. Duprez was delighted to 
 have the chance of amusing himself by harassing 
 the Reverend Charles with open professions of 
 utter atheism, and Macfarlane, who loved an 
 argument more than he loved whiskey, looked 
 forward to a sharp discussion presently concern- 
 ing the superiority of John Knox, morally and 
 physically, over Martin Luther. So that when 
 the others went their way their departure excited 
 no suspicion in the minds of their friends, and 
 most unsuspecting of all was the placid Mr. 
 Dyceworthy, who, had he imagined for an instant 
 the direction which they were going, would 
 certainly not have discoursed on the pleasures of 
 bee-keeping with the calmness and placid convic- 
 tion that always distinguished him when holding 
 forth on any subject that was attractive to his 
 mind. Leading the way through his dewy, rose- 
 grown garden, and conversing amicably as he 
 went, he escorted Macfarlane and Duprez to what 
 he called with a gentle humour his " Bee-Metro- 
 polis," while Errington and Lorimer returned 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 75 
 
 to the shore of the Fjord, where they had left 
 their boat moored to a small, clumsily constructed 
 pier, — and entering it, they set themselves to the 
 oars and pulled away together with the long, 
 steady, sweeping stroke rendered famous by the 
 exploits of the Oxford and Cambridge men. After 
 some twenty minutes' rowing, Lorimer looked up 
 and spoke as he drew his blade swiftly through 
 the bright green water. 
 
 " I feel as though I were aiding and abetting 
 you in some crime, Phil. You know, my first 
 impression of this business remains the same. 
 You had much better leave it alone." 
 " Why ? " asked Errington coolly. 
 " Well, 'pon my life I don't know why. 
 Except that, from long experience, I have proved 
 that it's always dangerous and troublesome to 
 run after a woman. Leave her to run after you — 
 she'll do it fast enough." 
 
 " Wait till you see her. Besides, I'm not 
 running after any woman," averred Philip with 
 some heat. 
 
 '^ Oh, I beg your pardon — I forgot. She's 
 not a woman ; she's a Snn-angel. You are 
 rowing, not running, after a Sun-angel. Is that 
 correct? I say, don't drive through the water 
 like that ; you'll pull the boat round." 
 
 Errington slackened his speed and laughed. 
 " It's only curiosity," he said, lifting his hat, and 
 pushing back the clustering dark-brown curls 
 
76 THELMA. 
 
 from his brow. " I bet you that sleek Dyce- 
 worthy fellow meant the old honde and his 
 daughter, when he spoke of persons who were 
 ' ejected ' from tbe social circles of Bosekop. 
 Fancy Bosekop society presuming to be parti- 
 cular ! — what an absurd idea ! " 
 
 " My good fellow, don't pretend to be so 
 deplorably ignorant ! Surely you know that a 
 trumpery village or a twopenny town is much 
 more choice and exclusive in its 'sets' than a 
 great city ? I wouldn't live in a small place for 
 the world. Every inhabitant would know the cut 
 of my clothes by heart, and the number of buttons 
 on my waistcoat. The grocer would copy the 
 pattern of my trousers, — the butcher would carry 
 a cane like mine. It would be simply insufferable. 
 To change the subject, may I ask you if you 
 know which way you are going, for it seems to 
 me we're bound straight for a smash on that 
 nncomfortable-looking rock, where there is cer- 
 tainly no landing-place." 
 
 Errington stopped pulling, and, standing up in 
 the boat, began to examine the surroundings with 
 keen interest. They were close to the great crag 
 *• shaped like a giant's helmet," as Yaldemar 
 Svensen had said. It rose sheer out of the water, 
 and its sides were almost perpendicular. Some 
 beautiful star-shaped sea anemones clung to it 
 in a vari-coloured cluster on one projection, and 
 the running ripple of the small waves broke on 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 77 
 
 its jagged corners with a musical splash and 
 sparkle of white foam. Below them, in the 
 emerald mirror of the Fjord, it was so clear that 
 they could see the line white sand lying at the 
 bottom, sprinkled thick with shells and lithe 
 moving creatures of all shapes, while every now 
 and then there streamed past them, brilliantly 
 tinted specimens of the Medusae, with their long 
 feelers or tendrils, looking like torn skeins of 
 crimson and azure floss silk. 
 
 The place was very silent ; only the sea-gulls 
 circled round and round the summit of the great 
 rock, some of them occasionally swooping down 
 on the unwary fishes their keen eyes perceived in 
 the waters beneath, then up again they soared, 
 swaying their graceful wings and uttering at 
 intervals that peculiar wild cry that in solitary 
 haunts sounds so intensely mournful. Errington 
 gazed about him in doubt for some minutes, then 
 suddenly his face brightened. He sat down again 
 in the boat and resumed his oar. 
 
 " Row quietly, George," he said in a subdued 
 tone. " Quietly — round to the left." 
 
 The oars dipped noiselessly, and the boat shot 
 forward, — then swerved sharply round in the 
 direction indicated, — and there before them lav a 
 small sandy creek, white and shining as though 
 sprinkled with powdered silver. From this, a 
 small but strongly -built wooden pier ran out into 
 the sea. It was carved all over with fantastic 
 
78 THELMA. 
 
 figures, and in it, at equal distances, were fastened 
 iron rings, such as are used for the safe mooring 
 of boats. One boat was there already, and 
 Errington recognized it with delight. It was 
 that in which he had seen the mysterious maiden 
 disappear. High and dry on the sand, out of 
 reach of the tides, was a neat sailing-vessel ; its 
 name was painted round the stern — The Valkyrie. 
 
 As the two friends ran their boat on shore, and 
 fastened it to the furthest ring of the convenient 
 pier, they caught the distant sound of the plaintive 
 '' coo-cooing " of turtle doves. 
 
 " You've done it this time, old boy," said 
 Lorimer, speaking in a whisper, though he knew 
 not why. " This is the old hondes own private 
 landing-place evidently, and here's a footpath 
 leading somewhere. Shall we follow it ? " 
 
 Philip emphatically assented, and, treading 
 softly, like the trespassers they felt themselves to 
 be, they climbed the ascending narrow way that 
 guided them up from the seashore, round through 
 a close thicket of pines, where their footsteps fell 
 noiselessly on a thick carpet of velvety green 
 moss, dotted prettily here and there with the red 
 gleam of ripening wild strawberries. Every- 
 thing was intensely still, and as yet there seemed 
 no sign of human habitation. Suddenly a low 
 whirring sound broke upon their ears, and Erring- 
 ton, who was a little in advance of his companion, 
 paused abruptly with a smothered exclamation, 
 
THE LA^^D OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 79 
 
 and drew back on tip-toe, catching Lorimer by 
 the arm. 
 
 " By Jove ! " he whispered excitedly, " we've 
 come right up to the very windows of the house. 
 Look ! " 
 
 Lorimer obeyed, and for once, the light jest 
 died upon his lips. Surprise and admiration held 
 him absolutely silent. 
 
80 THELMA. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " Elle filait et sonriait, — et je crois qu'elle enveloppa mon coeur 
 avec son fil." — Heine. 
 
 Before them, close enough for their outstretched 
 hands to have touched it, was what appeared to he 
 a framed picture, exquisitely painted, — a picture 
 perfect in outline, matchless in colour, faultless in 
 detail, — but which was in reality nothing but a 
 large latticed window thrown wide open to admit 
 the air. They could now see distinctly through 
 the shadows cast by the stately pines, a long, low, 
 rambling house, built roughly, but strongly, of 
 wooden rafters, all overgrown with green and 
 blossoming creepers ; but they scarcely glanced at 
 the actual building, so strongly was their atten- 
 tion riveted on the one window before them. It 
 was surrounded by an unusually broad framework, 
 curiously and elaborately carved, and black as 
 polished ebony. Flowers grew all about it, — sweet 
 peas, mignonette, and large purple pansies — while 
 red and white climbing roses rioted in untrained 
 profusion over its wide sill. Above it was a 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 81 
 
 quaintly built dovecote, where some of the strut- 
 ting fan-tailed inhabitants were perched, swelling 
 out their snowy breasts and discoursing of their 
 domestic trials in notes of dulcet melancholy ; while 
 lower down, three or four ringdoves nestled on the 
 roof in a patch of sunlight, spreading up their 
 pinions like miniature sails, to catch the warmth 
 and lustre. 
 
 Within the deep, shadowy embrasure, like a 
 jewel placed on dark velvet, was seated a girl 
 spinning, — no other than the mysterious maiden of 
 the shell cavern. She was attired in a plain, 
 straight gown, of some soft, white woollen stuff, 
 cut squarely at the throat ; her round, graceful 
 arms were partially bare, and as the wheel turned 
 swiftly, and her slender hands busied themselves 
 with the flax, she smiled, as though some pleasing 
 thought had touched her mind. Her smile had 
 the effect of sudden sunshine in the dark room 
 where she sat and span, — it was radiant and mirth- 
 ful as the smile of a happy child. Yet her dark 
 blue eyes remained pensive and earnest, and the 
 smile soon faded, leaving her fair face absorbed 
 and almost dreamy. The whirr-whirring of the 
 wheel grew less and less rapid, — it slackened, — it 
 stopped altogether, — and, as though startled by 
 some unexpected sound, the girl paused and lis- 
 tened, pushing away the clustering masses of her 
 rich hair from her brow. Then rising slowly from 
 her seat, she advanced to the window, put aside the 
 
 VOL. I. 6 
 
82 THELMA. 
 
 roses with one hand, and looked out, — thus formin,^ 
 another picture as beautiful, if not more beautiful, 
 than the first. 
 
 Lorimer drew his breath hard. " I say, old 
 fellow," he whispered ; but Errington pressed his 
 arm with vice-like firmness, as a warning to him 
 to be silent, while they both stepped further back 
 into the dusky gloom of the pine-boughs. 
 
 The girl, meanwhile, stood motionless, in a 
 half-expectant attitude, and, seeing her there, some 
 of the doves on the roof flew down and strutted 
 on the ground before her, coo-cooing proudly, as 
 though desirous of attracting her attention. One 
 of them boldly perched on the window-sill ; she 
 glanced at the bird musingly, and softly stroked 
 its opaline wings and shining head without terri- 
 fying it. It seemed delighted to be noticed, and 
 almost lay down under her hand in order to be i^ore 
 conveniently caressed. Still gently smoothing its 
 feathers, she leaned further out among the clam- 
 bering wealth of blossoms, and called in a lo^^ai^ 
 penetrating tone, '' Father ! father ! is that you ?"" 
 
 There was no answer ; and, after waiting a 
 minute or two, she moved and resumed her former 
 seat, — the stray doves flew back to their customary 
 promenade on the roof, and the drowsy whirr- 
 whirr of the spinning-wheel murmured again its 
 monotonous hum upon the air. 
 
 " Come on, Phil," whispered Lorimer, deter- 
 mined not to be checked this time ; " I feel per- 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 83 
 
 fectly wretched ! It's mean of ns to be skul king- 
 about here, as if we were a couple of low thieves 
 waiting to trap some of those birds for a pigeon- 
 pie. Come away, — you've seen her; that's enough." 
 
 Errington did not move. Holding back a 
 branch of pine, he watched the movements of the 
 girl at her wheel with absorbed fascination. 
 
 Suddenly her sweet lips parted, and she sang 
 a weird, wild melody, that seemed, like a running- 
 torrent, to have fallen from the crests of the 
 mountains, bringing with it echoes from the 
 furthest summits, mingled with soft wailings of 
 a mournful wind. 
 
 Her voice was pure as the ring of fine crystal — 
 deep, liquid, and tender, with a restrained passion 
 in it that stirred Errington's heart and filled it 
 with a strange unrest and feverish yearning,— 
 emotions which were new to him, and which, while 
 he realized their existence, moved him to a sort of 
 ashamed impatience. He would have willingly 
 left his post of observation now, if only for the 
 sake of shaking off his unwonted sensations ; and 
 he took a step or two backwards for that purpose, 
 when Lorimer, in his turn, laid a detaining hand 
 on his shoulder. 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, let us hear the song 
 through ! " he said in subdued tones. " What a 
 voice ! A positive golden flute ! " 
 
 His rapt face betokened his enjoyment, and 
 Errington, nothing loth, still lingered, his eyes 
 
84 THELMA. 
 
 fixed on tlie white-robed slim figure framed in the 
 dark old rose-wreathed window — the figure that 
 swayed softly with the motion of the wheel and 
 the rhythm of the song, — while flickering sun- 
 beams sparkled now and then on the maiden's 
 dusky gold hair, or touched up a warmer tint on 
 her tenderly flushed cheeks, and fair neck, more 
 snowy than the gown she wore. Music poured 
 from her lips as from the throat of a nightingale. 
 The words she sang were Norwegian, and her 
 listeners understood nothing of them ; but the 
 melody, — the pathetic appealing melody, — soul- 
 moving as all true melody must be, touched the 
 very core of their hearts, and entangled them in 
 a web of delicious reveries. 
 
 '' Talk of Ary Scheffer's Gretchen ! " murmured 
 Lorimer, with a sigh. " What a miserable, pasty, 
 milk-and- watery young person she is beside that 
 magnificent, unconscious beauty ! I give in, Phil ! 
 I admit your taste. I'm willing to swear that 
 she's a Sun-Angel if you like. Her voice has 
 convinced me of that." 
 
 At that instant the song ceased. Errington 
 turned and regarded him steadfastly. 
 
 " Are you hit, George ? " he said softly, with 
 a forced smile. 
 
 Lorimer's face flushed, but he met his friend's 
 eyes frankly. 
 
 " I am no poacher, old fellow," he answered 
 in the same quiet accents ; " I think you know 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 85 
 
 that. If that girl's mind is as lovely as her face, 
 I say, go in and win ! " 
 
 Sir Philip smiled. His brow cleared and an 
 expression of relief settled there. The look of 
 gladness was unconscious ; but Lorimer saw it 
 at once and noted it. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " he said in a mirthful undertone. 
 " How can I go in and win, as you say ? What 
 am I to do ? I can't go up to that window and 
 speak to her, — she might take me for a thief." 
 
 " You look like a thief," replied Lorimer, sur- 
 veying his friend's athletic figure, clad in its loose 
 but well-cut yachting suit of white flannel, orna- 
 mented with silver anchor buttons, and taking a 
 comprehensive glance from the easy pose of the 
 fine head and handsome face, down to the trim 
 foot with the high and well-arched instep, " Very 
 much like a thief! I wonder I haven't noticed it 
 before. Any London policeman would arrest you 
 on the mere fact of your suspicious appearance." 
 
 Errington laughed. '' Well, my boy, what- 
 ever my looks may testify, I am at this moment 
 an undoubted trespasser on private property, — and 
 so are you for that matter. What shall we do ? " 
 
 " Find the front door and ring the bell," 
 suggested George promptly. *' Say we are 
 benighted travellers and have lost our way. The 
 bonde can but flay us. The operation, I believe, 
 is painful, but it cannot last long." 
 
 " George, you are incorrigible ! Suppose we 
 
86 TEELMA. 
 
 go back and try the other side of this pine- wood ? 
 That might lead us to the front of the house." 
 
 " I don't see why we shouldn't walk coolly past 
 that window," said Lorimer. " If any observa- 
 tion is made by the fair ' Marguerite ' yonder, we 
 can boldly say we have come to see the bonder 
 
 Unconsciously they had both raised their 
 voices a little during the latter part of their hasty 
 dialogue, and at the instant when Lorimer 
 uttered the last words, a heavy hand was laid 
 on each of their shoulders, — a hand that turned 
 them round forcibly away from the window they 
 had been gazing at, and a deep, resonant voice 
 addressed them. 
 
 " The honde ? Truly, young men, you need 
 seek no further, — I am Olaf Giildmar ! " 
 
 Had he said, "1 am an Emperor ! " he could 
 not have spoken with more pride. 
 
 Errington and his friend were for a moment 
 speechless, — partly from displeasure at the summary 
 manner in which they had been seized and twisted 
 round like young uprooted saplings, and partly 
 from surprise and involuntary admiration for the 
 personage who had treated them with such scant 
 courtesy. They saw before them a man somewhat 
 above the middle height, who might have served 
 an aspiring sculptor as a perfect model for a chief- 
 tain of old Gaul, or a dauntless Y iking. His 
 frame was firmly and powerfully built, and seemed 
 to be exceptionally strong and muscular ; yet an 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 87 
 
 air of almost courtly grace pervaded his move- 
 ments, making each attitude he assumed more or 
 less picturesque. He was broad-shouldered and 
 deep-chested ; his face was full and healthily 
 coloured, while his head was truly magnificent. 
 Well-poised and shapely, it indicated power, will, 
 and wisdom ; and was furthermore adorned by a 
 rough, thick mass of snow-white hair that shone in 
 the sunlight like spun silver. His beard was short 
 and curly, trimmed after the fashion of the warriors 
 of old Rome ; and, from under his fierce fuzzy, 
 grey eyebrows, a pair of sentinel eyes, that were 
 keen, clear, and bold as an eagle's, looked out with 
 a watchful steadiness — steadiness, that like the 
 sharp edge of a diamond, seemed warranted to cut 
 through the brittle glass of a lie. Judging by 
 his outward appearance, his age might have been 
 guessed at as between fifty-eight and sixty, but he 
 was, in truth, seventy-two, and more strong, active, 
 and daring than many another man whose years are 
 not counted past the thirties. He was curiously 
 attired, after something of the fashion of the 
 Highlander, and something yet more of the ancient 
 Greek, in a tunic, vest, and loose jacket all made 
 of reindeer skin, thickly embroidered with curious 
 designs worked in coarse thread and coloured 
 beads ; while thrown carelessly over his shoulders 
 and knotted at his waist, was a broad scarf of 
 white woollen stuff, or wadmel, very soft-looking 
 and warm. In his belt he carried a formidable 
 
88 THELMA. 
 
 hunting-knife, and as lie faced the two intruders 
 on his ground, he rested one hand lightly yet 
 suggestively on a weighty staff of pine, which was 
 notched all over with quaint letters and figures, 
 and terminated in a curved handle at the top. He 
 waited for the young men to speak, and finding 
 they remained silent, he glanced at them half 
 angrily and again repeated his words — 
 
 ^' I am the honde^ — Olaf Giildmar. Speak your 
 business and take your departure ; my time is 
 brief!" 
 
 Lorimer looked up with his usual noncha- 
 lance, — a faint smile playing about his lips. He 
 saw at once that the old farmer was not a man 
 to be trifled with, and he raised his cap with a 
 ready grace as he spoke. 
 
 " Fact is," he said frankly, " we've no business 
 here at all — not the least in the world. We are 
 perfectly aware of it ! We are trespassers, and 
 we know it. Pray don't be hard on us Mr. — 
 Mr. Giildmar ! " 
 
 The honde glanced him over with a quick 
 lightening of the eyes, and the suspicion of a 
 smile in the depths of his curly beard. He turned 
 to Errington. 
 
 " Is this true ? You came here on purpose, 
 knowing the ground was private property ? " 
 
 Errington, in his turn, lifted his cap from his 
 clustering brown curls with that serene and stately 
 court manner which was to him second nature. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 89 
 
 " We did," he confessed, quietly following 
 Lorimer's cue, and seeing also that it was best to 
 be straightforward. " We heard you spoken of 
 in Bosekop, and we came to see if you would 
 permit us the honour of your acquaintance." 
 
 The old man struck his pine-staff violently 
 into the ground and his face flushed wrathfully. 
 
 " Bosekop ! " he exclaimed. '' Talk to me of 
 a wasps' nest ! Bosekop ! You shall hear of me 
 there enough to satisfy your appetite for news. 
 Bosekop ! In the days when my race ruled the 
 land, such people as they that dwell there would 
 have been put to sharpen my sword on the grind- 
 stone, or to wait, hungry and humble, for the 
 refuse of the food left from my table ! " 
 
 He spoke with extraordinary heat and 
 passion, — it was evidently necessary to soothe him. 
 Lorimer took a covert glance backward over his 
 shoulder towards the lattice window, and saw 
 that the white figure at the spinning-wheel had 
 disappeared. 
 
 " My dear Mr. Giildmar," he then said with 
 polite fervour, " I assure you I think the Bosekop 
 folk by no means deserve to sharpen your sword 
 on the grindstone, or to enjoy the remains of your 
 dinner ! Myself, I despise them ! My friend 
 here. Sir Philip Errington, despises them — don't 
 vou, Phil ? " 
 
 Errington nodded demurely. 
 
 " What my friend said just now is perfectly 
 
90 THELMA. 
 
 true," continued Lorimer. " We desire the honour 
 of your acquaintance, — it will charm and delight 
 ■Qs above all things 1 " 
 
 And his face beamed with a candid, winning, 
 boyish smile, which was very captivating in its 
 own way, and which certainly had its effect on 
 the old bonde, for his tone softened, though he 
 said gravely — 
 
 " My acquaintance, young men, is never sought 
 by any. Those who are wise, keep away from 
 me. I love not strangers ; it is best you should 
 know it. 1 freely pardon your trespass ; take your 
 leave, and go in peace." 
 
 The two friends exchanged disconsolate looks. 
 There really seemed nothing for it, but to obey 
 this unpleasing command. Errington made one 
 more venture. 
 
 " May I hope, Mr. Guldmar," he said with 
 persuasive courtesy, " that you will break through 
 your apparent rule of seclusion for once and visit 
 me on board my yacht ? You have no doubt seen 
 her — the Eulalie — she lies at anchor in the Fjord." 
 
 The honde looked him straight in the eyes. 
 '' I have seen her. A fair toy vessel to amuse 
 an idle young man's leisure ! You are he that in 
 that fool's hole of a Bosekop, is known as the 
 ' rich Englishman,' — an idle trifler with time, — an 
 aimless wanderer from those dull shores where 
 they eat gold till they die of surfeit ! I have 
 heard of you, — a mushroom knight, a fungus of 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 91 
 
 nobility, — an ephemeral growth on a grand decay- 
 ing old tree, whose roots lie buried in the annals 
 of a far forgotten past/' 
 
 The rich, deep voice of the old man quivered 
 as he spoke, and a shadow of melancholy flitted 
 across his brow. Errirjgton listened with un- 
 ruffled patience. He heard himself, his pleasures, 
 his wealth, his rank, thus made light of, without 
 the least offence. He met the steady gaze of the 
 bonde quietly, and slightly bent his head as though 
 in deference to his remarks. 
 
 " You are quite right," he said simply. " We 
 modern men are but pigmies compared with the 
 giants of old tim.e. Royal blood itself is tainted 
 nowadays. But, for myself, I attach no impor- 
 tance to the mere appurtenances of life, — the bag- 
 gage that accompanies one on that brief journey. 
 Life itself is quite enough for me." 
 
 " And for me too," averred Lorimer, delighted 
 that his friend had taken the old farmer's scornful 
 observations so good-naturedly. " But, do you 
 know, Mr. Guldmar, you are making life unplea- 
 sant for us just now, by turning us out ? The 
 conversation is becoming interesting ! Why not 
 prolong it ? We have no friends in Bosekop, and 
 we are to anchor here for some days. Surely you 
 will allow us to come and see you again ? " 
 
 Olaf Guldmar was silent. He advanced a step 
 nearer, and studied them both with such eai'nest 
 and searching scrutiny, that as they remembered 
 
92 THELMA. 
 
 the real attraction that had drawn them thither, 
 the conscious blood mounted to their faces, flush- 
 ing Errington's forehead to the very roofs of his 
 curly brown hair. Still the old man gazed as 
 though he sought to read their very souls. He 
 muttered something to himself in Norwegian, 
 and, finally, to their utter astonishment, he drew 
 his hunting-knife from its sheath, and with a 
 rapid, wild gesture, threw it on the ground and 
 placed his foot upon it. 
 
 " Be it so ! " he said brieflv. " I cover the 
 blade ! You are men ; like men you speak truth. 
 As such, I receive you ! Had you told me a lie 
 concerning your coming here, — had you made pre- 
 tence of having lost your way, or other sach shifty 
 evasion, your path would never have again crossed 
 mine. As it is, — welcome ! " 
 
 And he held out his hand with a sort of royal 
 dignity, still resting one foot on the fallen weapon. 
 The young men, struck by his action and gratified 
 by his change of manner and the genial expression 
 that now softened his rugged features, were quick 
 to respond to his friendly greeting, and the honde^ 
 picking up and re-sheathing his hunting-knife 
 as if he had done nothing at all out of the com- 
 mon, motioned them towards the very window on 
 which their eyes had been so long and so ardently 
 fixed. 
 
 " Come ! " he said. " You must drain a cup of 
 wine with me before you leave. Your unguided 
 
TEE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 93 
 
 footsteps led you by the wrong path, — I saw your 
 boat moored to my pier, and wondered who had 
 been venturesome enough to trample through my 
 woodland. I might have guessed that only a 
 couple of idle boys like yourselves, knowing no 
 better, would have pushed their way to a spot that 
 all worthy dwellers in Bosekop, and all true 
 followers of the Lutheran devilry, avoid as though 
 the plague were settled in it." 
 
 And the old man laughed, a splendid, mellow 
 laugh, with the ring of true jollity in- it, — a laugh 
 that was infectious, for Errington and Lorimer 
 joined in it heartily without precisely knowing- 
 why. Lorimer, however, thought it seemly to 
 protest against the appellation " idle boys." 
 
 *' What do you take us for, sir ? " he said with 
 Inzy good-nature. " I carry upon my shoulders 
 the sorrowful burden of twenty-six years, — Philip, 
 there, is painfully conscious of being thirty, — may 
 we not therefore dispute the word ' boys ' as being 
 derogatory to our dignity ? You called us ' men ' 
 a while ago, — remember that ! " 
 
 Olaf Giildmar laughed again. His suspicious 
 gravity had entirely disappeared, leaving his 
 face a beaming mirror of beneficence and good- 
 humour. 
 
 " So you are men," he said cheerily, " men in 
 the bud, like leaves on a tree. But you seem boys 
 to a tough old stump of humanity such as I am. 
 That is my way, — my child Thelma, though they 
 
94 THELMA. 
 
 tell me she is a woman grown, is always a babe to 
 me. 'Tis one of the many privileges of the old, to 
 see the world about them always young and full of 
 children." 
 
 And he led the way past the wide-open lattice, 
 where they could dimly perceive the spinning- 
 wheel standing alone, as though thinking deeply of 
 the fair hands that had lately left it idle, and so 
 round to the actual front of the house, which was 
 exceedingly picturesque, and literally overgrown 
 with roses from ground to roof. The entrance door 
 stood open ; — it was surrounded by a wide, deep 
 porch richly carved and grotesquely ornamented, 
 having two comfortable seats within it, one on 
 each side. Through this they went, involuntarily 
 brushing down as they passed, a shower of pink 
 and white rose-leaves, and stepped into a wide 
 passage, where upon walls of dark polished pine, 
 hung a large collection of curiously shaped 
 weapons, all of primitive manufacture, such as 
 stone darts and rough axes, together with bows 
 and arrows and two-handled swords, huge as the 
 fabled weapon of William Wallace. 
 
 Openiug a door to the right the honde stood 
 courteously aside and bade them enter, and they 
 found themselves in the very apartment where 
 they had seen the maiden spinning. 
 
 " Sit down, sit down ! " said their host hos- 
 pitably. "We will have wine directly, and Thelma 
 shall come hither. Thelma ! Thelma ! Where is 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 95 
 
 the child ? She wanders hither and thither like a 
 mountain sprite. Wait here, my lads, I shall 
 return directly." 
 
 And he strode away, leaving Errington and 
 Lorimer delighted at the success of their plans, 
 yet somewhat abashed too. There was a peace 
 and gentle simplicity about the little room in which 
 they were, that touched the chivalrous sentiment 
 in their natures and kept them silent. On one 
 side of it, half a dozen broad shelves supported a 
 goodly row of well-bound volumes, among which 
 the time-honoured golden names of Shakespeare and 
 Scott glittered invitingly, together with such works 
 as Chapman's Homer, Byron's •' Childe Harold," 
 the Poems of John Keats, Gibbon's Kome, and 
 Plutarch ; while mingled with these were the 
 devotional works in French of Alphonse de 
 Liguori, the " Imitation," also in French, — and a 
 number of books with titles in Norwegian, — alto- 
 gether an heterogenous collection of literature, yet 
 not without interest as displaying taste and culture 
 on the part of those to whom it belonged. Erring- 
 ton, himself learned in books, was surprised to see 
 so many standard works in the library of one who 
 professed to be nothing but a Norwegian farmer, 
 and his respect for the sturdy old honde increased. 
 There were no pictures in the room, — the wide 
 lattice window on one hand, looking out on the 
 roses and the pine-wood, and the other smaller 
 one, close to the entrance door, from which the 
 
96 THELMA. 
 
 Fjord was distinctly visible, were sufficient pictures 
 in themselves, to need no others. The furniture 
 was roughly made of pine, and seemed to have 
 been carved by hand, — some of the chairs were very 
 quaint and pretty and would have sold in a bric-a- 
 brac shop for more than a sovereign apiece. On 
 the wide mantel-shelf was a quantity of curious 
 old china that seemed to have been picked up from 
 all parts of the world, — most of it was undoubtedly 
 valuable. In one dark corner stood an ancient 
 harp ; then there was the spinning-wheel, — itself a 
 curiosity fit for a museum, — testifying dumbly of 
 the mistress of all these surroundings, and on the 
 floor there was something else, — something that 
 both the young men were strongly inclined to take 
 possession of. It was only a bunch of tiny meadow 
 daisies, fastened together with a bit of blue silk. 
 It had fallen, — they guessed by whom it had been 
 worn, — but neither made any remark, and both, by 
 some strange instinct, avoiding looking at it, as 
 though the innocent little blossoms carried within 
 them some terrible temptation. They were con- 
 scious of a certain embarrassment, and making an 
 effort to break through it, Lorimer remarked 
 softly — 
 
 " By Jove, Phil, if this old Griildmar really 
 knew what you are up to, I believe he would 
 bundle you out of this place like a tramp ! 
 Didn't you feel a sneak when he said we had 
 told the truth like men ? " 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 97 
 
 Philip smiled dreamily. He was seated in 
 one of the quaintly carved chairs, half absorbed 
 in what was evidently a pleasing reverie. 
 
 " No ; not exactly," he replied. " Because we 
 did tell him the truth ; we did want to know him, 
 and he's worth knowing too ! He is a magnifi- 
 cent-looking fellow ; don't you think so ? " 
 
 " Rather ! " assented Lorimer, with emphasis. 
 " I wish there were any hope of my becoming 
 such a fine old buffer in my decadence, — it would 
 be worth living for if only to look at myself in 
 the glass now and then. He rather startled me 
 when he threw down that knife, though. I 
 suppose it is some old Norwegian custom ? " 
 
 " I suppose so," Errington answered, and then 
 was silent, for at that moment the door opened 
 and the old farmer returned, followed by a girl 
 bearing a tray glittering with flasks of Italian 
 wine, and long graceful glasses shaped like round 
 goblets, set on particularly slender stems. The 
 sight of the girl disappointed the eager visitors, 
 for though she was undeniably pretty, she was 
 not Thelma. She was short and plump, with 
 rebellious nut-brown locks, that rippled about 
 her face and from under her close white cap with 
 persistent untidiness. Her cheeks were as round 
 and red as love-apples, and she had dancing blue 
 eyes that appeared for ever engaged in good- 
 natured efforts to outsparkle each other. She 
 wore a spotless apron, lavishly trimmed with 
 
 VOL. I. 7 
 
98 THELMA. 
 
 coquettish little starched frills, — her hands were, 
 unfortunately, rather large and coarse, — but her 
 smile, as she set down the tray and curtsied 
 respectfully to the young men, was charming, 
 disclosing as it did, tiny teeth as even and white 
 as a double row of small pearls. 
 
 " That is well, Britta," said Giildmar, speaking 
 in English, and assisting her to place the glasses. 
 " Now, quick ! . . . run after thy mistress to the 
 shore, — her boat cannot yet have left the creek, — 
 bid her return and come to me, — tell her there 
 are friends here who will be glad of her presence." 
 Britta hurried away at once, but Errington's 
 heart sank. Thelma had gone ! — gone, most prob- 
 ably, for one of those erratic journeys across 
 the Fjord to the cave where he had first seen 
 her. She would not come back, he felt cer- 
 tain ; not even at her father's request would that 
 beautiful, proud maiden consent to alter her 
 plans. What an unlucky destiny was his ! 
 Absorbed in disappointed reflections, he scarcely 
 heard the enthusiastic praises Lorimer was diplo- 
 matically bestowing on the hondes wine. He 
 hardly felt its mellow flavour on his own palate, 
 though it was in truth delicious, and fit for the 
 table of a monarch. Giildmar noticed the young 
 baronet's abstraction, and addressed him with 
 genial kindness. 
 
 " Are you thinking. Sir Philip, of my rough 
 speeches to you yonder ? No offence was meant, 
 
THE LAND OF THE JVIIDNIGHT SUN. 99 
 
 no offence! ..." the old fellow paused, and laughed 
 over his wine-glass. " Yet I may as well be 
 honest about it ! Offence was meant ; but when 
 I found that none was taken, my humour changed." 
 
 A slight, half-weary smile played on Errington's 
 lips. " I assure you, sir," he said, " I agreed with 
 you then, and agree with you now, in every word 
 you uttered. You took my measure very cor- 
 rectly, and allow me to add that no one can be 
 more conscious of my own insignificance than I 
 am myself. The days we live in are insignificant ; 
 the chronicle of our paltry doings will be skipped 
 by future readers of the country's history. Among 
 a society of particularly useless men, I feel myself 
 to be one of the most useless. If you could show 
 me any way to make my life valuable " 
 
 He paused abruptly, and his heart beat with 
 inexplicable rapidity. A light step and the rustle 
 of a dress was heard coming through the porch ; 
 another perfumed shower of rose-leaves fell softly 
 on the garden path ; the door of the room opened, 
 and a tall, fair, white-robed figure shone forth 
 from the dark background of the outer passage ; 
 a figure that hesitated on the threshold, and then 
 advanced noiselessly and with a reluctant shyness. 
 The old bojide turned round in his chair with a 
 smile. 
 
 " Ah, here she is ! " he said fondly. " Where 
 hast thou been, my Thelma ? " 
 
100 THELMA. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " And Sigurd the Bishop said, 
 * The old gods are not dead, 
 For the great Thor still reigns, 
 And among the Jarls and Thanes 
 The old witchcraft is spread.' " 
 
 Longfellow's Saga of King Olaf. 
 
 The girl stood silent, and a faint blush crimsoned 
 her cheeks. The young men had risen at her 
 entrance, and in one fleeting glance she recognized 
 Errington, though she gave no sign to that effect. 
 
 " See, my darling," continued her father, 
 " here are English visitors to Norway. This is 
 Sir Philip Errington, v^ho travels through our 
 wild waters in the great steam yacht now at 
 anchor in the Fjord ; and this is his friend, Mr. — 
 Mr. — Lorimer, — have I caught your name rightly, 
 my lad ? " he continued, turning to George Lori- 
 mer with a kindly smile. 
 
 " You have, sir," answered that gentleman 
 promptly, and then he was mute, feeling curiously 
 abashed in the presence of this royal-looking young 
 lady, who, encircled by her father's arm, raised 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 101 
 
 her deep, dazzling blue eyes, and serenely bent 
 her stately head to him as his name was mentioned. 
 
 The old farmer went on, " Welcome them, 
 Thelma mine ! — friends are scarce in these days, 
 and we must not be ungrateful for good company. 
 What ! what ! I know honest lads when I see 
 them ! Smile on them, my Thelma ! — and then we 
 will warm their hearts with another cup of 
 wine." 
 
 As he spoke, the maiden advanced with a grace- 
 ful, even noble air, and extending both her hands 
 to each of the visitors in turn, she said — 
 
 " I am your servant, friends ; in entering this 
 house you do possess it. Peace and heart's 
 greeting ! " 
 
 The words were a literal translation of a salu- 
 tation perfectly common in many parts of Norway 
 — a mere ordinary expression of politeness ; but, 
 uttered in the tender, penetrating tones of the 
 most musical voice they had ever heard, and ac- 
 companied by the warm, frank, double hand-clasp 
 of those soft, small, daintily shaped hands, the 
 effect on the minds of the generally self-possessed, 
 fashionably bred young men of the world, was to 
 confuse and bewilder them to the last degree. 
 What could they answer to this poetical, quaint 
 formula of welcome ? The usual platitudes, such 
 as " Delighted, I'm sure ; " or, " Most happy — aw, 
 charmed to meet you ? " No ; these remarks, 
 deemed intelligent by the lady rulers of London 
 
102 THELMA. 
 
 drawing-rooms, would, they felt, never do here. 
 As well put a gentleman in modern evening dress 
 en face with a half-nude scornfully beautiful statue 
 of Apollo, as trot out threadbare, insincere com- 
 monplaces in the hearing of this clear-eyed child 
 of nature, whose pure, perfect face seemed to 
 silently repel the very passing shadow of a false- 
 hood. 
 
 Philip's brain whirled round and about in 
 search of some suitable reply, but could find none ; 
 and Lorimer felt himself blushing like a school- 
 boy, as he stammered out something incoherent 
 and eminently foolish, though he had sense enough 
 left to appreciate the pressure of those lovely hands 
 as long as it lasted. 
 
 Thelma, however, appeared not to notice their 
 deep embarrassment — she had not yet done with 
 them. Taking the largest goblet on the table, sbe 
 filled it to the brim with wine, and touched it with 
 her lips, — then with a smile in which a thousand 
 radiating sunbeams seemed to quiver and sparkle, 
 she lifted it towards Errington. The grace of her 
 attitude and action wakened him out of his state 
 of dreamy bewilderment — in his soul he devoutly 
 blessed these ancient family customs, and arose to 
 the occasion like a man. Clasping with a tender 
 reverence the hands that upheld the goblet, he 
 bent his handsome head and drank a deep draught, 
 while his dark curls almost touched her fair ones, 
 — and then an insane jealousy possessed him for a 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 103 
 
 moment, as he watched her go through the same 
 ceremony with Lorimer. 
 
 She next carried the now more than half- 
 emptied cup to the honcUy and said as she held it, 
 laughing softly — 
 
 " Drink it all, father ! — if you leave a drop, you 
 know these gentlemen will quarrel with us, or 
 you with them." 
 
 " That is true ! " said Olaf Giildmar with great 
 gravity ; '' but it will not be my fault, child, nor 
 the fault of wasted wine." 
 
 And he drained the glass to its dregs and set 
 it upside down on the table with a deep sigh of 
 satisfaction and refreshment. The ceremony con- 
 cluded, it was evident the ice of reserve was con- 
 sidered broken, for Thelma seated herself like a 
 young queen, and motioned her visitors to do the 
 same with a gesture of gracious condescension. 
 
 " How did you find your way here ? " she 
 asked with sweet, yet direct abruptness, giving 
 Sir Philip a quick glance, in which there was a 
 sparkle of mirth, though her long lashes veiled it 
 almost instantly. 
 
 Her entire lack of stiffness and reserve set 
 the young men at their ease, and they fell into 
 conversation freely, though Errington allowed 
 Lorimer to tell the story of their trespass 
 in his own fashion without interference. He 
 instinctively felt that the young lady who listened 
 with so demure a smile to that plausible narrative, 
 
104 THELMA. 
 
 knew well enough the real motive that had 
 brought them thither, though she apparently had 
 her own reasons for keeping silence on the point, 
 as whatev^er she may have thought, she said 
 nothing. 
 
 Lorimer skilfully avoided betraying the fact 
 that they had watched her through the window, 
 and had listened to her singing. And Thelma 
 heard all the explanations patiently till Bosekop 
 was mentioned, and then her fair face grew cold 
 and stern. 
 
 " From whom did you hear of us there ? " she 
 enquired. " We do not mix with the people, — why 
 should they speak of us ? " 
 
 " The truth is," interposed Errington, resting 
 his eyes with a sense of deep delight on the 
 beautiful rounded figure and lovely features that 
 were turned towards him, " I heard of you first 
 through my pilot — one Yaldemar Svensen." 
 
 " Ha, ha ! " cried old Griildmar with some 
 excitement, " there is a fellow who cannot hold 
 his tongue ! What have I said to thee, child ? A 
 bachelor is no better than a gossiping old woman. 
 He that is always alone must talk, if it be only to 
 woods and waves. It is the married men who 
 know best how excellent it is to keep silence ! " 
 
 They all laughed, though Thelma's eyes had a 
 way of looking pensive even when she smiled. 
 
 " You would not blame poor Svensen because 
 he is alone, father ? " she said. " Is ho not to be 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 105 
 
 pitied ? Surely it is a cruel fate to have none to 
 love in all the wide world. Nothing can Le more 
 cruel ! " 
 
 Giildmar surveyed her humorously. '' Hear 
 her ! " he said. " She talks as if she knew all 
 aDout such things ; and if ever a child was igno- 
 rant of sorrow, surely it is my Thelma ! Every 
 flower and bird in the place loves her. Yes ; I 
 have thought sometimes the very sea loves her. 
 It must ; she is so much upon it. And as for her 
 old father " — he laughed a little, though a sus- 
 picious moisture softened his keen eyes — "why, 
 he doesn't love her at all. Ask her ! She 
 knows it." 
 
 Thelma rose quickly and kissed him. How 
 deliciously those sweet lips pouted, thought Erring- 
 ton, and what an unreasonable and extraordinary 
 grudge he seemed to bear towards the venerable 
 bonde for accepting that kiss with so little apparent 
 emotion ! 
 
 '' Hush, father ! " she said. " These friends 
 can see too plainly how much you spoil me. Tell 
 me," — and she turned with a sudden pretty im- 
 periousness to Lorimer, who started at her voice 
 as a racehorse starts at its rider^s touch, — "what 
 person in Bosekop spoke of us ? " 
 
 Lorimer was rather at a loss, inasmuch as no 
 one in the small town had actually spoken of 
 them, and Mr. Dyce worthy's remarks concerning 
 those who were " ejected with good reason from 
 
106 THELMA. 
 
 respectable society," might not, after all, have 
 applied to the Griildmar family. Indeed, it now- 
 seemed an absurd and improbable supposition. 
 Therefore he replied cautiously — 
 
 " The Reverend Mr. Dyceworthy, I think, has 
 some knowledge of you. Is he not a friend of 
 yours ? " 
 
 These simple words had a most unexpected 
 effect. Olaf Giildmar sprang up from his seat 
 flaming with wrath. It was in vain that his 
 daughter laid a restraining hand upon his arm. 
 The name of the Lutheran divine had sufficed to 
 put him in a towering passion, and he turned 
 furiously upon the astonished Errington. 
 
 " Had I known you came from the devil, sir, 
 you should have returned to him speedily, with 
 hot words to hasten your departure ! I would 
 have split that glass to atoms before I would 
 have drained it after you ! The friends of a false 
 heart are no friends for me, — the followers of a 
 pretended sanctity find no welcome under my roof! 
 Why not have told me at once that you came as 
 spies, hounded on by the liar Dyceworthy ? Why 
 not have confessed it openl}^ ? . . . and not have 
 played the thief's trick on an old fool, who, for 
 once, misled by your manl^^ and upright bearing, 
 consented to lay aside the rightful suspicions he 
 at first entertained of your purpose ? Shame on 
 you, young men ! shame ! " 
 
 The words coursed impetuously from his lips ; 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 107 
 
 his face burned with indignation. He had broken 
 away from his daughter's hold, while she, pale and 
 very still, stood leaning one hand upon the table. 
 His white hair was tossed back from his brow ; his 
 eyes flashed ; his attitude, though vengeful and 
 threatening, was at the same time so bold and 
 commanding that Lorimer caught himself lazily 
 admiring the contour of his figure and wondering 
 how he would look in marble as an infuriated 
 Yiking. 
 
 One excellent thing in the dispositions of both 
 Errington and Lorimer was that they never lost 
 temper. Either they were too lazy or too well- 
 bred. Undoubtedly they both considered it " bad 
 form." This indifference stood them in good 
 stead now. They showed no sign whatever of 
 offence, though the old farmer's outbreak of wrath 
 was so sudden and unlocked for, that they re- 
 mained for a moment silent out of sheer surprise. 
 Then, rising with unruffled serenity, they took up 
 their caps preparatory to departure. Errington's 
 gentle, refined voice broke the silence. 
 
 " You are in error, Mr. Guldmar," he said in 
 chilly but perfectly polite tones. " I regret you 
 should be so hasty in your judgment of us. If 
 you accepted us as ^ men ' when you first met us, 
 I cannot imagine why you should now take us for 
 spies. The two terms are by no means synony- 
 mous I know nothing of Mr. Dyce worthy beyond 
 that he called upon me, and that I, as in duty 
 
108 THELMA. 
 
 bound, returned his call. I am ignorant of his 
 character and disposition. I may add that I have 
 no desire to be enlightened respecting them. I 
 do not often take a dislike to anybody, but it so 
 happens that I have done so in the case of Mr. 
 Dyceworthy. I know Lorimer doesn't care for 
 him, and I don't think my other two friends are 
 particularly attached to him. I have nothing 
 more to say, except that I fear we have outstayed 
 our welcome. Permit us now to wish you good 
 evening. And you," — he hesitated, and turned 
 with a low bow to Thelma, who had listened to 
 his words with a gradually dawning brightness on 
 her face — *'you will, I trust, exonerate us from 
 any intentional offence towards your father or 
 yourself? Our visit has proved unlucky, but " 
 
 Thelma interrupted him by laying her fair 
 little hand on his arm with a wistful, detaining 
 gesture, which, though seemingly familiar, was 
 yet perfectly sweet and natural. The light touch 
 thrilled his blood, and sent it coursing through 
 his veins at more than customary speed. 
 
 " Ah, then, you also will be foolish 1 " she said, 
 with a naive protecting air of superior dignity. 
 *' Do you not see my father is sorry ? Have we 
 all kissed the cup for nothing, or was the wine 
 wasted ? Not a drop was spilt ; how then, if we 
 are friends should we part in coldness ? Father, 
 it is you to be ashamed, — not these gentlemen, 
 who are strangers to the Altenfjord, and know 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 109 
 
 nothing of Mr. Dyceworthy or any other person 
 dwellino- here. And when their vessel sails awav 
 again over the wide seas to their own shores, how 
 will you have them think of you ? As one whose 
 heart was all kindness, and who helped to make 
 their days pass pleasantly ? or as one who, in 
 unreasonable anger, forgot the duties of sworn 
 hospitality ? " 
 
 The bonde listened to her full, sweet, re- 
 proachful voice as a tough old lion might listen to 
 the voice of its tamer,, uncertain whether to yield 
 or spring. He wiped his heated brow and stared 
 around him shamefacedly. Finally, as though 
 swallowing his pride with a gulp, he drew a long 
 breath, took a couple of determined strides for- 
 ward, and held out his hands, one to Errington 
 and the other to Lorimer, by whom they were 
 warmly grasped. 
 
 " There, my lads," he said rapidly. " I'm 
 sorry I spoke ! Forgive and forget ! That is the 
 worst of me — my blood is up in a minute, and 
 old though I am, I'm not old enough yet to be 
 patient. And when I hear the name of that 
 sneak Dyceworthy, — by the gates of Yalhalla, I 
 feel as if my own house would not hold me I No, 
 no ; don't go yet ! Nearly ten ? Well, no matter, 
 the night is like the day here, you see — it doesn't 
 matter when one goes to bed. Come and sit in 
 the porch awhile ; I shall get cool out there. 
 Ah, Thelma, child! I see thee laugliing at thy 
 
110 THELMA. 
 
 old father's temper ! Never mind, never mind ; 
 is it not for thy sake after all ? " 
 
 And, holding Errington by the arm, he led the 
 way into the fine old porch, Lorimer following with 
 rather a flushed face, for he, as he passed out of 
 the room, had managed to pick up and secrete the 
 neglected little bunch of daisies, before noticed as 
 having fallen on the floor. He put them quickly 
 in his breast pocket with a curious sense of 
 satisfaction, though he had no intention of keep- 
 ino" them, and leaned idly against the clambering 
 roses, watching Thelma, as she drew a low stool 
 to her father's feet and sat there. A balmy wind 
 blew in from the Fjord, and rustled mysteriously 
 among the pines ; the sky was flecked here and 
 there with fleecy clouds, and a number of birds 
 were singing in full chorus. Old Giildmar heaved 
 a sigh of relief, as though his recent outburst of 
 passion had done him good. 
 
 " I will tell you. Sir Philip," he said, ruffling 
 his daughter's curls as he spoke, — '' I will tell 
 you why I detest the villain Dyceworthy. It is 
 but fair you should know it. Now, Thelma ! — why 
 that push to my knee? You fear I may ofi'end 
 our friends again ? Nay, I will take good care. 
 And so, first of all, I ask you, what is your 
 religion? Though I know you cannot be 
 Lutherans." 
 
 Errington was somewhat taken aback by the 
 question. He smiled. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. Ill 
 
 "My dear sir," lie replied at last; "to be 
 frank with you, I really do not think I have any 
 religion. If I had, I suppose I should call myself 
 a Christian, though, judging from the behaviour 
 of Christians in general, I cannot be one of them 
 after all, — for I belong to no sect, I go to no 
 church, and I have never read a tract in my life. 
 I have a profound reverence and admiration for 
 the character and doctrine of Christ, and I believe 
 if I had had the privilege of knowing and con- 
 versing with Him, I should not have deserted 
 him in extremity as his timorous disciples did. 
 I believe in an all-wise Creator; so you see I am 
 not an atheist. My mother was an Austrian and 
 a Catholic, and I have a notion that, as a small 
 child, I was brought up in that creed ; but I'm 
 afraid I don't know much about it now." 
 
 The honde nodded gravely. " Thelma, here," 
 
 he said, " is a Catholic, as her mother was " he 
 
 stopped abruptly, and a deep shadow of pain 
 darkened his features. Thelma looked up, — her 
 large blue eyes filled with sudden tears, and she 
 pressed her father's hand between her own, as 
 though in sympathy with some undeclared grief; 
 then she looked at Errington with a sort of 
 wistful appeal. Philip's heart leaped as he met 
 that soft beseeching glance, which seemed to 
 entreat his patience with the old man for her 
 sake, — he felt himself drawn into a bond of union 
 with her thoughts, and in his innermost soul he 
 
112 THELMA. 
 
 swore as knightly a vow of chivalry and reverence 
 for the fair maiden who thus took him into her 
 silent confidence, as though he were some gallant 
 Crusader of old time, pledged to defend his lady's 
 honour unto death. Olaf Griildmar, after a long 
 and apparently sorrowful pause, resumed his con- 
 versation. 
 
 "Yes," he said, *' Thelma is a Catholic, though 
 here she has scarcely any opportunity for per- 
 forming the duties of her religion. It is a pretty 
 and a graceful creed, — well fitted for women. As 
 for me, I am made of sterner stuff, and the 
 maxims of that gentle creature, Christ, find no 
 echo in my soul. But you, young sir," he added, 
 turning suddenly on Lorimer, who was engaged 
 in meditatively smoothing out on his palm one of 
 the fallen rose-petals — " you have not spoken. 
 What faith do you profess ? It is no curiosity 
 that prompts me to ask, — I only seek not to 
 offend." 
 
 Lorimer laughed languidly. " Upon my life, 
 Mr. Giildmar, you really ask too much of me. I 
 haven't any faith at all ; not a shred ! It's been all 
 knocked out of me. I tried to hold on to a last 
 remaining bit of Christian rope in the universal 
 shipwreck, but that was torn out of my hands by 
 a scientific professor who ought to know what he 
 is about, and — and — now I drift along anyhow ! " 
 
 Giildmar smiled dubiously ; but Thelma looked 
 at the speaker with astonished, regretful eyes. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 113 
 
 " I am sorry," slie said simply. " Yon must 
 be often unhappy." 
 
 Lorimer was not disconcerted, though her 
 evident pity caused an unwonted flush on his 
 face. 
 
 " Oh no," he said in answer to her, " I am not 
 a miserable sort of fellow by any means. For 
 instance, I'm not afraid of death, — lots of very 
 religious people are horribly afraid of it, though 
 they all the time declare it's the only path to 
 heaven. They're not consistent at all. You see 
 I believe in nothing, — I came from nothing, — I am 
 nothing, — I shall be nothing. That being plain, I 
 am all right." 
 
 Guldmar laughed. " You are an odd lad," he 
 said good-humouredly. " You are in the morning 
 of life ; there are always mists in the morning as 
 there are in the evening. In the light of your full 
 manhood you will see these things differently. 
 Your creed of Nothing provides no moral law, — no 
 hold on the conscience, no restraint on the passions, 
 — don't you see that ? " 
 
 Lorimer smiled with a very winning and boyish 
 candour. " You are exceedingly good, sir, to 
 credit me with a conscience ! I don't think I have 
 one, — I'm sure I have no passions. I have always 
 been too lazy to encourage them, and as for moral 
 law, — I adhere to morality with the greatest strict- 
 ness, because if a fellow is immoral, he ceases to 
 be a gentleman. Now, as there are very few 
 
 VOL. I. 8 
 
114 THELMA. 
 
 gentlemen nowadays, I fancy I'd like to be one 
 as long as I can." 
 
 Errington here interposed. " You mustn't 
 take him seriously, Mr. Gruldmar," he said ; " he's 
 never serious himself. I'll give you his character 
 in a few words. He belongs to no religious party, 
 it's true, — -but he's a first-rate fellow, — the best 
 fellow I know ! " 
 
 Lorimer glanced at him quietly with a gratified 
 expression on his face. But he said nothing, for 
 Thelma was regarding him with a most bewitch- 
 ing smile. 
 
 " Ah ! " she said, shaking a reproachful finger 
 at him, " you do love all nonsense, that I can see ! 
 You would make every person laugh, if you could, 
 — is it not so ? " 
 
 " Well, yes," admitted George, " I think I 
 would ! But it's a herculean task sometimes. If 
 you had ever been to London, Miss Guldmar, you 
 would understand how difficult it is to make people 
 even smile, — and when they do, the smile is not a 
 very natural one." 
 
 " Why ? " she exclaimed. " Are they all so 
 miserable ? " 
 
 " They pretend to be, if they're not," said 
 Lorimer ; " it is the fashion there to find fault 
 with everything and everybody." 
 
 " That is so," said Guldmar thoughtfully. " I 
 visited London once and thought I was in hell. 
 Nothing but rows of hard, hideously built houses, 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 1.15 
 
 long streets, and dirty alleys, and the people had 
 weary faces all, as though Nature had refused to 
 bless them. A pitiful city, — doubly pitiful to the 
 eyes of a man like myself, whose life has been 
 passed among fjords and mountains such as these. 
 Well, now, as neither of you are Lutherans, — in 
 fact, as neither of you seem to know what you 
 are," and he laughed, " I can be frank, and speak 
 out as to my own belief. I am proud to say I 
 liave never deserted the faith of my fathers, — the 
 faith that makes a man's soul strong and fearless, 
 and defiant of evil, — the faith that is supposed to 
 be crushed out among us, but that is still alive 
 and rooted in the hearts of many who can trace 
 back their lineage to the ancient Yikings as I 
 can, — yes ! — rooted firm and fast, — and however 
 much some of the more timorous feign to conceal 
 it in the tacit acceptance of another creed, there 
 are those who can never shake it off, and who 
 never desire to forsake it. I am one of these 
 few. Shame must fall on the man who wilfully 
 deserts the faith of his warrior - ancestry ! 
 Sacred to me for ever be the names of Odin and 
 Thor ! " 
 
 He raised his hand aloft with a proud gesture, 
 and his eyes flashed. Errington was interested, 
 but not suprised; the old hondes declaration of 
 his creed seemed eminently fitted to his character. 
 Lorimer's face brightened, — here was a novelty — a 
 man, who in all the conflicting storms of modern 
 
116 THELMA. 
 
 opinion, sturdily clung to the traditions of his 
 forefathers. 
 
 " By Jove ! " he exclaimed eagerly, *' I think 
 the worship of Odin would suit me perfectly ! It's 
 a rousing, fighting sort of religion, — I'm positive 
 it would make a man of me. Will you initiate 
 me into the mysteries, Mr. Guldraar ? There's a 
 fellow in London who writes poetry on Indian 
 subjects, and who, it is said, thinks Buddhism 
 might satisfy his pious yearnings, — but I think 
 Odin would be a personage to command more 
 respect than Buddha, — at any rate, I should like to 
 try him. Will you give me a chance ? " 
 
 Olaf Glildmar smiled gravely, and rising from 
 his seat, pointed to the western sky. 
 
 " See yonder threads of filmy white," he said, 
 " that stretch across the wide expanse of blue ! 
 They are the lingering, fading marks of light 
 clouds, — and even while we watch them, they shall 
 pass and be no more. Such is the emblem of your 
 life, young man — you that would, for an idle jest 
 or pastime, presume to search into the mysteries 
 of Odin ! For you they are not, — your spirit is 
 not of the stern mould that waits for death as 
 gladly as the bridegroom waits for the bride ! 
 The Christian heaven is an abode for girls and 
 babes, — Yalhalla is the place for men ! I tell you, 
 my creed is as divine in its origin as any that 
 ever existed on the earth ! The Eainbow Bridge 
 is a fairer pathway from death to life than the 
 
 I 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 117 
 
 doleful Cross, — and better far the dark summoning 
 eyes of a beauteous Valkyrie, than the grinning 
 skull and cross-bones, the Christian emblem of 
 mortality. Thelma thinks, — and her mother before 
 her thought also, — that different as my way of 
 belief is to the accepted new creeds of to-day, it 
 will be all right with me in the next w^orld — that 
 I shall have as good a place in heaven as any Chris- 
 tian, It may be so, — I care not ! But see you, — 
 the key-note of all the civilization of to-day is dis- 
 content, while I, — thanks to the gods of my fathers, 
 am happy, and desire nothing that I have not." 
 
 He paused and seemed absorbed. The young 
 men watched his fine inspired features with lively 
 interest. Thelma's head was turned away from 
 them so that her face was hidden. By-and-by 
 he resumed in quieter tones — 
 
 " Now, my lads, you know what we are — both 
 of us accursed in the opinion of the Lutheran 
 community. My child belongs to the so-called 
 idolatrous Church of Eome. I am one of the very 
 last of the ' heathen barbarians,' " — and the old 
 fellow smiled sarcastically, " though, truth to tell, 
 for a barbarian, I am not such a fool as some folks 
 would have you think. If the snuffling Dyce- 
 worthy and I competed at a spelling examination, 
 I'm pretty sure 'tis I would have the prize ! But, 
 as I said, — you know us, — and if our ways are 
 likely to offend you, then let us part good friends 
 before the swords are fairly drawn." 
 
118 THELMA. 
 
 '' No sword will be drawn on my side, I assure 
 you, sir," said Errington, advancing and laying 
 one hand on the hondes shoulder. " I hope you 
 will believe me when I say I shall esteem 
 it an honour and a privilege to know more of 
 you." 
 
 " And though you won't accept me as a servant 
 of Odin," added Lorimer, " you really cannot pre- 
 vent me from trying to make m3^self agreeable to 
 you. I warn you, Mr. Gilldmar, I shall visit you 
 pretty frequently ! Such men as you, are not often 
 met with." 
 
 Olaf Glildmar looked surprised. " You really 
 mean it ? " he said. " Nothing that I have told 
 you affects you ? You still seek our friendship ? " 
 
 They both earnestly assured him that they 
 did, and as they spoke Thelma rose from her low 
 seat and faced them with a bright smile. 
 
 " Do you know," she said, " that you are the 
 first people who, on visiting us once, have ever 
 cared to come again ? Ah, you look surprised, but 
 it is so, is it not, father ? " 
 
 Giildmar nodded a grave assent. 
 
 " Yes," she continued demurely, counting on 
 her little white fingers, " we are three things — 
 first, we are accursed ; secondly, w^e have the evil 
 eye ; thirdly, we are not respectable ! " 
 
 xlnd she broke into a peal of laughter, ringing 
 and sweet as a chime of bells. The young men 
 joined her in it ; and, still with an amused expres- 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 119 
 
 slon on her lovely face, leaning her head back 
 against a cluster of pale roses, she went on — 
 
 " My father dislikes Mr. Dyce worthy so much, 
 because he wants to — to — oh, what is it they do 
 to savages, father ? Yes, I know, — to convert us, 
 — to make us Lutherans. And when he finds it 
 all no use, he is angry; and, though he is so 
 religious, if he hears any one teUing some untruth 
 about us in Bosekop, he will add another thing 
 equally untrue, and so it grows and grows, and 
 — why ! what is the matter with you ? " she ex- 
 claimed in surprise as Errington scowled and 
 clenched his fist in a peculiarly threatening 
 manner. 
 
 " I should like to knock him down ! " he said 
 briefly under his breath. 
 
 Old Gilldmar laughed and looked at the young 
 baronet approvingly. 
 
 " Who knows, who knows ! " he said cheer- 
 fully. " You may do it some day ! It will be a 
 good deed ! I will do it myself if he troubles me 
 much more. And now let us make some arrnnge- 
 ment with you. When will you come and see us 
 again ? " 
 
 " You must visit me first," said Sir Philip 
 quickly. " If you and your daughter will honour 
 me with your company to-morrow, I shall be 
 proud and pleased. Consider the yacht at your 
 service." 
 
 Thelma, resting among the roses, looked across 
 
120 THELMA. 
 
 at him with serious, questioning eyes — eyes that 
 seemed to be asking his intentions towards both 
 her and her father. 
 
 Griildmar accepted the invitation at once, and, 
 the hour for their visit next day being fixed and 
 agreed upon, the young men began to take their 
 leave. As Errington clasped Thelma's hand in 
 farewell, he made a bold venture. He touched 
 a rose that hung just above her head almost 
 dropping on her hair. 
 
 " May I have it ? " he asked in a low tone. 
 
 Their eyes met. The girl flushed deeply, and 
 then grew pale. She broke off the flower and 
 gave it to him, — then turned to Lorimer to say 
 good-bye. They left her then, standing under 
 the porch, shading her brow with one hand from 
 the glittering sunlight as she watched them de- 
 scending the winding path to the shore, accom- 
 panied by her father, who hospitably insisted on 
 seeing them into their boat. They looked back 
 once or twice, always to see the slender, tall white 
 figure standing there like an angel resting in a 
 bower of roses, with the sunshine flashing on 
 a golden crown of hair. At the last turn in the 
 pathway Philip raised his hat and waved it, but 
 whether she condescended to wave her hand in 
 answer he could not see. 
 
 Left alone, she sighed, and went slowly into 
 the house to resume her spinning. Hearing the 
 whirr of the wheel, the servant Britta entered. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 121 
 
 " You are not going in the boat, Froken ? " she 
 asked in a tone of mingled deference and affection. 
 
 Thehna looked up, smiled faintly, and shook 
 her head in the negative. 
 
 " It is late, Britta, and I am tired." 
 
 And the deep blue eyes had an intense dreamy 
 light within them as they wandered from the 
 wheel to the wide-open window, and rested on 
 the majestic darkness of the overshadowing, 
 solemn pines. 
 
122 THELMA. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " In mezzo del niio core c' e una spina; 
 Non c' e barbier che la possa levare, — 
 Solo il mio amore colla sua manioa." 
 
 Eime PopoJari. 
 
 Errixgtox and Lorimer pulled away across the 
 Fjord in a silence that lasted for many minutes. 
 Old Guldmar stood on the edge of his little pier 
 to watch them out of sight. So, till their boat 
 turned the sharp corner of the protecting rock 
 that hid the landing-place from view, they saw 
 his picturesque figure and gleaming silvery hair 
 outlined clearly against the background of the 
 sky — a sky now tenderly flushed with pink like 
 the inside of a delicate shell. When they could 
 no longer perceive him they still rowed on speak- 
 ing no word, — the measured, musical plash of the 
 oars through the smooth, dark olive-green water 
 alone breaking the stillness around them. There 
 was a curious sort of hushed breathlessness in the 
 air ; fantastic, dream-like lights and shadows 
 played on the little wrinkling waves ; sudden 
 flushes of crimson came and went in the western 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 123 
 
 horizon, and over the high summits of the sur- 
 rounding mountains mysterious shapes, formed of 
 purple and grey mist, rose up and crept softly 
 downwards, winding in and out deep valleys and 
 dark ravines, like wandering spirits sent on some 
 secret and sorrowful errand. After a while 
 Errington said almost vexedly — 
 
 " Are you struck dumb, George ? Haven't 
 you a word to say to a fellow ? " 
 
 *' Just what I was about to ask you'^' replied 
 Lorimer carelessly ; " and I w^as also going to 
 remark that we hadn't seen your mad friend up at 
 the Glildmar residence." 
 
 " No. Yet I can't help thinking he has some- 
 thing to do with them, all the same," returned 
 Errington meditatively. " I tell you, he swore at 
 me by some old Norwegian infernal place or 
 other. I dare say he's an Odin worshipper, too. 
 But never mind him. What do you think of her ? " 
 
 Lorimer turned lazily round in the boat, so 
 that he faced his companion. 
 
 " Well, old fellow, if you ask me frankly, I 
 think she is the most beautiful woman I ever saw, 
 or, for that matter, ever heard of. And I am an 
 impartial critic — perfectly impartial." 
 
 And, resting on his oar, he dipped the blade 
 musingly in and out of the water, watching the 
 bright drops fall with an oil-like smoothness as 
 they trickled from the polished wood and glittered 
 in the late sunshine like vari-coloured jewels. 
 
124 THELMA. 
 
 Then he glanced curiously at Philip, who sat 
 silent, but whose face was very grave and earnest, 
 — even noble, with that shade of profound thought 
 upon it. He looked like one who had suddenly 
 accepted a high trust, in which there was not 
 only pride, but tenderness. Lorimer shook him- 
 self together, as he himself would have expressed 
 it, and touched his friend's arm half-playfully. 
 
 '' You've met the king's daughter of Norroway 
 after all, Phil ; " and his light accents had a touch 
 of sadness in them ; " and you'll have to bring 
 her home, as the old song says. I believe the 
 ' eligible ' is caught at last. The ' woman ' of the 
 piece has turned up, and your chum must play 
 second fiddle — eh, old boy ? " 
 
 Errington flushed hotly, but caught Lorimer's 
 hand and pressed it with tremendous fervour. 
 
 " By Jove, I'll wring it off your wrist if you 
 talk in that fashion, George ! " he said, with a 
 laugh. " You'll always be the same to me, and 
 you know it. I tell you," and he pulled his mous- 
 tache doubtfully, " I don't know quite what's the 
 matter with me. That girl fascinates me ! I feel 
 a fool in her presence. Is that a sign of being in 
 love I wonder ? " 
 
 " Certainly not ! " returned George promptly ; 
 " for / feel a fool in her presence, and I'm not in 
 love." 
 
 '^ How do you know that ? " And Errington 
 glanced at him keenly and inquiringly. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 125 
 
 " How do I knoAv ? Come, I like that ! Have 
 I studied myself all these years for nothing? 
 Look here," — and he carefully drew out the little 
 withering bunch of daisies he had purloined — 
 " these are for you. I knew you wanted them, 
 though you hadn't the impudence to pick them 
 up, and I had. I thought you might like to put 
 them under your pillow, and all that sort of thing, 
 because if one is resolved to become love-lunatic, 
 one may as well do the thing properly out and 
 out, — I hate all half-measures. Now, if the 
 remotest thrill of sentiment were in me, you can 
 understand, I hope, that w^ild horses would not 
 have torn this adorable posy from my possession ! 
 I should have kept it, and you would never have 
 known of it," and he laughed softly. " Take it, 
 old fellow ! You're rich now, with the rose she 
 gave you besides. What is all your wealth com- 
 pared with the sacred preciousness of such 
 blossoms ! There, don't look so awfully ecstatic, 
 or I shall be called upon to ridicule you in the 
 interests of common sense. Say you're in love 
 with the girl at once, and have done with it. 
 Don't beat about the bush ! " 
 
 " I'm not sure about it," said Philip, taking 
 the daisies gratefully, however, and pressing them 
 in his pocket-book. " I don't beHeve in love at 
 first sight ! " 
 
 " I do," returned Lorimer decidedly. " Love 
 is electricity. Two telegrams are enough to settle 
 
126 THELMA. 
 
 the business, — one from the eyes of the man, the 
 othei' from those of the woman. Yoii and Miss 
 Giildmar must have exchanged a dozen such 
 messages at least." 
 
 " And you ? " inquired Errington persistently. 
 " You had the same chance as myself." 
 
 George shrugged his shoulders. " My dear 
 boy, there are no wires of communication between 
 the Sun-angel and myself ; nothing but a blank, 
 innocent landscape, over which perhaps some day, 
 the mild lustre of friendship may beam. The girl 
 is beautiful — extraordinarily so ; but I'm not a 
 ' man o' wax,' as Juliet's gabbling old nurse says — 
 not in the least impressionable." 
 
 And forthwith he resumed his oar, saying 
 briskly as he did so — 
 
 " Phil, do you know those other fellows must 
 be swearing at us pretty forcibly for leaving them 
 so long with Dyce worthy. We've been away two 
 hours ! " 
 
 " Not possible ! " cried Errington, amazed, and 
 wielding his oar vigorously. " They'll think 
 me horribly rude. By Jove, they must be bored 
 to death ! " 
 
 And, stimulated by the thought of the penance 
 their friends were enduring, they sent the boat 
 spinning swiftly through the water, and rowed as 
 though they were trying for a race, when they 
 were suddenly pulled up by a loud " Halloo ! " 
 and the sight of another boat coming slowly out 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 127 
 
 from Bosekop, wherein two individuals were 
 standing up, gesticulating violently. 
 
 " There they are ! " exclaimed Lorimer. " I 
 say, Phil, they've hired a special tub, and are 
 coming out to us." 
 
 So it proved. Duprez and Macfarlane had 
 grown tired of waiting for their truant com- 
 panions, and had taken the first clumsy wherry 
 that presented itself, rowed by an even clumsier 
 Norwegian boatman, whom they had been com- 
 pelled to engage also, as he would not let his ugly 
 punt out of his sight, for fear some harm might 
 chance to befall it. Thus attended, they were on 
 their way back to the yacht. With a few long, 
 elegant strokes, Errington and Lorimer sopn 
 brought their boat alongside, and their friends 
 gladly jumped into it, delighted to be free of the 
 company of the wooden-faced mariner they had 
 so reluctantly hired, and who now, on receiving 
 his fee, paddled awkwardly away in his ill -con- 
 structed craft, without either a word of thanks 
 or salutation. Errington began to apologize at 
 once for his long absence, giving as a reason 
 for it, the necessity he found himself under of 
 making a call on some persons of importance in 
 the neighbourhood, whom he had, till now, for- 
 gotten. 
 
 " My good Phil-eep ! " cried Duprez, in his 
 cheery sing-song accent, " why apologize ? We 
 have amused ourselves ! Our dear Sandy has a 
 
128 THELMA. 
 
 vein of humour tliat is astonishing ! We have 
 not wasted our time. No ! We have made Mr. 
 Dyce worthy our slave ; we have conquered him ; 
 we have abased him ! He is what we please, — he 
 is for all gods or for no god, — just as we pull the 
 string ! In plain words, mon cher, that amiable 
 relio'ious is drunk ! " 
 
 " Drunk ! " cried Errington and Lorimer to- 
 gether. " Jove ! you don't mean it ? " 
 
 Macfarlane looked up with a twinkle of satirical 
 humour in his deep-set grey eyes. 
 
 " Ye see," he said seriously, " the Lacrima, 
 or Papist wine as he calls it, was strong — we got 
 him to take a good dose o't — a vera fair dose in- 
 deed. Then, doun he sat, an' fell to convairsing 
 vera pheelosophically o' mony things, — it wad 
 hae done ye gude to hear him, — he was f^iir lost 
 in the mazes o' his metapheesics, for twa flies took 
 a bit saunter through the pleasant dewy lanes o' 
 his forehead, an' he never raised a finger to send 
 them awa' aboot their beeziness. Then I thoct I 
 wad try him wi' the whusky — I had ma pocket 
 flask wi' me, — an' mon ! he was sairly glad and 
 gratefu for the first snack o't ! He said it was 
 deevilish fine stuff, an' so he took ane drappikie, 
 an' anither drappikie, and yet anither drappikie," — 
 Sandy's accent got more and more pronounced as 
 he went on — " an' after a bit, his heed dropt doun, 
 an' he took a wee snoozle of a minute or twa, — 
 then he woke up in a' his strength an' just grappit 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 129 
 
 the flask in his twa hands an' took the hale o't off 
 at a grand, rousin' gulp ! Ma certes ! after it ye 
 shuld ha' seen him laughin' like a feekless fde, 
 an' rubbin' an' rubbin' his heed, till his hair was 
 like the straw kicked roond by a mad coo ! " 
 
 Lorimer lay back in the stern of the boat and 
 laughed uproariously at this extraordinary picture, 
 as did the others. 
 
 " But that is not all," said Duprez, with de- 
 lighted mischief sparkling in his wicked little dark 
 eyes ; " the dear religious opened his heart to us. 
 He spoke thickly, but we could understand him. 
 He was very impressive ! He is quite of my 
 opinion. He says all religion is nonsense, fable, 
 imposture, — Man is the only god. Woman his 
 creature and subject. Again, — man and woman 
 conjoined, make up divinity, necessity, law. He 
 was quite clear on that point. Why did he 
 preach what he did not believe, we asked ? He 
 almost wept ! He replied that the children of 
 this world liked fairy-stories and he was paid 
 to tell them. It was his bread and butter, — 
 would we wish him to have no bread and butter ? 
 We assured him so cruel a thought had no place 
 in our hearts ! Then he is amorous — yes ! the 
 good fat man is amorous ! He would have be- 
 come a priest, but on close examination of the 
 confessionals he saw there was no possibility 
 of seeing, much less kissing a lady penitent 
 through the grating. So he gave up that idea ! 
 
 VOL. I. 9 
 
130 THELMA. 
 
 In His form of faith he can kiss, he says, — he 
 does kiss ! — always a holy kiss, of course ! He is 
 so ingenuous, — so delightfully frank, — it is quite 
 charming ! " 
 
 They laughed again. Sir Philip looked some- 
 what disgusted. 
 
 " What an old brute he must be ! " he said. 
 " Somebody ought to kick him — a holy kick, of 
 course, and therefore more intense and forcible 
 than other kicks." 
 
 " You begin, Phil," laughed Lorimer, " and 
 we'll all follow suit. He'll be like that Indian in 
 ' Yathek ' who rolled himself into a ball ; no one 
 could resist kicking as long as the ball bounded 
 before them, — we, similarly, shall not be able to 
 resist, if Dyceworthy's fat person is once left at 
 our mercy." 
 
 " That was a grand bit he told us, Errington," 
 resumed Macfarlane. " Ye should ha' heard him 
 talk aboot his love-affair ! . . . the saft jelly of a 
 man that he is, to be making up to ony woman." 
 
 At that moment they ran alongside of the 
 Eulalie and threw up their oars. 
 
 " Stop a bit," said Errington. '' Tell us the 
 rest on board." 
 
 The ladder w^as lowered ; they mounted it, and 
 their boat was hauled up to its place. 
 
 " Go on ! " said Lorimer, throwing himself 
 lazily into a deck arm-chair and lighting a cigar, 
 while the others leaned against the yacht rails 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 131 
 
 and followed his example. " Go on, Sandy — this 
 is fun ! Dyceworthy's amours must be amusing. 
 I suppose he's after that ugly wooden block of a 
 woman we saw at his house who is so zealous for 
 the ' true gospel ' ? " 
 
 " Not a bit of it," replied Sandy, with immense 
 gravity. " The auld Silenus has better taste. He 
 says there's a young lass running after him, fit to 
 break her heart aboot him, — puir thing, she must 
 have vera little choice o' men ! He hasna quite 
 made np his mind, though he admeets she's as fine 
 a lass as ony man need require. He's sorely 
 afraid she has set herself to catch him, as he says 
 she's an eye like a warlock for a really strong 
 good-looking fellow like himself," and Macfarlane 
 chuckled audibly. " Maybe he'll talce pity on her, 
 maybe he wont ; the misguided lassie will be sairly 
 teazed by him from a' he tauld us in his cups. 
 He gave us her name, — the oddest in a' the warld 
 for sure, — I canna just remember it." 
 
 " I can," said Duprez glibly. " It struck me 
 as quaint and pretty — Thelma Giildmar." 
 
 Errington started so violently, and flushed so 
 deeply, that Lorimer was afraid of some rash 
 outbreak of wrath on his part. But he restrained 
 himself by a strong effort. He merely took his 
 cigar from his mouth and puffed a light cloud of 
 smoke into the air before replying, then he said 
 coldly — 
 
 " I should say Mr. Dyce worthy, besides being a 
 
132 THELMA. 
 
 drunkard, is a most consummate liar. It so happens 
 that the Gruldmars are the very people I have just 
 visited, — highly superior in every way to anybody 
 we have yet met in Norway. In fact, Mr. and 
 Miss Giildmar will come on board to-morrow. I 
 have invited them to dine with us ; you will then 
 be able to judge for yourselves whether the young 
 lady is at all of the description Mr. Dyce worthy 
 gives of her." 
 
 Duprez and Macfarlane exchanged astonished 
 looks. 
 
 " Are ye quite sure," the latter ventured to 
 remark cautiously, " that ye're prudent in what 
 ye have done ? Remember ye have asked no 
 pairson at a' to dine with ye as yet, — it's a vera 
 sudden an' exceptional freak o' hospitality." 
 
 Errington smoked on peacefully and made no 
 answer. Duprez hummed a verse of a French chan- 
 sonnette under his breath and smiled. Lorimer 
 glanced at him with a lazy amusement. 
 
 ''Unburden yourself, Pierre, for heaven's sake! " 
 he said. " Your mind is as uncomfortable as a 
 loaded camel. Let it lie down, while you take 
 off its packages, one by one, and reveal their con- 
 tents. In short, what's up ? " 
 
 Duprez made a rapid, expressive gesture with 
 his hands. 
 
 " Mon cher, T fear to displease Phil-eep ! He 
 has invited these people ; they are coming, — hien ! 
 there is no more to say." 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 133 
 
 " I disagree with ye," interposed Macfarlane. 
 " I think Erring ton should hear what ive ha' 
 heard; it's fair an' just to a mon that he should 
 understand what sort o' folk are gaun to pairtake 
 wi' him at his table. Ye see, Errington, ye should 
 ha' thought a wee, before inviting pairsons o' un- 
 settled an' dootful chairacter " 
 
 " Who says they are ? " demanded Errington 
 half-angrily. " The drunken Dyceworthy ? " 
 
 " He was no sae drunk at the time he tauld 
 us," persisted Macfarlane in his most obstinate, 
 most dictatorial manner. " Ye see, it's just this 
 way " 
 
 " Ah, ^9arc/o/2 / " interrupted Duprez briskly. 
 '• Our dear Sandy is an excellent talker, but he is 
 a little slow. Thus it is, mon cher Errington. This 
 gentleman named Giildmar had a most lovely wife 
 — a mysterious lady, with an evident secret. The 
 beautiful one was never seen in the church or in 
 any town or village ; she was met sometimes on 
 hills, by rivers, in valleys, carrying her child in 
 her arms. The people grew afraid of her ; but, 
 now, see what happens ! Suddenly, she appears 
 no more ; some one ventures to ask this Monsieur 
 Giildmar, ' What has become of Madame ? ' His 
 answer is brief. ' She is dead ! ' Satisfactory so 
 far, yet not quite ; for, Madame being dead, then 
 what has become of the corpse of Madame ? It 
 was never seen, — no coffin was ever ordered, — and 
 apparently it was never buried! Bienl What 
 
134 THELMA. 
 
 follows ? The good people of Bosekop draw the 
 only conclusion possible — Monsieur Giildmar, who 
 is said to have a terrific temper, killed Madame 
 and made away with her body. Voila ! " 
 
 And Duprez waved his hand with an air of 
 entire satisfaction. 
 
 Errington's brow grew sombre. '' This is the 
 story, is it ? " he asked at last. 
 
 '' It is enough, is it not ? " laughed Duprez. 
 " But, after all, what matter ? It will be novel to 
 dine with a mur " 
 
 " Stop ! " said Philip fiercely, with so much 
 authority that the sparkling Pierre was startled. 
 '' Call no man by such a name till you know he 
 deserves it. If Giildmar was suspected, as you 
 say, why didn't somebody arrest him on the 
 charge ? " 
 
 " Because, ye see," replied Macfarlane, " there 
 was not sufficient proof to warrant such a pro- 
 ceeding. Moreover, the actual meenister of the 
 parish declared it was a richt, an' said this 
 Giildmar was a inon o' vera queer notions, an' 
 maybe, had buried his wife wi' certain ceremonies 
 
 peculiar to himself What's wrong wi' ye 
 
 now ? 
 
 For a light had flashed on Errington's mind, 
 and with the quick comprehension it gave him, 
 his countenance cleared. He laughed. 
 
 '' That's very likely," he said ; " Mr. Giildmar 
 is a character. He follows the faith of Odin, 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 135 
 
 and not even Dyceworthy can convert him to 
 Christianity I " 
 
 Macfarlane stared with a sort of stupefied 
 solemnity. 
 
 " Mon ! " he exclaimed, " ye never mean to say 
 there's an actual pnir human creature that in this 
 blessed, enlightened nineteenth century of ours, is 
 so far misguidit as to worship the fearfu gods o' 
 the Scandinavian meethology ? " 
 
 " Ah ! " yawned Lorimer, " you may wonder 
 away, Sandy, but it's true enough ! Old Grtlldmar 
 is an Odinite. In this blessed, enlightened nine- 
 teenth century of ours, when Christians amuse 
 themselves by despising and condemning each 
 other, and thus upsetting all the precepts of the 
 Master they profess to follow, there is actually a 
 man who sticks to the traditions of his ancestors. 
 Odd, isn't it ? In this delightful, intellectual age, 
 when more than half of us are discontented with 
 life and yet don't want to die, there is a fine old 
 gentleman, living beyond the Arctic circle, who is 
 perfectly satisfied with his existence — not only that, 
 he thinks death the greatest glory that can befall 
 him. Comfortable state of things altogether ! I'm 
 half inclined to be an Odinite too." 
 
 Sandy still remained lost in astonishment. 
 " Then ye don't believe that he made awa' wi' 
 his wife ? " he inquired slowly. 
 
 " Not in the least ! " returned Lorimer de- 
 cidedly ; " neither will you, to-morrow, when you 
 
136 THELMA. 
 
 see him. He's a great deal better up in literature 
 than you are, my boy, I'd swear, judging from 
 the books he has. And when he mentioned his 
 wife, as he did once, you could see in his face he 
 had never done her any harm. Besides, his 
 daughter " 
 
 "Ah ! but I forgot," interposed Duprez again. 
 " The daughter, Thelma, was the child the mys- 
 teriously vanished lady carried in her arms, 
 wandering with it all about the woods and hills. 
 After her disappearance, another thing extra- 
 ordinary happens. The child also disappears, and 
 Monsieur Giildmar lives alone, avoided carefully 
 by every respectable person. Suddenly the child 
 returns, grown to be nearly a woman — and they 
 say, lovely to an almost impossible extreme. She 
 lives with her father. She, like her strange mother, 
 never enters a church, town, or village — nowhere, 
 in fact, where persons are in any numbers. Three 
 years ago, it appears, she vanished again, but came 
 back at the end of ten months, lovelier than ever. 
 Since then she has remained quiet — composed — 
 but always apart, — she may disappear at any 
 moment. Droll, is it not, Errington ? and the 
 reputation she has is natural ! " 
 
 " Pray state it," said Philip, with freezing cold- 
 ness. " The reputation of a woman is nothing 
 nowadays. Fair game — go on ! " 
 
 But his face was pale, and his eyes blazed 
 dangerously. Almost unconsciously his hand 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 137 
 
 toyed with the rose Thelma had given him, that 
 still ornamented his button-hole. 
 
 '' Mon Dieu ! " cried Duprez in amazement. 
 " But look not at me like that ! It seems to dis- 
 please you, to put you en furew% what I say ! It is 
 not my story, — it is not I, — I know not Made- 
 moiselle Guldmar. But as her beauty is considered 
 superhuman, they say it is the devil who is her 
 parfumeur^ her coiffeur, and who sees after her 
 complexion ; in brief, she is thought to be a witch 
 in full practice, dangerous to life and limb." 
 
 Errington laughed loudly, he was so much 
 relieved. 
 
 " Is that all ? " he said with light contempt. 
 " By Jove ! what a pack of fools there must be 
 about here, — ngly fools too, if they think beauty is 
 a sign of witchcraft. I wonder Dyceworthy isn't 
 scared out of his skin if he positively thinks the 
 so-called witch is setting her cap at him." 
 
 " Ah, but he means to convairt her," said Mac- 
 farlane seriously. " To draw the evil oot o' her, 
 as it were. He said he wad do't by fair means or 
 foul." 
 
 Something in these latter words struck Lori- 
 mer, for, raising himself in his seat, he asked, 
 *' Surely Mr. Dyceworthy, with all his stupidity, 
 doesn't carry it so far as to believe in witch- 
 craft ? " 
 
 " Oh, indeed he does," exclaimed Duprez ; " he 
 believes in it a la lettre ! He has Bible authority 
 
138 THELMA. 
 
 for his belief. He is very firm — firmest when 
 drunk ! " And he laughed gaily. 
 
 Errington muttered something not very flatter- 
 ing to Mr. Dyceworthy's intelligence, which escaped 
 the hearing of his friends ; then he said — 
 
 " Come along, all of you, down into the saloon. 
 We want something to eat. Let the Glildmars 
 alone ; I'm not a bit sorry I've asked them to 
 come to-morrow. I believe you'll all like them 
 immensely." 
 
 They all descended the stair- way leading to 
 the lower part of the yacht, and Macfarlane asked 
 as he followed his host — 
 
 " Is the lass vera bonnie did ye say ? " 
 
 " Bonnie's not the word for it this time," said 
 Lorimer, coolly answering instead of Errington. 
 " Miss Guldmar is a magnificent woman. You 
 never saw such a one, Sandy, my boy ; she'll 
 make you sing small with one look ; she'll wither 
 you up into a kippered herring ! And as for you, 
 Duprez," and he regarded the little Frenchman 
 critically, '' let me see, — you inai/ possibly reach 
 up to her shoulder, — certainly not beyond it." 
 
 " Pas possible I " cried Duprez. " Mademoiselle 
 is a giantess." 
 
 " She needn't be a giantess to overtop you, 
 mon ami,'' laughed Lorimer, with a lazy shrug. 
 " By Jove, I am sleepy, Errington, old boy ; are 
 we never going to bed ? It's no good waiting till 
 it's dark here, you know." 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 139 
 
 " Have something first," said Sir Philip, seating 
 himself at the saloon table, where his steward had 
 laid out a tasty cold collation. " We've had a 
 good deal of climbing about and rowing ; it's 
 taken it out of us a little." 
 
 Thus hospitably adjured, they took their places, 
 and managed to dispose of an excellent supper. 
 The meal concluded, Duprez helped himself to a 
 tiny liqueur glass of Chartreuse, as a wind-up to 
 the exertions of the day, a rnild luxury in which 
 the others joined him, with the exception of Mac- 
 farlane, who was wont to declare that a " mon 
 without his whusky was nae mon at a'," and who, 
 therefore, persisted in burning up his interior 
 mechanism with alcohol in spite of the doctrines 
 of hygiene, and was now absorbed in the work of 
 mixing his lemon, sugar, hot water, and poison — 
 his usual preparation for a night's rest. 
 
 Lorimer, usually conversational, watched him 
 in abstracted silence. Rallied on this morose 
 humour, he rose, shook himself like a retriever, 
 yawned, and sauntered to the piano that occupied 
 a dim corner of the saloon, and began to play with 
 that delicate, subtle touch, which, though it does 
 not always mark the brilliant pianist, distinguishes 
 the true lover of music, to whose ears a rough 
 thump on the instrument or a false note would be 
 most exquisite agony. Lorimer had no pretence 
 to musical talent ; when asked, he confessed he 
 could " strum a little," and he hardly seemed to 
 
140 THELMA. 
 
 see the evident wonder and admiration he awakened 
 in the minds of many to whom such " strumming " 
 as his was infinitely more dehghtful than more 
 practised, finished playing. Just now he seemed 
 undecided, — he commenced a dainty little prelude 
 of Chopin's, then broke suddenly off, and wandered 
 into another strain, wild, pleading, pitiful, and 
 passionate, — a melody so weird and dreamy that 
 even the stolid Macfarlane paused in his toddy- 
 sipping, and Duprez looked round in some wonder- 
 ment. 
 
 " Comme cest beau, ca ! " he murmured. 
 
 Errington " ' I nothing ; he recognized the 
 tune as that w n Thelma had sung at her spin- 
 ning-wheel, and his bold bright eyes grew pensive 
 and soft, as the picture of the fair face and form 
 rose up again before his mind. Absorbed in a 
 reverie, he almost started when Lorimer ceased 
 playing, and said lightly — 
 
 "By-bye, boys! I'm off to bed ! Phil, don't 
 wake me so abominably ^arly as you did this 
 morning. If you do, friendship can hold out no 
 longer — we must part ! " 
 
 " All right ! " laughed Errington good-humour- 
 edly, watching his friend as he sauntered out of 
 the saloon ; then seeing Duprez and Macfarlane 
 rise from the table, he added courteousl}' , " Don't 
 hurry away on Lorimer's account, you two. I'm 
 not in the least sleepy, — I'll sit up with you to any 
 hour." 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 141 
 
 " It is droll to go to bed in broad daylight," 
 said Duprez. " But it must be done. Cher 
 Philippe, your eyes are heavy. * To bed, to bed,' as 
 the excellent Madame Macbeth says. Ah ! quelle 
 feminel What an exciting wife she was for a 
 man ! Come, let us follow our dear Lorimer, — his 
 music was delicious. Good night or good morn- 
 ing? ... I know not which it is in this strange land 
 where the sun shines always ! It is confusing ! " 
 
 They shook hands and separated. Errington, 
 however, unable to compose his mind to rest, went 
 into his cabin merely to come out of it again and 
 betake himself to the deck, wb 3 he decided to 
 walk up and down till he felt si. y. He wished 
 to be alone with his own thoughts for awhile — to 
 try and resolve the meaning of this strange new 
 emotion that possessed him, — a feeling that was half 
 pleasing, half painful, and that certainly moved 
 him to a sort of shame. A man, if he be strong 
 and healthy, is always more or less ashamed when 
 Love, with a single effort, proves him to be weaker 
 than a blade of grass swaying in the wind. 
 What ! all his dignity, all his resoluteness, all his 
 authority swept down by the light touch of a mere 
 willow wand ? for the very sake of his own man- 
 hood and self-respect, he cannot help but be 
 ashamed ! It is as though a little nude, laughing 
 child mocked at a lion's strength and made him a 
 helpless prisoner with a fragile daisy chain. So 
 the god Eros begins his battles, which end in per- 
 
142 THELMA. 
 
 petual victory, — first fear and shame, — then desire 
 and passion, — then conquest and possession. And 
 afterwards ? ah ! . . . afterwards the pagan deity is 
 powerless, — a higher God, a grander force, a nobler 
 creed must carry Love to its supreme and best ful- 
 filment. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 143 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " Le vent qui vient a travers la montagae 
 
 M'a rendu fou ! " 
 
 VICTOR Hugo. 
 
 It was half an hour past midnight. Sir Philip 
 was left in absolute solitude to enjoy his medita- 
 tive stroll on deck, for the full radiance of light that 
 streamed over the sea and land was too clear and 
 brilliant to necessitate the attendance of any of the 
 sailors for the purpose of guarding the Eulalie. 
 She was safely anchored and distinctly visible to 
 all boats or fishing craft crossing the Fjord, so 
 that unless a sudden gale should blow, which did 
 not seem probable in the present state of the 
 weather, there was nothing for the men to do that 
 need deprive them of their lawful repose. Erring- 
 ton paced up and down slowly, his yachting shoes 
 making no noise, even as they left no scratch on 
 the spotless white deck, that shone in the night 
 sunshine like polished silver. The Fjord was very 
 calm, — on one side it gleamed like a pool of golden 
 oil in which the outline of the Eulalie was pre- 
 cisely traced, her delicate masts and spars and 
 drooping flag being drawn in black lines on the 
 
144 THELMA. 
 
 yellow water as though with a finely pointed 
 pencil. There was a curious light in the western 
 sky ; a thick bank of clouds, dusky brown in colour, 
 were swept together and piled one above the other 
 in mountainous ridges that rose up perpendicularly 
 from the very edge of the sea-line, while over their 
 dark summits a glimpse of the sun, like a giant's 
 eye, looked forth, darting dazzling descending rays 
 through the sullen smoke-like masses, tinging them 
 with metallic green and copper hues as brilliant and 
 shifting as the bristling points of lifted spears. 
 Away to the south, a sohtary wreath of purple 
 vapour floated slowly as though lost from some 
 great mountain height ; and through its faint, half 
 disguising veil the pale moon peered sorrowfully, 
 like a dying prisoner lamenting joy long past, but 
 unforgotten. 
 
 A solemn silence reigned ; and Errington, 
 watching sea and sky, grew more and more 
 absorbed and serious. The scornful words of 
 the proud old Olaf Giddmar rankled in his mind 
 and stung him. " An idle trifler with time — an 
 aimless wanderer ! " Bitter, but, after all, true ! 
 He looked back on his life with a feeling akin to 
 contempt. What had he done that was at all worth 
 doing ? He had seen to the proper management 
 of his estates, — well ! any one with a grain of self- 
 respect and love of independence would do the 
 same. He had travelled and amused liimself, — he 
 had studied languages and literature, — he had made 
 
THE LAND OP THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 145 
 
 many friends; but after all said and done, the 
 hondes cutting observations had described him 
 correctly enough. The do-nothing, care-nothing 
 tendency, common to the very wealthy in this age, 
 had crept upon him unconsciously ; the easy, cool, 
 indifferent nonchalance common to men of his class 
 and breedino' was habitual with him, and he had 
 never thought it worth while to exert his dormant 
 abilities. Why then, should he now begin to 
 think it was time to reform all this, — to rouse him- 
 self to an effort, — to gain for himself some honour, 
 some distinction, some renown that should mark 
 him out as different to other men ? why was he 
 suddenly seized with an insatiate desire to be 
 something more than a mere '' mushroom knight, 
 a fungus of nobility " why ? if not to make himself 
 worthy of — ah ! There he had struck a suggestive 
 key-note ! Worthy of what ? of whom ? There 
 was no one in all the world, excepting perhaps 
 Lorimer, who cared what became of Sir Philip 
 Errington, Baronet, in the future, so long as he 
 would, for the present, entertain and feast his 
 numerous acquaintances and give them all the 
 advantages, social and political, his wealth could 
 so easily obtain. Then why, in the name of well- 
 bred indolence, should he muse with such persistent 
 gloom, on his general unworthiness at this par- 
 ticular moment ? Was it because this Norwegian 
 maiden's grand blue eyes had met his with such 
 beautiful trust and candour ? 
 
 VOL. I. 10 
 
146 THELMA. 
 
 He had known many women, queens of 
 society, titled beauties, brilliant actresses, sirens 
 of the world with all their witcheries in full 
 play, and he had never lost his self-possession 
 or his heart ; with the loveliest of them he had 
 always felt himself master of the situation, know- 
 ing that in their opinion he was always " a 
 catch," '' an eligible," and, therefore, well worth 
 winning. Xow, for the first time, he became 
 aware of his utter insignificance, — this tall fair 
 goddess knew none of the social slang — and her 
 fair, pure face, the mirror of a fair, pure soul, 
 showed that the " eligibility " of a man from a 
 pecuniary point of view, was a consideration that 
 would never present itself to her mind. What 
 she would look at would be the man himself, — not 
 his pocket. And, studied from such an exceptional 
 height, — a height seldom climbed by modern marry- 
 ing women, — Philip felt himself unworthy. It was 
 a good sign ; there are great hopes of any man who 
 is honestly dissatisfied with himself. Folding his 
 arms, he leaned idly on the deck-rails and looked 
 gravely and musingly down into the motionless 
 water where the varied hues of the sky were clearly 
 mirrored, — when a slight creaking, cracking sound 
 was heard, as of some obstacle grazing against, or 
 bumping the side of the yacht. He looked, and 
 saw, to his surprise, a small rowing boat close under 
 the gunwale, so close indeed that the slow motion 
 of the tide heaved it every now and then into a 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 147 
 
 jerky collision with tlie lower framework of the 
 Eulalie — a circumstance which explained the 
 sound which had attracted his attention. The 
 boat was not unoccupied — there was some one in 
 it lying straight across the seats, with face turned 
 upwards to the sky — and, walking noiselessly to 
 a better post of observation, Errington's heart 
 beat with some excitement as he recognized the 
 long, fair, unkempt locks and eccentric attire of 
 the strange personage who had confronted him in 
 the cave — the crazy little man who had called 
 himself •' Sigurd." There he was, beyond a doubt, 
 lying flat on his back with his eyes closed. Asleep 
 or dead ? He might have been the latter, — his thin 
 face was so pale and drawn, — his lips were so set 
 and colourless. Errington, astonished to see him 
 there, called softly — 
 
 '' Sigurd ! Sigurd ! " There was no answer. 
 Sigurd's form seemed inanimate — his eyes re- 
 mained fast shut. 
 
 " Is he in a trance ? " thought Sir Philip 
 wonderingly ; "or has he fainted from some 
 physical exhaustion ? " 
 
 He called again, but again received no reply. 
 He now observed in the stern of the boat a large 
 bunch of pansies, dark as velvet, and evidently 
 freshly gathered, — proving that Sigurd had been 
 wandering in the deep valleys and on the sloping 
 sides of the hills, where these flowers may be 
 frequently found in Norway during the summer. 
 
148 THELMA. 
 
 He began to feel rather uncomfortable, asyhe 
 Avatched that straight stiff figure in the boat, and 
 was just about to swing down the companion- 
 ladder for the purpose of closer inspection, when 
 a glorious burst of light streamed radiantly over 
 the Fjord, — the sun conquered the masses of dark 
 cloud that had striven to conceal his beauty, and 
 now, — like a warrior clad in golden armour, sur- 
 mounted and trod down his enemies, shining forth 
 in all his splendour. With that rush of brilliant 
 effulgence, the apparently lifeless Sigurd stirred, — 
 he opened his eyes, and as tbey were turned 
 upwards, he naturally, from his close vicinity to 
 the side of the Eulalie^ met Errington's gaze fixed 
 inquiringly and somewhat anxiously upon him. 
 He sprang up with such sudden and fierce haste 
 that his frail boat rocked dangerously and Philip 
 involuntarily cried out — 
 
 '^ Take care ! " 
 
 Sigurd stood upright in his swaying skiff and 
 laughed scornfully. 
 
 " Take care ! " he echoed derisively. " It is you 
 who should take care ! You, — poor miserable moth 
 on the edge of a mad storm ! It is you to fear — 
 not I ! See how the light rains over the broad 
 sky. All for me ! Yes, all the light, all the glory 
 for me ; all the darkness, all the shame for you ! '' 
 
 Errington listened to these ravings with an 
 air of patience and pitying gentleness, then he 
 said with perfect coolness — 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 149 
 
 " You are quite riglit, Sigurd ! You are 
 always right, I am sure. Come up here and see 
 me ; I won't hurt you ! Come along ! " 
 
 The friendly tone and gentle manner appeared 
 to soothe the unhappy dwarf, for he stared doubt- 
 fully, then smiled, — and finally, as though acting 
 under a spell, he took up an oar and propelled 
 himself skilfully enough to the gangway, where 
 Errington let down the ladder and with his own 
 hand assisted his visitor to mount, not forgetting 
 to fasten the boat safely to the steps as he did so. 
 Once on deck, Sigurd gazed about him perplexedly. 
 He had brought his bunch of pansies with him, 
 and he fingered their soft leaves thoughtfully. 
 Suddenly his eyes flashed. 
 
 '' You are alone here ? " he asked abruptly. 
 
 Fearing to scare his strange guest by the 
 mention of his companions, Errington answered 
 simply — 
 
 "- Yes, quite alone just now, Sigurd." 
 
 Sigurd took a step closer towards him. " Are 
 you not afraid ? " he said in an awe-struck, solemn 
 voice. 
 
 Sir Philip smiled. " I never was afraid of 
 anything in my life ! " he answered. 
 
 The dwarf eyed him keenly. ^' You are not 
 afraid," he went on, " that I shall kill you ? " 
 
 " Not in the least," returned Errington calmly. 
 "You would not do anything so foolish, my friend." 
 
 Sigurd laughed. '' Ha ha ! You call me 
 
150 THELMA. 
 
 ' friend.' You think that word a safeguard ! I 
 tell you, no! There are no friends now; the 
 world is a great field of battle, — each man fights 
 the other. There is no peace, — none anywhere ! 
 The wind fights with the forests ; you can hear 
 them slashing and slaying all night long — when 
 it is night — the long, long night ! The sun fights 
 with the sky, the light with the dark, and life 
 with death. It is all a bitter quarrel ; none are 
 satisfied, none shall know friendship any more ; it 
 is too late ! We cannot be friends ! " 
 
 " Well, have it your own way," said Philip 
 good-naturedly, wishing that Lorimer were awake 
 to interview this strange specimen of human wit 
 gone astray ; " we'll fight if you like. Anything 
 to please you ! " 
 
 " We are fighting," said Sigurd with intense 
 passion in his voice. " You may not know it ; 
 but I know it! I have felt the thrust of your 
 sword ; it has crossed mine. Stay 1 " and his eyes 
 grew vague and dreamy. " Why was I sent to 
 seek you out — let me think — let me tbink ! " 
 
 And he seated himself forlornly on one of the 
 deck chairs and seemed painfully endeavouring to 
 put his scattered ideas in order. Errington 
 studied him with a gentle forbearance ; inwardly 
 he was very curious to know whether this Sigurd 
 had any connection with the Guldmars, but he 
 refrained from asking too many questions. He 
 simply said in a cheery tone — 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 151 
 
 " Yes, Sigurd, — why did you come to see me ?. 
 Fm glad you did; it's very kind of you, but I 
 don't think you even know my name." 
 
 To his surprise, Sigurd looked up with a more 
 settled and resolved expression of face, and 
 answered almost as connectedly as any sane man 
 could have done. 
 
 ** I know your name very well," he said in a 
 low composed manner. *' You are Sir Philip 
 Errington, a rich English nobleman. Fate led 
 you to her grave — a grave that no strange feet 
 have ever passed, save yours — and so I know you 
 are the man for whom her spirit has waited, — she 
 has brought you hither. How foolish to think 
 she sleeps under the stone, when she is always 
 awake and busy, — always at work opposing me ! 
 Yes, though I pray her to lie still, she will not ! " 
 
 His voice grew w^ld again, and Philip asked 
 quietly — 
 
 " Of whom are you speaking, Sigurd ? " 
 
 His steady tone seemed to have some com- 
 pelling influence on the confused mind of the 
 half-witted creature, who answered readily and at 
 once — 
 
 " Of whom should I speak but Thelma ? 
 Thelma, the beautiful rose of the northern 
 forest — Thelma — — " 
 
 He broke off abruptly with a long shudder- 
 ing sigh, and rocking himself drearily to and 
 fro, gazed wistfully out to the sea. Errington 
 
152 THELMA. 
 
 hazarded a guess as to the purpose of that coffin 
 hidden in the shell cavern. 
 
 " Do you mean Thelma living ? ... or Thelma 
 dead ? " 
 
 "Both," answered Sigurd promptly. ''They 
 are one and the same, — you cannot part them. 
 Mother and child, — rose and rosebud ! One walks 
 the earth with the step of a queen, the other floats 
 in the air like a silvery cloud; but I see them 
 join and embrace and melt into each other's arms 
 till they unite in one form fairer than the beauty 
 of angels ! And you — you know this as well as I 
 do — you have seen Thelma, you have kissed the 
 cup of friendship with her ; but remember ! — -not 
 with me — not with me ! " 
 
 He started from his seat, and, running close, 
 up to Errington, laid one meagre hand on his 
 chest. 
 
 " How strong you are, — how bioad and brave," 
 he exclaimed with a sort of childish admiration. 
 " And can you not be generous too ? " 
 
 Errington looked down upon him compassion- 
 ately. He had learned enough from his in- 
 coherent talk to clear up what had seemed a 
 mystery. The scandalous reports concerning Olaf 
 Giildmar were incorrect, — he had evidently laid 
 the remains of his wife in the shell-cavern, for 
 some reason connected with his religious belief, 
 and Thelma's visits to the sacred spot were now 
 easy of comprehension. No doubt it was she who 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 153 
 
 placed fresh flowers there every day, and kept the 
 little lamp burning before the crucifix as a sign of 
 the faith her departed mother had professed, and 
 which she herself followed. But who was Sigurd, 
 and what was he to the Glildinars ? Thinking 
 this, he replied to the dwarfs question by a 
 counter-inquiry. 
 
 '' How shall I be generous, Sigurd ? Tell me ! 
 What can I do to please you ? " 
 
 Sigurd's wild blue eyes sparkled vvitli pleasure. 
 
 " Do ! " he cried. " You can go away, swiftly, 
 swiftly over the seas, and the Altenfjord need 
 know you no more ! Spread your wdiite sails ! " 
 and he pointed excitedly up to the tall tapering 
 masts of the Eulalie. " You are king here. Com- 
 mand and you are obeyed ! Go from us, go ! 
 What is there here to delay you ? Our mountains 
 are dark and gloomy, — the fjelds are wild and 
 desolate, — there are rocks, glaciers and shrieking 
 torrents that hiss like serpents gliding into the 
 sea ! Oh, there must be fairer lands than this 
 one, — lands where ocean and sky are like twin 
 jewels set in one ring, — where there are sweet 
 flowers and fruits and bright eyes to smile on you 
 all day — yes ! for you are as a god in your strength 
 and beauty — no woman will be cruel to ^ou ! 
 Ah! say you will go away ! " and Sigurd's face 
 was transfigured into a sort of pained beauty as 
 he made his appeal. " That is what I came to 
 seek you for, — to ask you to set sail quickly and 
 
154 THELMA. 
 
 go, for wliy should you wish to destroy me ? I 
 have done you no harm as yet. Go ! — and Odin 
 himself shall follow your path with blessings ! " 
 
 He paused, almost breathless with his own 
 earnest pleading. Errington was silent. He con- 
 sidered the request a mere proof of the poor 
 creature's disorder. The very idea that Sigurd 
 seemed to entertain of his doing him any harm, 
 showed a reasonless terror and foreboding that 
 was simply to be set down as caused by his un- 
 fortunate mental condition. To such an appeal 
 there could be no satisfactory reply. To sail away 
 from the Altenfjord and its now most fascinating 
 attractions,- because a madman asked him to do so, 
 was a proposition impossible of acceptance, so Sir 
 Philip said nothing. Sigurd, however, watching 
 his face intently, saw, or thought he saw, a look 
 of resolution in the Englishman's clear, deep grey 
 eyes, — and with the startling quickness common to 
 many whose brains, like musical instruments are 
 jarred, yet not quite unstrung, he grasped the 
 meaning of that expressiou instantly. 
 
 " Ah ! cruel and traitorous ! " he exclaimed 
 fiercely. " You will not go ; you are resolved to 
 tear my heart out for your sport ! I have pleaded 
 with you as one pleads with a king and all in 
 vain — all in vain ! You will not go ? Listen, see 
 what you will do," and he held up the bunch of 
 purple pansies, while his voice sank to an almost 
 feeble faintness. " Look ! " and he fingered the 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 155 
 
 flowers, " look ! . . . they are dark and soft as a 
 purple sky, — cool and dewy and fresh ; — they are 
 the thoughts of Thelma ; such thoughts ! So wise 
 and earnest, so pure and full of tender shadows ! — 
 no hand has grasped them rudely, no rough touch 
 has spoiled their smoothness ! They open full- 
 faced to the sky, they never droop or languish ; 
 thev have no secrets, save the marvel of their 
 beauty. Now you have come, you will have no 
 pity, — one by one you will gather and play with 
 her thoughts as though they were these blossoms, 
 — your burning hand will mar their colour, — they 
 will wither and furl up and die, all of them, — and 
 you, — what will you care ? Nothing ! no man ever 
 cares for a flower that is withered, — not even 
 though his own hand slew it." 
 
 The intense melancholy that vibrated through 
 Sigurd's voice touched his listener profoundly. 
 Dimly he guessed that the stricken soul before 
 him had formed the erroneous idea that he, 
 Errington, had come to do some great wrong to 
 Thehna or her belongings, and he pitied the poor 
 creature for his foolish self-torture. 
 
 " Listen to me Sigurd," he said, with a certain 
 imperativeness ; " I cannot promise you to go 
 away, but I can promise that I will do no harm to 
 you or to — to — Thelma. Will that content you ? " 
 
 Sigurd smiled vacantly and shook his head. 
 He looked at the pansies wistfully and laid them 
 down very gently on one of the deck benches. 
 
156 TtlELMA. 
 
 " I must go," he said in a faint voice : — " She 
 is calb'ng me." 
 
 " Who is calling you ? " demanded Errington 
 astonished. 
 
 " She is/' persisted Sigurd, walking steadily 
 to the gangway. '' I can hear her ! There are 
 the roses to water, and the doves to feed, and 
 many other things." He looked steadily at Sir 
 Philip, who, seeing he was bent on departure, 
 assisted him to descend the companion ladder into 
 his little boat. " You are sure you will not sail 
 away t 
 
 Errington balanced himself lightly on the 
 ladder and smiled. 
 
 " I am sure, Sigurd ! I have no wish to sail 
 away. Are you all right there ? " 
 
 He spoke cheerily, feeling in his own mind 
 that it was scarcely safe for a madman to be quite 
 alone in a cockle-shell of a boat on a deep 
 Fjord, the shores of which were indented with 
 dangerous rocks as sharp as the bristling teeth of 
 fabled sea-monsters, but Sigurd answered him 
 almost contemptuously. 
 
 " All right ! " he echoed. " That is what the 
 English say always. All right ! As if it were 
 ever wrong with me and the sea ! We know 
 each other, — we do each other no harm. You may 
 die on the sea, but / shall not ! No, there is 
 another way to Valhalla ! " 
 
 " Oh, I dare say there are no end of ways," 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 157 
 
 said ErriDgton good-temperedly, still poising 
 himself on the ladder, and holding on to the side 
 of his yacht, as he watched his late visitor take 
 the oars and move off. " Good-bye, Sigurd ! 
 Take care of yourself! Hope I shall see you 
 again soon," 
 
 But Sigurd replied not. Bending to the oars, 
 he rowed swiftly and strongly, and Sir Philip, 
 pulling up the ladder and closing the gangway, 
 saw the little skiff flying over the water like a 
 bird in the direction of the Griildmars' landing-place. 
 He wondered again and again what relationship, 
 if any, this half-crazed being bore to the honde 
 and his daughter. That he knew all about them 
 was pretty evident ; but how ? Catching sight of 
 the pansies left on the deck bench, Errington took 
 them, and, descending to the saloon, set them on 
 the table in a tumbler of water. 
 
 " Thelma's thoughts, the poor little fellow 
 called them," he mused, with a smile. " A pretty 
 fjincy of his, and linked with the crazy imagin- 
 ings of Ophelia too. ' There's pansies, that's for 
 thoughts,' she said, but Sigurd's idea is different ; 
 he believes they are Thelma's own thoughts in 
 flower. ' No rough touch has spoiled their 
 smoothness,' he declared ; he's right there, I'm 
 sure. And shall I ruffle the sweet leaves ; shall 
 I crush the tender petals ? or shall I simply 
 transform them, from pansies into roses, — from the 
 dream of love, — into love itself?" 
 
158 THELMA. 
 
 His eyes softened as he glanced at the droop- 
 ing rose he wore, which Thelma herself had given 
 him, and as he went to his sleeping cabin, he 
 carefully detached it from his button-hole, and 
 taking down a book, — one which he greatly prized, 
 because it had belonged to his mother, — he pre- 
 pared to press the flower within its leaves. It 
 was the " Imitation of Christ," bound quaintly 
 and fastened with silver clasps, and as he was 
 about to lay his fragrant trophy on the first page 
 that opened naturally of itself, he glanced at the 
 words that there presented themselves to his eyes. 
 
 " Nothing is sweeter than love, nothing 
 stronger, nothing higher, nothing wider, nothing- 
 more pleasant, nothing fuller or better in heaven 
 or in earth ! " And with a smile, and a warmer 
 flush of colour than usual on his handsome face, 
 he touched the rose lightly yet tenderly with his 
 lips and shut it reverently within its sacred 
 resting-place. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 159 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " Our manners are infinitely corrupted, and wonderfully incline to 
 the worse ; of our customs there are many barbarous and monstrous." 
 
 MoIn'TAIGNE. 
 
 The next day was very warm and bright, and 
 tliat pious Lutheran divine, the Reverend Charles 
 Dyceworthy, was seriously encumbered by his own 
 surplus flesh material, as he wearily rowed himself 
 across the Fjord towards Olaf Giildmar's private 
 pier. As the perspiration bedewed his brow, he 
 felt that Heaven had dealt with him somewhat too 
 liberally in the way of fat — he was provided too 
 amply with it ever to excel as an oarsman. The 
 sun was burning hot, the water was smooth as 
 oil, and very weighty — it seemed to resist every 
 stroke of his clumsily wielded blades. Altogether 
 it was hard, uncongenial work, — and, being 
 rendered somewhat flabby and nerveless by his 
 previous evening's carouse with Macfarlane's 
 whisky, Mr. Dyceworthy was in a plaintive and 
 injured frame of mind. He was bound on a 
 mission — a holy and edifying errand, which 
 
160 THELMA. 
 
 would have elevated any minister of liis parti- 
 cular sect. He had found a crucifix with the 
 name of Tbelma engraved thereon, — he was now 
 about to return it to the evident rightful owner, 
 and in returning it, he purposed denouncing it as 
 an emblem oftbe "Scarlet Woman, that sitteth on 
 the Seven Hills," and threatening all those who 
 dared to hold it sacred, as doomed to eternal 
 torture, '^ where the worm dieth not." He had 
 thouo'ht over all he meant to say ; he had planned 
 several eloquent and rounded sentences, some of 
 which he murmured placidly to himself as he 
 propelled his slow boat along. 
 
 " Yea ! " he observed in a mild sotto-voce — 
 " ye shall be cut off root and branch ! 'Ye shall be 
 scorched even as stubble, — and utterly destroyed." 
 Here he paused and mopped his streaming fore- 
 head with his clean perfumed handkerchief. 
 '' Yea ! " he resumed peacefully, " the worshippers 
 of idolatrous images are accursed ; they shall have 
 ashes for food and gall for drink ! Let them 
 turn and repent themselves, lest the wrath of 
 God consume them as straw wliirled on the wind. 
 Repent ! ... or ye shall be cast into everlasting fire. 
 Beauty shall avail not, learning shall avail not, 
 meekness shall avail not ; for the fire of hell is a 
 
 searching, endless, destroying " here Mr. 
 
 Dyceworthy, by plunging one oar with too much 
 determination into the watery depths, caught a 
 crab, as the saying is, and fell violently backward 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 161 
 
 in a somewhat undignified posture. Recovering 
 himself slowly, he looked about him in a be- 
 wildered way, and for the first time noticed the 
 vacant, solitary appearance of the Fjord. Some 
 object was missing ; he realized what it was 
 immediately — the English yacht Eulalie was gone 
 from her point of anchorage. 
 
 " Dear me ! " said Mr. Dyceworthy, half aloud, 
 " what a very sudden departure ! I wonder, now 
 if those young men have gone for good, or 
 whether they are coming back again ? Pleasant 
 fellows — very pleasant ! flippant, perhaps, but 
 pleasant." 
 
 And he smiled benevolently. He had no 
 remembrance of what had occurred, after he had 
 emptied young Macfarlane's flask of Glenlivet ; 
 he had no idea that he had been almost carried 
 from his garden into his parlour, and there flung 
 on the sofa and left to sleep off the effects of his 
 strong tipple ; least of all did he dream that he 
 had betrayed any of his intentions towards Thelma 
 Giildmar, or given his religious opinions with 
 such free and undisguised candour. Blissfully 
 ignorant on these points, he resumed his re- 
 fractory oars, and after nearly an hour of laborious 
 effort, succeeeded at last in reaching his destina- 
 tion. Arrived at the little pier, he fastened up 
 his boat, and with the lofty air of a thoroughly 
 moral man, he walked deliberately up to the door 
 of the hondes house. Contrary to custom, it was 
 
 VOL. I. 11 
 
162 THELMA. 
 
 closed, and the place seemed strangely silent and 
 deserted. The afternoon heat was so great that 
 the song-birds were hushed and in hiding under 
 the cool green leaves, — the clambering roses round 
 the porch hung down their bright heads for sheer 
 faintness,--and the only sounds to be heard were 
 the subdued coo-cooing of the doves on the roof, 
 and the soft trickling rush of a little mountain 
 stream that flowed through the grounds. Some- 
 what surprised, though not abashed, at the evi- 
 dent " not-at-home " look of the farm-house, Mr. 
 Dyceworthy rapped loudly at the rough oaken 
 door with his knuckles, there being no such 
 modern convenience as a bell or a knocker. He 
 waited some time before he was answered, repeat- 
 ing his summons violently at frequent intervals, 
 and swearing irreligiously under his breath as he 
 did so. But at last the door was flung sharply 
 open, and the tangle-haired, rosy-cheeked Britta 
 confronted him with an aspect which was by no 
 means encouraging or polite. Her round blue 
 eyes sparkled saucily, and she placed her bare, 
 2^1 amp red arms, wet with recent soapsuds, akimbo 
 on her sturdy little hips, with an air that was 
 decidedly impertinent. 
 
 " Well, what do you want ? " she demanded 
 with rude abruptness. 
 
 Mr. Dyceworthy regarded her in speechless 
 dignity. Youchsafing no reply, he attempted to 
 pass her and enter the house. But Britta settled 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 163 
 
 her arms more defiantly than ever, and her voice 
 had a sharper ring as she said — 
 
 " It's no use your coming in ! There's no one 
 here but me. The master has gone out for the 
 day." 
 
 " Young woman," returned Mr. Dyce worthy 
 with pohte severity, " I regret to see that your 
 manners stand in sore need of improvement. 
 Your master's absence is of no importance to me. 
 It is with the Froken Thelma I desire to speak." 
 
 Britta laughed and tossed her rough brown 
 Claris back from her forehead. Mischievous 
 dimples came and went at the corners of her 
 mouth — indications of suppressed fun. 
 
 " The Froken is out too," she said demurely. 
 " It's time she had a little amusement ; and the 
 gentlemen treat her as if she were a queen ! " 
 
 Mr. Dyceworthy started, and his red visage 
 became a trifle paler. 
 
 " Gentlemen ? What gentlemen ? " he de- 
 manded with some impatience. 
 
 Britta's inward delight evidently increased. 
 
 " The gentlemen from the yacht, of course," 
 she said. " What other gentlemen are there ? " 
 This with a contemptuous up-and-down sort of 
 look at the Lutheran minister's portly form. '' Sir 
 Philip Errington was here with his friend yester- 
 day evening and stayed a long time, — and to-day a 
 fine boat with four oars came to fetch the master 
 and Froken Thelma, and they are all gone for ;i 
 
164 THELMA. 
 
 sail to the Kaa Fjord or some other place near 
 here — I cannot remember the name. And I am 
 so glad ! " went on Britta, clasping her plump 
 hands in ecstasy. " They are the grandest, hand- 
 somest Herren I have ever seen, — and one can tell 
 they think wonders of the Froken — nothing is too 
 good for her ! " 
 
 Mr. Dyceworthy's face was the picture of 
 dismay. This was a new turn to the course of 
 events, and one, moreover, that he had never once 
 contemplated. Britta watched him amusedly. 
 
 " Will you leave any message for them when 
 they return ? " she asked. 
 
 " No," said the minister dubiously. " Yet, 
 stay ; yes ! I will ! Tell the Froken that I have 
 found something which belongs to her, and that 
 when she wishes to have it, I will myself bring 
 li. 
 
 Britta looked cross. *' If it is hers you have 
 no business to keep it," she said brusquely. 
 " Why not leave it, — whatever it is, — with me ? " 
 
 Mr. Dyceworthy regarded her with a bland 
 and lofty air. 
 
 " I trust no concerns of mine or hers to the 
 keeping of a paid domestic," he said. '* A do- 
 mestic, moreover, who deserts the ways of her 
 own people,— who hath dealings with the dwellers 
 in darkness, — who even bringeth herself to forget 
 much of her own native tongue, and who devoteth 
 herself to " 
 
 J 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 165 
 
 What he would have said was uncertain, as at 
 that moment he was nearly thrown down by a 
 something that slipped agilely between his legs, 
 pinching each fat calf as it passed — a something 
 that looked like a ball, but proved to be a human 
 creature — no other than the crazy Sigurd, who, 
 after accomplishing his uncouth gambol success- 
 fully, stood up, shaking back his streaming fair 
 locks and laughing wildly. 
 
 " Ha, ha ! " he exclaimed. " That was good ; 
 that was clever ! If I had upset you now, you 
 would have said your prayers backward ! What 
 are you here for ? This is no place for you ! 
 They are all gone out of it. She has gone — all the 
 world is empty ! There is nothing anywhere but 
 air, air, air ! — no birds, no flowers, no trees, no sun- 
 shine ! All gone with her on the sparkling, singing 
 water ! " and he swung his arms round violently, 
 and snapped his fingers in the minister's face. 
 " What an ugly man you are ! " he exclaimed with 
 refreshing candour. " I think you are uglier than 
 I am ! You are straight, — but you are like a load 
 of peat — heavy and barren and fit to burn. Now, 
 I — I am the crooked bough of a tree, but I have 
 bright leaves where a bird hides and sings all 
 day ! You — you have no song, no foliage ; only 
 ugly and barren and fit to burn ! " He laughed 
 heartily, and, catching sight of Britta where she 
 stood in the doorway entirely unconcerned at his 
 eccentric behaviour, he went up to her and took 
 
166 THELMA. 
 
 hold of the corner of her apron. "Take me in, 
 Eritta dear — pretty Britta ! " he said coaxingly. 
 '• Sigurd is hungry ! Britta, sweet little Britta, — 
 come and talk to me and sing! Good-bye, fat man ! " 
 he added suddenly, turning round once more on 
 Dyceworthy. " You will never overtake the big 
 ship that has gone away with Thelma over the 
 water. Thelma will come back, — yes! . . . but one 
 day she will go never to come back." He dropped 
 his voice to a mysterious whisper. " Last night I 
 saw a little spirit come out of a rose, — he carried 
 a tiny golden hammer and nail, and a ball of cord 
 like a rolled-up sunbeam. He flew away so 
 quickly I could not follow him ; but I know where 
 he went ! He fastened the nail in the heart of 
 Thelma, deeply, so that the little drops of blood 
 flowed, — but she felt no pain; and then he tied the 
 gold cord to the nail and left her, carrying the 
 other end of the string with him — to whom ? 
 Some other heart must be pierced ! Whose 
 heart ? " Sigurd looked infinitely cunning as 
 well as melancholy, and sighed deeply. 
 
 The Reverend Mr. Dyceworthy was impatient 
 and disgusted. 
 
 " It is a pity," he said with an air of solemn 
 patience, " that this hapless creature, accursed of 
 Grod and man, is not placed in some proper abode 
 suitable to the treatment of his affliction. You, 
 Britta, as the favoured servant of a — a — well, let 
 us say, of a peculiar mistress, should persuade her 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 167 
 
 to send this — this — person away, lest his vagaries 
 become harmfuL" 
 
 Britta glanced very kindly at Sigurd, who still 
 held her apron with the air of a trustful child. 
 
 " He's no more harmful than you are," she 
 said promptly, in answer to the minister's remark. 
 " He's a good fellow, and if he talks strangely he 
 can make himself useful, — which is more than can 
 be said of certain people. He can saw and chop 
 the wood, make hay, feed the cattle, pull a strong- 
 oar, and sweep and keep the garden, — can't you 
 Sigurd?" She laid her hand on Sigurd's shoulder, 
 and he nodded his head emphatically, as she enu- 
 merated his different talents. "And as for climb- 
 ing, — he can guide you anywhere over the hills, or 
 up the streams to the big waterfalls — no one 
 better. And if you mean by peculiar, — that my 
 mistress is different to other people, why, I know 
 she is, and am glad of it, — at any rate, she's a 
 great deal too kind-hearted to shut this poor boy 
 up in a house for madmen ! He'd die if he 
 couldn't have the fresh air." She paused, out 
 of breath with her rapid utterance, and Mr. 
 Dyceworthy held up his hands in dignified 
 astonishment. 
 
 " You talk too glibly, young woman," he said. 
 " It is necessary that I should instruct you without 
 loss of time as to how you should be sparing of 
 your words in the presence of your superiors and 
 betters " 
 
168 THELMA. 
 
 Bang ! The door was closed with a decision 
 that sent a sharp echo through the silent, heated 
 air, and Mr. Dyceworthy was left to contemplate 
 it at his leisure. Full of wrath, he was about to 
 knock peremptorily and insist that it should be 
 re-opened; but on second thoughts he decided that 
 it was beneath his dignity to argue with a servant, 
 much less with a declared lunatic like Sigurd, — so 
 he made the best of his way back to his boat, 
 thinking gloomily of the hard labour awaiting 
 him in the long pull back to Bosekop. 
 
 Other thoughts, too, tortured and harassed his 
 brain, and as he again took the oars and plied 
 them wearily through the water he was in an ex- 
 ceedingly unchristian humour. Though a specious 
 hypocrite, he was no fool. He knew the ways of 
 men and women, and he thoroughly realized the 
 present position of affairs. He was quite aware 
 of Thelma Giildmar's exceptional beauty, — and he 
 felt pretty certain that no man could look upon 
 her without admiration. But up to this time, she 
 had been, as it were, secluded from all eyes, — a few 
 haymakers and fishermen were the only persons 
 of the male sex who had ever been within the 
 precincts of Olaf Giildmar's dwelling, w^ith the 
 exception of himself, Dyceworthy, — who, being 
 armed with a letter of introduction from the 
 actual minister of Bosekop, whose place, he, for 
 the present, filled, had intruded his company 
 frequently and persistently on the honde and his 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 169 
 
 daughter, tboug^h he knew himself to be entirely 
 unwelcome. He had gathered together as much 
 as he could, all the scraps of information con- 
 cerning them ; how Olaf Guldmar was credited 
 with having made away with his wife by foul 
 means ; how nobody even knew where his wife 
 had come from ; how Thelma had been mys- 
 teriously educated, and had learned strange 
 things concerning foreign lands, w^hich no one 
 else in the place understood anything about ; how 
 she was reputed to be a witch, and was believed 
 to have cast her spells on the unhappy Sigurd, 
 to the destruction of his reason, — and how nobody 
 could tell where Sigurd himself had come from. 
 
 All this Mr. Dyceworthy had heard with much 
 interest, and as the sensual part of his nature 
 was always more or less predominant, he had 
 resolved in his own mind that here was a field 
 of action suitable to his abilities. To tame and 
 break the evil spirit in the reputed witch ; to 
 convert her to the holy and edifying Lutheran 
 faith ; to save her soul for the Lord, and take 
 her beautiful body for himself; these were Mr. 
 Dyceworthy's laudable ambitions. There was no 
 rival to oppose him, and he had plenty of time 
 to mature his plans. So he had thought. He 
 had not bargained for the appearance of Sir 
 Phihp Bruce-Errington on the scene, — a man, 
 young, handsome, and well-bred, with vast wealth 
 to back up his pretensions, should he make any. 
 
170 THELMA. 
 
 " How did he find her out ? " thought the 
 Reverend Charles, as he dolefully pulled his craft 
 along. " And that brutal pagan Gtildraar, too, 
 who pretends he cannot endure strangers ! " 
 
 And as he meditated, a flush of righteous 
 indignation crimsoned his flabby features. 
 
 '' Let her take care," he half muttered, with 
 a smile that was not pleasant ; "let her take care ! 
 There are more ways than one to bring down 
 her pride ! Sir Philip Errington must be too 
 rich and popular in his own country to think of 
 wishing to marry a girl who is only a farmer's 
 daughter after all. He may trifle with her ; yes ! 
 . . . and he will help me by so doing. The more 
 mud on her name, the better for me ; the more 
 disgrace, the more need of rescue, and the more 
 grateful she will have to be. Just a word to 
 Ulrika, — and the scandal will spread. Patience, 
 — patience ! " 
 
 And somewhat cheered by his own reflections, 
 though still wearing an air of offended dignity, 
 he rowed on, glancing up every now and then 
 to see if the Eulalie had returned, but her place 
 was still empty. 
 
 Meanwhile, as he thought and planned, other 
 thoughts and plans were being discussed at a 
 meeting which was held in a little ruined stone 
 hut, situated behind some trees on a dreary hill 
 just outside Bosekop. It was a miserable place, 
 barren of foliage, — the ground was dry and yellow, 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 171 
 
 and the hut itself looked as if it had been struck 
 by lightning. The friends, whose taste had led 
 them to select this dilapidated dwelling as a place 
 of conference, were two in number, both women, — 
 one of them no other than the minister's servant, 
 the drear- faced Ulrika. She was crouched on the 
 earth-floor in an attitude of utter abasement, at 
 the feet of her companion, — an aged dame of tall 
 and imposing appearance, who, standing erect, 
 looked down upon her with an air of mingled 
 contempt and malevolence. The hut was rather 
 dark, for the roof was not sufficiently destroyed 
 to have the advantage of being open to the 
 sky. The sunlight fell through holes of different 
 shapes and sizes, — one specially bright patch of 
 radiance illumining the stately form, and strongly 
 marked, though withered features of the elder 
 woman, whose eyes, deeply sunken in her head, 
 glittered with a hawk-like and evil lustre, as 
 they rested on the prostrate figure before her. 
 When she spoke, her accents were harsh and 
 commanding. 
 
 " How long ? " she said, " how long must I 
 wait? How long must I watch the work of 
 Satan in the land ? The fields are barren and 
 will not bring forth ; the curse of bitter poverty 
 is upon us all ; and only he, the pagan Giildmar, 
 prospers and gathers in harvest, while all around 
 him starve ! Do I not know the devil's work 
 when I see it, — I, the chosen servant of the Lord?" 
 
172 THELMA. 
 
 And she struck a tall staff she held, violently into 
 the ground to emphasize her words. " Am I not 
 left deserted in my age ? The child Britta, — sole 
 daughter of my sole daughter, — is she not stolen, 
 and kept from me ? Has not her heart been 
 utterly turned away from mine ? All through 
 that vile witch, — accursed of God and man ! She 
 it is who casts the blight on our land ; she it is 
 who makes the hands and hearts of our men 
 heavy and careless, so that even luck has left the 
 fishing ; and yet you hesitate, —you delay, you will 
 not fulfil your promise ! I tell you, there are 
 those in Bosekop who, at my bidding, would cast 
 her naked into the Fjord, and leave her there, to 
 sink or swim according to her nature ! " 
 
 " I know," murmured Ulrika humbly, raising 
 herself sHghtly from her kneeling posture ; " I 
 know it well ! . . . but, good Lovisa, be patient ! I 
 work for the best ! Mr. Dyceworthy will do more 
 for us than we can do for ourselves ; he is wise 
 and cautious " 
 
 Lovisa interrupted her with a fierce gesture. 
 " Fool ! " she cried. " What need of caution ? A 
 witch is a witch, — burn her, drown her ! There is 
 no other remedy ! But two days since, the child 
 of my neighbour Engla passed her on the Fjord ; 
 and now the boy has sickened of some strange 
 disease, and 'tis said he will die. Again, the 
 drove of cattle owned by Hildmar Bjorn were 
 herded home when she passed by. Now they are 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 173 
 
 seized by the murrain plague ! Tell your good 
 saint Dyceworthy these things ; if he can find no 
 cure, / can, — and will ! " 
 
 Ulrika shuddered slightly as she rose from 
 the ground and stood erect, drawing her shawl 
 closely about her. 
 
 " You hate her so much, Lovisa ? " she asked, 
 almost timidly. 
 
 Lovisa's face darkened, and her yellow, claw- 
 like hand closed round her strong staff in a cruel 
 and threatening manner. 
 
 *' Hate her ! " she muttered, " I have hated her 
 ever since she was born ! I hated her mother 
 before her ! A nest of devils, every one of them ; 
 and the curse will always be upon us while they 
 dwell here." 
 
 She paused and looked at Ulrika steadily. 
 
 " Remember ! " she said, with an evil leer on 
 her lips, " I hold a secret of yours that is worth 
 the keeping ! I give you two weeks more ; within 
 that time you must act ! Destroy the witch, — 
 bring back to me my grandchild Britta, or else 
 — it will be 7717/ turn ! " 
 
 And she laughed silently. Ulrika's face grew 
 paler, and the hand that grasped the folds of her 
 shawl trembled violently. She made an effort, 
 however, to appear composed, as she answered — 
 
 " I have sworn to obey you, Lovisa, — and I 
 will. But tell me one thing — how do you know 
 that Thelma Guldmar is indeed a witch ? " 
 
174 THELMA. 
 
 " How do I know ? " almost yelled Lovisa. 
 " Have I lived all these years for nothing ? Look 
 at her ! Am / like her ? Are you like her ? 
 Are any of the honest women of the neighbour- 
 hood like her ? Meet her on the hills with knives 
 and pins, — prick her, and see if the blood will 
 flow ! I swear it will not — not one drop ! Her 
 skin is too white ; there is no blood in those 
 veins — only fire ! Look at the pink in her 
 cheeks, — the transparency of her flesh, — the glit- 
 tering light in her eyes, the gold of her hair, — 
 it is all devil's work, it is not human, it is not 
 natural ! I have watched her, — I used to watch 
 her mother, and curse her every time I saw 
 her — ay ! curse her till I was breathless with 
 cursing " 
 
 She stopped abruptly. Ulrika gazed at her 
 with as much wonder as her plain, heavy face w^as 
 capable of expressing. Lovisa saw the look and 
 smiled darkly. 
 
 *' One would think you had never known what 
 love is ! " she said, with a sort of grim satire in 
 her tone. *' Yet even your dull soul was on fire 
 once ! But I — when I was young, I had beauty 
 such as you never had, and I loved — Olaf Glild- 
 mar." 
 
 Ulrika uttered an exclamation of astonishment. 
 " You ! and yet you hate him now ? " 
 
 Lovisa raised her hand with aft imperious 
 gesture. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 175 
 
 " I have grown hate like a flower in my 
 breast," she said, with a sort of stern impressive- 
 ness. '' I have fostered it year after year, and 
 now, — it has grown too strong for me! When Olaf 
 Griildmar was young he told me I was fair ; once 
 he kissed my cheek at parting ! For those words, — 
 for that kiss, — I loved him. then — for the same 
 things I hate him now ! When I knew he had 
 married, I cursed him ; on the day of my own 
 marriage with a man I despised, I cursed him ! 
 I have followed him and all his surroundings 
 with more curses than there are hours in the day I 
 I have had some little revenge — yes ! " — and she 
 laughed grimly — " but I want more ! For Britta 
 has been caught by his daughter's evil spell. 
 Britta is mine, and I must have her back. Under- 
 stand me well ! — do what you have to do without 
 delay ! Surely it is an easy thing to ruin a 
 woman ! " 
 
 Ulrika stood as though absorbed in meditation 
 and said nothing for some moments. At last she 
 murmured as though to herself — 
 
 " Mr. Dyceworthy could do much — if " 
 
 "• Ask him, then," said Lovisa imperatively. 
 " Tell him the village is in fear of her. Tell him 
 that if he will do nothing ive will. And if all 
 fails, come to me again ; and remember ! . . . I 
 shall not only act, — I shall speak!'' 
 
 And emphasizing the last word as a sort of 
 threat, she turned and strode out of the hut. 
 
176 THELMA. 
 
 Ulrika followed more slowly, taking a different 
 direction to that in which her late companion was 
 seen rapidly disappearing. On returning to the 
 minister's dwelling, she found that Mr. Dyce- 
 worthy had not yet come back from his boating 
 excursion. She gave no explanation of her 
 absence to her two fellow-servants, but went 
 straight up to her own room — a bare attic in the 
 roof — where she deliberately took off her dress and 
 bared her shoulders and breast. Then she knelt 
 down on the rough boards, and clasping her hands, 
 began to writhe and wrestle as though she were 
 seized with a sudden convulsion. She groaned 
 and tortured the tears from her eyes ; she pinched 
 her own flesh till it was black and blue, and 
 scratched it with her nails till it bled, — and she 
 prayed inaudibly, but with evident desperation. 
 Sometimes her gestures were frantic, sometimes 
 appealing; but she made no noise that was loud 
 enough to attract attention from any of the 
 dwellers in the house. Her stolid features were 
 contorted with anguish, — and had she been an 
 erring nun of the creed she held in such bitter 
 abhorrence, who, for some untold crime, endured 
 a self-imposed penance, she could not have 
 punished her own flesh much more severely. 
 
 She remained some quarter of an hour or 
 twenty minutes thus ; then rising from her knees, 
 she wiped the tears from her eyes and re-clothed 
 herself, — and with her usual calm, immovable 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 177 
 
 aspect — though smarting sharply from the injuries 
 she had inflicted on herself — she descended to the 
 kitchen, there to prepare Mr. Dyce worthy's tea 
 with all the punctilious care and nicety befitting 
 the meal of so good a man and so perfect a saint. 
 
 VOL. I, 12 
 
178 THELMA. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " She believed that by dealing nobly with all, all would show 
 themselves noble; so that whatsoever she did became her." — Hafiz. 
 
 As the afternoon lengthened, and the sun lowered 
 his glittering shield towards that part of the 
 horizon where he rested a brief while without 
 setting, the Eulalie, — her white sails spread to the 
 cool, refreshing breeze, — swept gracefully and 
 swiftly back to her old place on the Fjord, and her 
 anchor dropped with musical clank and splash, just 
 as Mr. Dyce worthy entered his house, fatigued, 
 perspiring, and ill-tempered at the non-success of 
 his day. All on board the yacht were at dinner — 
 a dinner of the most tasteful and elegant descrip- 
 tion, such as Sir Philip Errington well knew how 
 to order and superintend, and Thelma, leaning 
 against the violet velvet cushions that were piled 
 behind her for her greater ease, looked, — as she 
 indeed was, — the veritable queen of the feast. 
 Macfarlane and Duprez had been rendered aston- 
 ished and bashful by her excessive beauty. From 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 179 
 
 the moment she came on board with her father, 
 clad in her simple white gown, with a deep 
 crimson hood drawn over her fair hair, and tied 
 under her rounded chin, she had taken them all 
 captive — they were her abject slaves in heart, 
 though they put on very creditable airs of 
 manly independence and nonchalance. Each 
 man in his different way strove to amuse or 
 interest her, except, strange to say, Errington 
 himself, who, though deeply courteous to her, kept 
 somewhat in the background and appeared more 
 anxious to render himself agreeable to old Olaf 
 Giildmar, than to win the good graces of his lovely 
 daughter. The girl was delighted with everything 
 on board the yacht, — she admired its elegance and 
 luxury with child-like enthusiasm ; she gloried in 
 tlie speed with which its glittering prow cleaved 
 the waters ; she clapped her hands at the hiss of the 
 white foam as it split into a creaming pathway 
 for the rushing vessel ; and she was so unaffected 
 and graceful in all her actions and attitudes, that 
 the slow blood of the cautious Macfarlane began 
 to warm up by degrees to a most unwonted heat 
 of admiration. When she had first arrived, Erring- 
 ton, in receiving her, had seriously apologised 
 for not having some lady to meet her, but she 
 seemed not to understand his meaning. Her 
 na'ive smile and frankly uplifted eyes put all his 
 suddenly conceived notions of social stiffness to 
 fliirht. 
 
180 THEI^MA. 
 
 " Why should a lady come ? " she asked 
 sweetly. " It is not necessary ? . . ." 
 
 " Of course it is'nt ! " said Lorimer promptly 
 and delightedly. " I am sure we shall be able to 
 amuse you Miss Giildmar." 
 
 " Oh, — for that ! " she replied, with a little 
 shrug that had something French about it. " I 
 amuse myself always ! I am amused now, — you 
 must not trouble yourselves ! " 
 
 As she was introduced to Duprez and Mag- 
 farlane, she gave them each a quaint, sweeping 
 curtsy, which had the effect of making them feel 
 the most ungainly lumbersome fellows on the face 
 of the earth. Macfarlane grew secretly enraged 
 at the length of his legs, — while Pierre Duprez, 
 though his bow was entirely Parisian, decided in 
 his own mind that it was jerky, and not good 
 style. She was perfectly unembarrassed with all 
 the young men ; she laughed at their jokes and 
 turned her glorious eyes full on them with the 
 unabashed sweetness of innocence ; she listened 
 to the accounts they gave her of their fishing and 
 climbing excursions with the most eager interest, 
 — and in her turn, she told them of fresh nooks 
 and streams and waterfalls, of which they had 
 never even heard the names. Not only were 
 they enchanted with her, but they were thoroughly 
 delighted with her father, Olaf Glildmar. The 
 sturdy old pagan was in the best of humours, — and 
 seemed determined to be pleased with everything. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 1<S1 
 
 — he told good stories, — and laughed that rollick- 
 ing, jovial laugh of his with such unforced 
 heartiness that it was impossible to be dull in his 
 company, — and not one of Errington's companions 
 gave a thought to the reports concerning him 
 and his daughter which had been so gratuitously 
 related by Mr. Dyceworthy. 
 
 They had had a glorious day's sail, piloted by 
 Yaldemar Svensen, whose astonishment at seeing 
 the Guldmars on board the Eulalie was depicted 
 in his face, but who prudently forebore from 
 making any remarks thereon. The hoiule hailed 
 him good-humouredly as an old acquaintance, — 
 much in the tone of a master addressing a 
 servant, — and Thelma smiled kindly at him, — 
 but the boundary line between superior and 
 inferior was in this case very strongly marked, 
 and neither side showed any intention of over- 
 stepping it. In the course of the day, Duprez 
 had accidentally lapsed into French, whereupon 
 to his surprise Thelma had answered him in the 
 same tongue, — though with a different and much 
 softer pronunciation. Her '' bieii zoliV had the 
 mellifluous sweetness of the Proven9al dialect, and 
 on his eagerly questioning her, he learned that 
 she had received her education in a large convent 
 at Aries, where she had learned French from the 
 nuns. Her father overheard her talking of her 
 school-days, and he added — 
 
 " Yes, I sent my girl away for her education, 
 
182 THELMA. 
 
 thougli I know the teaching is good in Christiania. 
 Yet it did not seem good enough for her. Besides, 
 your modern ' higher education ' is not the fit thing 
 for a woman, — it is too heavy and commonplace. 
 Thelma knows nothing about mathematics or 
 algebra. She can sing and read and write, — and, 
 what is more, she can spin and sew ; but even 
 these things were not the first consideration 
 with me. I wanted her disposition trained, and 
 her bodily health attended to. I said to those 
 good women at Aries — ' Look here, — here's a child 
 for you ! I don't care how much or how little she 
 knows about accomplishments. I want her to be 
 sound and sweet from head to heel — a clean mind 
 in a wholesome body. Teach her self-respect, and 
 make her prefer death to a lie. Show her the curse 
 of a shrewish temper and the blessing of cheerful- 
 ness. That will satisfy me ! ' I dare say, now I 
 come to think of it, those nuns thought me an odd 
 customer ; but, at any rate, they seemed to under- 
 stand me. Thelma was very happy with them, 
 and considering all things " — the old man's eyes 
 twinkled fondly — "she hasn't turned out so badly!" 
 They laughed, — and Thelma blushed as Erring- 
 ton's dreamy eyes rested on her with a look, which, 
 though he was unconscious of it, spoke passionate 
 admiration. The day passed too quickly with 
 them all, — and now, as they sat at dinner in the 
 richly ornamented saloou, there was not one 
 among them who could contemplate without re- 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 183 
 
 luctance the approaching break-up of so pleasant 
 a party. Dessert was served, and as Thelma 
 toyed with the fruit on her plate and sipped her 
 glass of champagne, her face grew serious and 
 absorbed, — even sad, — and she scarcely seemed to 
 hear the merry chatter of tongues around her, till 
 Errington's voice asking a question of her father 
 roused her into swift attention. 
 
 " Do you know any one of the name of Sigurd ? " 
 he was saying, " A poor fellow whose wits are in 
 heaven let us hope, — for they certainly are not on 
 earth." 
 
 Olaf Glildmar's fine face softened with pity, 
 and he replied — 
 
 '' Sigurd ? Have you met him then ? Ah, 
 poor boy, his is a sad fate ! He has wit enough, 
 but it works wrongly ; the brain is there, but 'tis 
 twisted. Yes, we know Sigurd well enough — his 
 home is with us in default of a better. Ay, ay ! 
 we snatched him from death — perhaps unwisely, — 
 yet he has a good heart and finds pleasure in his 
 life." 
 
 *' He is a kind of poet in his own way," v/ent 
 on Errington, watching Thelma as she listened 
 intently to their conversation. " Do you know he 
 actually visited me on board here last night and 
 begged me to go away from the Alten fjord alto- 
 gether ? He seemed afraid of me, as if he thought 
 I meant to do him some harm." 
 
 " How strange ! " murmured Thelma. " Sigurd 
 
184 THELMA. 
 
 never speaks to visitors, — he is too sliy. I cannot 
 understand his motive ! " 
 
 " Ah, my dear ! " sighed her father. " Has he 
 any motive at all? . . . and does he ever understand 
 himself? His fancies change with every shifting 
 breeze ! I will tell you," he continued, addressing 
 himself to Errington, " how he came to be, as it 
 were, a bit of our home. Just before Thelma was 
 born, I was walking with my wife one day on the 
 shore, when we both caught sight of something 
 bumping against our little pier, like a large box 
 or basket. I managed to get hold of it with a 
 boat-hook and drag it in ; it was a sort of creel 
 such as is used to pack fish in, and in it was the 
 naked body of a half-drowned child. It was an 
 ugly little creature — a newly born infant defor- 
 mity — and on its chest there was a horrible scar 
 in the shape of a cross, as though it had been 
 gashed deeply with a pen-knife. I thought it 
 was dead, and was for throwing it back into the 
 Fjord, but my wife, — a tender-hearted angel, took 
 the poor wretched little wet body in her arms, 
 and found that it breathed. She warmed it, dried 
 it, and wrapped it in her shawl, — and after awhile 
 the tiny monster opened its eyes and stared at 
 her. Well! . . . somehow, neither of us could forget 
 the look it gave us, — such a solemn, warning, piti- 
 ful, appealing sort of expression ! There was no 
 resisting it, — so we took the foundling and did the 
 best we could for him. We gave him the name 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 185 
 
 of Sigurd, — and when Thelma was born, the two 
 babies used to play together all day, and we never 
 noticed anything wrong with the boy, except his 
 natural deformity, till he was about ten or twelve 
 years old. Then we saw to our sorrow that the 
 gods had chosen to play havoc with his wits. 
 However, we humoured him tenderly, and he was 
 always manageable. Poor Sigurd ! He adored 
 my wife ; I have known him listen for hours to 
 catch the sound of her footstep ; be would actually 
 deck the threshold with flowers in the morning 
 that she might tread on them as she passed by." 
 The old honde sighed and rubbed his hand across 
 his eyes with a gesture half of pain, half of im- 
 patience — " And now he is Thelma's slave, — a 
 regular servant to her. She can manage him best 
 of us all, — he is as docile as a lamb, and will do 
 anything she tells him." 
 
 " I am not surprised at that," said the gallant 
 Duprez ; " there is reason in such obedience ! " 
 
 Thelma looked at him inquiringly, ignoring 
 the impUed compHment. 
 
 " You think so ? " she said simply. " I am 
 glad ! I always hope that he will one day be well 
 in mind, — and every little sign of reason in him is 
 pleasant to me." 
 
 Duprez was silent. It was evidently no use 
 making even an attempt at flattering this strange 
 girl ; surely she must be dense not to understand 
 compliments that most other women compel from 
 
186 THELMA. 
 
 the lips of men as their right ? He was confused 
 — his Paris breeding was no use to him — in fact 
 he had been at a loss all day, and his conversa- 
 tion had, even to himself, seemed particularly 
 shallow and frothy. This Mademoiselle Giildraar, 
 as he called her, was by no means stupid — she 
 was not a mere moving statue of lovely flesh and 
 perfect colour whose outward beauty was her only 
 recommendation, — she was, on the contrary, of a 
 most superior intelligence, — she had read much and 
 thought more, — and the dignified elegance of her 
 manner and bearing would have done honour to 
 a queen. After all, thought Duprez musingly, 
 the social creeds of Paris might be wrong — it was 
 just possible ! There might be women who were 
 womanly, — there might be beautiful girls who 
 were neither vain nor frivolous, — there might even 
 be creatures of the feminine sex, beside whom a 
 trained Parisian coquette would seem nothing 
 more than a painted fiend of the neuter gender. 
 These were new and startling considerations to 
 the feather-light mind of the Frenchman, — and 
 unconsciously his fancy began to busy itself with 
 the old romantic histories of the ancient French 
 chivalry, when faith and love and loyalty kept 
 white the lilies of France, and the stately courtesy 
 and unflinching pride of the ancien regime made 
 its name honoured throughout the world. An 
 odd direction indeed for Pierre Duprez's reflec- 
 tions to wander in — he, who never reflected on 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 187 
 
 either past or future, but was content to fritter 
 away the present as pleasantly as might be — and 
 the only reason to which his unusually serious 
 reverie could be attributed was the presence of 
 Thelraa. She certainly had a strange influence 
 on them all, though she herself was not aware of 
 it, — and not only Errington, but each one of his 
 companions had been deeply considering during 
 the day, that notwithstanding the nnheroic ten- 
 dency of modern living, life itself might be turned 
 to good and even noble account, if only an effort 
 were made in the right direction. 
 
 Such was the compelling effect of Thelma's 
 stainless mind reflected in her pure face, on the 
 different dispositions of all the young men ; and 
 she, perfectly unconscious of it, smiled at them 
 and conversed gaily, — little knowing as she talked 
 in her own sweet and unaffected way, that the 
 most profound resolutions were being formed, and 
 the most noble and unselfish deeds were being 
 planned in the souls of her listeners, — all forsooth ! 
 because one fair, innocent woman, had, in the 
 clear, grave glances of her wondrous sea-blue eyes, 
 suddenly made them aware of their own utter 
 unworthiness. Macfarlane, meditatively watching 
 the girl from under his pale eyelashes, thought of 
 Mr. Dyceworthy's matrimonial pretensions with 
 a humorous smile hovering on his thin lips. 
 
 " Ma certes ! the fellow has an unco' gude 
 opeenion o' himsel','' he mused. " He might as 
 
188 THELMA. 
 
 well offer his hand in marriage to the Queen while 
 he's aboot it. — he wad hae just as muckle chance 
 o' acceptance." 
 
 Meanwhile, Errington, having learned all he 
 wished to know concerning Sigurd, was skilfully 
 drawing out old Olaf Guldmar, and getting him 
 to give his ideas on things in general, a task in 
 which Lorimer joined. 
 
 " So you don't think we're making any pro- 
 gress nowadays ? " inquired the latter with an 
 appearance of interest, and a lazy amusement in 
 his blue eyes as he put the question. 
 
 " Progress ! " exclaimed Guldmar. '' Not a 
 bit of it ! It is all a going backward ; it may not 
 seem apparent, but it is so. England, for instance, 
 is losing the great place she once held in the 
 world's history, — and these things always happen 
 to all nations when money becomes more pre- 
 cious to the souls of the people than honesty 
 and honour. I take the universal wide-spread 
 greed of gain to be one of the worst signs of the 
 times, — the forewarning of some great upheaval 
 and disaster, the effects of which no human min(^ 
 can calculate. I am told that America is destined 
 to be the dominating power of the future, — but I 
 doubt it ! Its politics are too corrupt, — its people 
 live too fast and burn their candle at both ends, 
 which is unnatural and most unwholesome ; more- 
 over, it is almost destitute of Art in its highest 
 forms, — and is not its confessed watchword ' the 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 189 
 
 almighty Dollar ? ' And such a country as that 
 expects to arrogate to itself the absolute sway of 
 the world ? I tell you, no — ten thousand times 
 no ! It is destitute of nearly everything that has 
 made nations great and all-powerful in historic 
 annals, — and my belief is that what has been, will 
 be again, ^ — and that what has never been, will 
 never be." 
 
 '^ You mean by that, I suppose, that there is 
 no possibility of doing anything new, — no way of 
 branching out in some better and untried direc- 
 tion ? " asked Errington. 
 
 Olaf Giildmar shook his head emphatically. 
 " You can't do it," he said decisively. " Every- 
 thino' in every way has been begun and com- 
 pleted and then forgotten over and over, in this 
 world, — to be begun and completed and forgotten 
 again, and so on to the end of the chapter. No 
 one nation is better than another in this respect, — ■ 
 there is, — there can be, nothing new. Norway, for 
 example, has had its day ; whether it will ever 
 have another I know not, — at any rate, I shall not 
 
 live to see it. And, yet, what a past ! " He 
 
 broke off and his eyes grew meditative. 
 
 Lorimer looked at him. " You would have 
 been a Yiking, Mr. Giildmar, had you lived in the 
 old days," he said with a smile. 
 
 " I should indeed ! " returned the old man, with 
 an unconsciously haughty gesture of his head ; 
 " And no better fate could have befallen me ! To 
 
190 THELMA. 
 
 sail the seas in hot pursuit of one's enemies or in 
 search of further conquest, — to feel the very wind 
 and sun beating up the blood in one's veins, — to 
 live the life of a man — a true man ! ... in all the 
 pride and worth of strength and invincible vigour ! 
 — how much better than the puling, feeble, sickly 
 existence led by the majority of men to-day ! I 
 dwell apart from them as much as I can, — I steep 
 my mind and body in the joys of Nature and the 
 free fresh air, — but often I feel that the old days of 
 the heroes must have been best, — when Grorm the 
 Bold and the fierce Siegfried seized Paris, and 
 stabled their horses in the chapel where Charle- 
 magne lay buried ! " 
 
 Pierre Duprez looked up with a faint smile. 
 " Ah, pardon I But that was surely a very long 
 time ago ! " 
 
 *' True ! " said Guldmar quietly. " And no 
 doubt you will not believe the story at this dis- 
 tance of years. But the day is coming when 
 people will look back on the little chronicle of 
 your Empire, — your commune, — your republic, all 
 your little affairs and will say, ' Surely these 
 things are myths; they occurred, — if they occurred 
 at all, — a very long time ago ! ' " 
 
 "• Monsieur is a philosopher ! " said Duprez, with 
 a good-humoured gesture ; '' I would not presume 
 to contradict him." 
 
 " You see, my lad," went on Guldmar more 
 gently, " there is much in our ancient Norwegian 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 191 
 
 history that is forgotten or ignored by students of 
 to-day. The travellers that come hither, come to 
 see the glories of our glaciers and fjords, — but they 
 think little or nothing of the vanished tribe of 
 heroes who once possessed the land. If you 
 know your Greek history, you must have heard 
 of Pythias, who lived three hundred and fifty- 
 six years before Christ, and who was taken 
 captive by a band of Norsemen and carried away 
 to see ' the place w^here the sun slept in winter.' 
 Most probably he came to this very spot, the 
 Altenfjord, — at any rate the ancient Greeks had 
 good words to say for the ' Outside North winders,' 
 as they called us Norwegians, for they reported 
 lis to be * persons living in peace with their gods 
 and themselves.' Again, one of the oldest tribes 
 in the world came among us in times past, — the 
 Phoenicians, — there are traces among us still of 
 their customs and manners. Yes ! we have a 
 great deal to look back upon with pride as well 
 as sorrow, — and much as I hear of the wonders of 
 the New World, the marvels and the go-ahead 
 speed of American manners and civilization, — I 
 would rather be a Norseman than a Yankee." 
 And he laughed. 
 
 "There's more dignity in the name, at any 
 rate," said Lorimer. " But I say, Mr. Giildmar, 
 you are ' up ' in history much better than I 
 am. The annals of my country were grounded 
 into my tender soul early in life, but 1 have a 
 
192 THELMA. 
 
 very hazy recollection of them. I know Henry 
 A^IIl. got rid of his wives expeditiously and 
 conveniently, — and I distinctly remember that 
 Queen Elizabeth wore the first pair of silk stock- 
 ings and danced a kind of jig in them with the 
 Earl of Leicester ; these things interested me at 
 the time, — and they now seem firmly impressed 
 on my memory to the exclusion of everything 
 else that might possibly be more important." 
 
 Old Glildmar smiled, but Thelma laughed out- 
 rio'ht and her eyes danced mirthfully. 
 
 " Ah, I do know you now ! " she said, nodding 
 her fair head at him wisely. " You are not any- 
 thins: that is to be believed ! So I shall well 
 understand you, — that is, you are a very great 
 scholar, — but that it pleases you to pretend you 
 are a dunce ! " 
 
 Lorimer's face brightened into a very gentle 
 and winning softness as he looked at her. 
 
 " I assure you, Miss Griildmar, I am not pre- 
 tending in the least. I'm no scholar. Errington 
 is, if you like 1 If it hadn't been for him, I should 
 never have learned anything at Oxford at all. 
 He used to leap over a difficulty while I was look- 
 ing at it. Phil, don't interrupt me, — you know 
 you did ! I tell you he's up to everything : Grreek, 
 Latin, and all the rest of it, — and, what's more, he 
 writes well, — I believe, — though he'll never forgive 
 me for mentioning it, — that he has even published 
 some poems." 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 193 
 
 " Be quiet, George ! " exclaimed Errington, 
 with ^ vexed laugh. " You are boring Miss 
 Guldmar to death ! " 
 
 " What is boring ? " asked Thelma gently, 
 and then turning her eyes full on the young 
 Baronet, she added, " I like to hear that you will 
 pass your days sometimes without shooting the 
 birds and killing the fish ; it can hurt nobody for 
 you to write." And she smiled that dreamy 
 pensive smile of hers that was so infinitely be- 
 witching. " You must show me all your sweet 
 poems ! " 
 
 Errington coloured hotly. " They are all 
 nonsense. Miss Guldmar," he said quickly. 
 " There's nothing ' sweet ' about them, I tell you 
 frankly ! All rubbish, every line of them ! " 
 
 " Then you should not write them," said 
 Thelma quietly. " It is only a pity and a dis- 
 appointment." 
 
 " I wish every one were of your opinion," 
 laughed Lorimer, " it would spare us a lot of in- 
 different verse." 
 
 " Ah ! you have the chief Skald of all the 
 world in your land ! " cried Guldmar, bringing his 
 fist down with a jovial thump on the table. " He 
 can teach you all that you need to know." 
 
 " Skald f " queried Lorimer dubiously. " Oh, 
 you mean bard. I suppose you allude to Shake- 
 speare ? " 
 
 " I do," said the old honde enthusiastically, 
 
 VOL. I. 13 
 
194 THELMA. 
 
 '' he is the only glory of your country I envy ! I 
 would give anything to prove him a Norwegian. 
 By Yalhalla ! had be but been one of the Bards of 
 Odin, the world might have followed the grand old 
 creed still ! If anything could ever persuade me to 
 be a Christian, it would be the fact that Shake- 
 speare was one. If England's name is rendered 
 imperishable, it will be through the fame of 
 Shakespeare alone, — just as we have a kind of 
 tenderness for degraded modern Greece, because 
 of Homer. Ay, ay ! countries and nations are 
 worthless enough ; it is only the great niames of 
 heroes that endure, to teach the lesson that is 
 never learned sufficiently, — namely, that man and 
 man alone is fitted to grasp the prize of im- 
 mortality." 
 
 " Ye believe in immortality ? " inquired Mac- 
 farlane seriously. 
 
 Giildmar's keen eyes lighted on him with fiery 
 impetuousness. 
 
 " Believe in it ? I possess it ! How can it be 
 taken from me? As well make a bird without 
 wings, a tree without sap, an ocean without depth, 
 as expect to find a man without an immortal soul ! 
 "What a question to ask? Do you not possess 
 heaven's gift ? and why should not I ? " 
 
 '*No offence," said Macfarlane, secretly aston- 
 ished at the old bondes fervour, — for had not he, 
 though himself intending to become a devout 
 minister of the Word, — had not he now and then 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 195 
 
 felt a creeping doubt as to whether, after all, there 
 was any truth in the doctrine of another life than 
 this one. " I only thocht ye might have perhaps 
 questioned the probabeelity o't, in your own 
 mind ? " 
 
 "I never question Divine authority," replied 
 Olaf Glildmar, " I pity those that do ! " 
 
 '' And this Divine authority ? " said Duprez 
 suddenly with a delicate sarcastic smile, " How 
 and where do you perceive it ? " 
 
 " In the very Law that compels me to exist, 
 young sir," said Giildmar, — " in the mysteries of 
 the universe about me,— the glory of the heavens, 
 — the wonders of the sea ! You have perhaps lived 
 in cities all your life, and your mind is cramped a 
 bit. No wonder, . . . you can hardly see the stars 
 above the roofs of a wilderness of houses. Cities 
 are men's work, — the gods have never had a finger 
 in the building of them. Dwelling in them, I 
 suppose you cannot help forgetting Divine authority 
 altogether ; but here, — here among the mountains, 
 you would soon remember it ! You should live 
 here, — it would make a man of you ! " 
 
 '' And you do not consider me a man ? " in- 
 quired Duprez with imperturbable good-humour. 
 
 Giildmar laughed. "Well, not quite!" he 
 admitted candidly, " there's not enough muscle 
 about you. I confess I like to see strong fellows — 
 fellows fit to rule the planet on which they are 
 placed. That's my whim ! — bat you're a neat little 
 
196 THELMA. 
 
 cbap enough, and I dare say you can hold your 
 own ! '' 
 
 And bis eyes twinkled good-temperedly as he 
 filled himself another glass of his host's fine Bur- 
 gundy and drank it off, while Duprez, with a half- 
 plaintive, half-eomical shrug of resignation to 
 Giildmar's verdict on his personal appearance, 
 asked Thelma if she would favour them with a 
 song. She rose from her seat instantly, without 
 any affected hesitation, and went to the piano. 
 She had a delicate touch, and accompanied herself 
 with great taste, — but her voice, full, penetrating, 
 rich and true, — was one of the purest and most 
 sympathetic ever possessed by woman, and its fresh- 
 ness was unspoilt by any of the varied " systems " 
 of torture invented by singing-masters for the in- 
 genious destruction of the delicate vocal organ. 
 She sang a Norwegian love-song in the original 
 tongue, which might be roughly translated as 
 follows : — 
 
 " Lovest tbo\i me for my beauty's sake ? 
 Love me cot then ! 
 LoTe the Tictorious. glittering Sun, 
 The fadeless, dt-athless, marvellous One ! 
 
 ** Lovest thou me for my youth's sake ? 
 L'^ve me not then ! 
 Love the triumphant, unperishing Spring, 
 Who every year Dew charms doth bring ! 
 
 ** Lovest thou me for tre.isure's sake ? 
 Oh, love me not then ! 
 Love the deep, the wou-^erful Sea, 
 Its jewels are worihier love than me ! " 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 197 
 
 " Lovest thou me for Love's own sake ? 
 Ah sweet, then love rae ! 
 More than the Sun and the Spring and the Sea, 
 Is the foithful heart I will yield to thee ! " 
 
 A silence greeted the close of her song. 
 Though the young men were ignorant of the 
 meaning of the words till old Glildmar translated 
 them for their benefit, they could feel the intensity 
 of the passion vibrating through her ringing- 
 tones, — and Errington sighed involuntarily. She 
 heard the sigh, and turned round on the music- 
 stool laughing. 
 
 " Are you so tired, or sad, or what is it ? " she 
 asked merrily. " It is too melancholy a tune ? 
 And I was foolish to sing it, — because you cannot 
 understand the meaning of it. It is all about 
 love, — and of course love is always sorrowful." 
 
 " Always ? " asked Lorimer, with a half-smile. 
 
 '' I do not know," she said frankly, with a 
 pretty deprecatory gesture of her hands, — "but all 
 books say so ! It must be a great pain and also a 
 great happiness. Let me think what I can sing 
 to you now, — but perhaps you will yourself 
 
 sing ? 
 
 Not one of us have a voice. Miss Guldmar," 
 said Errington. " I used to think I had, but 
 Lorimer discouraged my efforts." 
 
 " Men shouldn't sing," observed Lorimer ; '* if 
 they only knew how awfully ridiculous they look, 
 standing up in dress-coats and white ties, pouring 
 
198 THELMA. 
 
 forth inane love-ditties that nohody wants to hear, 
 they wouldn't do it. Only a woman looks pretty 
 while singing." 
 
 " Ah, that is very nice ! " said Thelma, with a 
 demure smile. " Then I am agreeable to you 
 when I sing ? " 
 
 Agreeable ? This was far too tame a word — 
 they all rose from the table and came towards her, 
 with many assurances of their delight and admira- 
 tion ; but she put all their compliments aside with 
 a little gesture that was both incredulous and 
 peremptory. 
 
 " You must not say so many things in praise 
 of me," she said, with a swift upward glance at 
 Errington, where he leaned on the piano regarding 
 her. " It is nothing to be able to sing. It is only 
 like the birds, but we cannot understand the 
 words they say, just as you cannot understand 
 Norwegian. Listen, — here is a little ballad }ou 
 will all know," and she played a soft prelude, 
 while her voice, subdued to a plaintive murmur, 
 rippled out in the dainty verses of Sainte-Beuve — 
 
 " Sur ma lyre, I'autre fois 
 
 Dans un bois, 
 Ma main preludait a peine ; 
 Una colombe descend 
 
 En passant, 
 Blanche sur le luth d'ebene. 
 
 " Mais au lieu d'accords touchants, 
 De doiix chants. 
 La colombe gemissante 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 199 
 
 Me demande par pitie 
 
 Sa moitie 
 Sa moitie loin d'elle absente ! " 
 
 She sang this seriously and sweetly till she 
 came to the last three lines, when, catching Er- 
 rington's earnest gaze, her voice quivered and her 
 cheeks flushed. She rose from the piano as soon 
 as she had finished, and said to the bonde, who 
 had been watching her with proud and gratified 
 looks — 
 
 " It is growing late, father. We must say 
 good-bye to our friends and return home." 
 
 " Not yet ! " eagerly implored Sir Philip. 
 " Come up on deck, — we will have coffee there, 
 and afterwards you shall leave us when you 
 will." 
 
 Giildmar acquiesced in this arrangement before 
 his daughter had time to raise any objection, and 
 they all went on deck, where a comfortable loung- 
 ing chair was placed for Thelma, facing the most 
 gorgeous portion of the glowing sky, which on 
 this evening was like a moving mass of molten 
 gold, split asunder here and there by angry 
 ragged-looking rifts of crimson. The young men 
 grouped themselves together at the prow of the 
 vessel in order to smoke their cigars without 
 annoyance to Thelma. Old Giildmar did not 
 smoke, but he talked, — and Errington after seeing 
 them all fairly absorbed in an argument on the 
 best methods of spearing salmon, moved quietly 
 
200 TUELMA. 
 
 away to where the girl was sitting, her great 
 pensive eyes fixed on the burning splendours of 
 the heavens. 
 
 " x^Lre you warm enough there ? " he asked, 
 and there was an unconscious tenderness in his 
 voice as he asked the question, " or shall I fetch 
 you a wrap ? " 
 
 She smiled. " I have my hood," she said, — 
 " It is the warmest thing I ever wear, except, of 
 course, in winter." 
 
 Philip looked at the hood as she drew it more 
 closely over her head, and thought that surely no 
 more becoming article of apparel ever was de- 
 si o:ned for woman's wear. He had never seen 
 anything like it either in colour or texture, — it 
 was of a peculiarly warm, rich crimson, like the 
 heart of a red damask rose, and it suited the 
 bright hair and tender, thoughtful eyes of its 
 owner to perfection. 
 
 " Tell me," he said, drawing a little nearer and 
 speaking in a lower tone, " have you forgiven 
 me for my rudeness the first time I saw you ? " 
 
 She looked a little troubled. 
 
 " Perhaps also I was rude," she said gently. 
 '* I did not know you. I thought " 
 
 " You were quite right," he eagerly interrupted 
 her. " It was very impertinent of me to ask you 
 for your name. I should have found it out for 
 myself, as I have done." 
 
 And he smiled at her as he said the last words 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 201 
 
 with marked emphasis. She raised her eyes wist- 
 fully. 
 
 " And you are glad ? " she asked softly and 
 with a sort of wonder in her accents. 
 
 " Glad to know your name ? glad to know 
 vou ! Of course ! Can you ask such a ques- 
 tion ? " 
 
 " But why ? " persisted Thelma. " It is not as 
 if you were lonely, — you have friends already. We 
 are nothing to you. Soon you will go away, and 
 you will think of the Altenfjord as a dream, — and 
 our names will be forgotten. That is natural ! " 
 
 What a foolish rush of passion filled his heart 
 as she spoke in those mellow, almost plaintive 
 accents, — what wild words leaped to his lips and 
 what an effort it cost him to keep them back. 
 The heat and impetuosity of Romeo, — whom up to 
 the present he had been inclined to consider a 
 particularly stupid youth, — was now quite compre- 
 hensible to his mind, and he, the cool, self-pos- 
 sessed Englishman, was ready at that moment to 
 outrival Juliet's lover in his utmost excesses of 
 amorous folly. In spite of his self-restraint, his 
 voice quivered a little as he answered her — 
 
 " I shall never forget the Altenfjord or you. 
 Miss Guldmar. Don't you know there are some 
 things that cannot be forgotten? such as a sudden 
 glimpse of fine scenery, — a beautiful song, or a 
 pathetic poem ? " She bent her head in assent. 
 " xVnd here there is so much to remember — the 
 
202 THELMA. 
 
 light of the midnight sun, — the glorious mountains, 
 the loveliness of the whole land ! '' 
 
 " Is it better than other countries you have 
 seen ? " asked the girl with some interest. 
 
 " Much better ! " returned Sir Philip fervently. 
 " In fact, there is no place like it in my opinion." 
 He paused at the sound of her pretty laughter. 
 
 " You are — what is it ? — ecstatic ! " she said 
 mirthfully. " Tell me, have you been to the south 
 of France and the Pyrenees ? " 
 
 " Of course I have," he replied. " I have been 
 all over the Continent, — travelled about it till I'm 
 tired of it. Do you like the south of France better 
 than Norway ? " 
 
 '' No, — not so very much better," she said dubi- 
 ously. " And yet a little. It is so warm and 
 bright there, and the people are gay. Here tbey 
 are stern and sullen. My father loves to sail the 
 seas, and when I first went to school at Aries, he 
 took me a long and beautiful vo3^age. We went 
 from Christiansund to Holland, and saw all those 
 pretty Dutch cities with their canals and quaint 
 bridges. Then we went through the English 
 Channel to Brest, — then by the Bay of Biscay to 
 Bayonne. Bayonne seemed to me very lovely, but 
 we left it soon, and travelled a long way by land, 
 seeing all sorts of wonderful things, till we came 
 to Aries. And though it is such a long route, and 
 not one for many persons to take, I have travelled 
 to Aries and back twice that way, so all there is 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 203 
 
 familiar to me, — and in some things I do think it 
 better than Norway." 
 
 " What induced your father to send you so far 
 away from him ? " asked Phih'p rather curiously. 
 
 The girl's eyes softened tenderly. " Ah, that 
 is easy to understand ! " she said. " My mother 
 came from Aries." 
 
 " She was French, then ? " he exclaimed with 
 some surprise. 
 
 " No," she answered gravely. " She was Nor- 
 wegian, because her father and mother both were 
 of this land. She was what they call ' born sadly.' 
 You must not ask me any more about her, please ! " 
 
 Errington apologized at once with some em- 
 barrassment, and a deeper colour than usual on 
 his face. She looked up at him quite frankly. 
 
 " It is possible I will tell you her history some 
 day," she said, " when we shall know each other 
 better. I do like to talk to you very much ! I 
 suppose there are not many Englishmen like 
 you?" _ 
 
 Philip laughed. " I don't think I am at all 
 exceptional ! Why do you ask ? " 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. " I have seen 
 some of them," she said slowly, " and they are 
 stupid. They shoot, shoot, — fish, fish, all day, and 
 eat a great deal . . ." 
 
 " My dear Miss Giildmar, I also do all tliese 
 things ! " declared Errington amusedly. " These 
 are only our surface faults. Englishmen are the 
 
204 THELMA. 
 
 best fellows to be found anywhere. You mustn't 
 judge tliem by tlieir athletic sports or their vulgar 
 appetites. You must appeal to their hearts when 
 you want to know them." 
 
 " Or to their pockets, and you will know them 
 still better ! " said Thelma almost mischievously, as 
 she raised herself in her chair to take a cup of 
 coffee from the tray that was then being handed 
 to her by the respectful steward. " Ah, how good 
 this is ! It reminds me of our coffee luncheon at 
 Aries I " 
 
 Errington watched her with a half-smile, but 
 said no more, as the others now came up to claim 
 their share of her company. 
 
 " I say ! " said Lorimer, lazily throwing himself 
 full length on the deck and looking up at her, 
 " Come and see us spear a salmon to-morrow, Miss 
 Glildmar ! Your father is going to show us how 
 to do it in proper Norse style." 
 
 " That is for men," said Thelma loftily. 
 " Women must know nothing about such things." 
 
 " By Jove ! " and Lorimer looked profoundly 
 astonished. ''Why, Miss Guldmar, women are 
 2:oing in for everything nowadays ! Hunting, 
 shooting, bull-fighting, duelling, horse-whipping, 
 lecturing, — heaven knows what! They stop at 
 nothing — salmon-spearing is a mere trifle in the 
 list of modern feminine accomplishments." 
 
 Thelma smiled down upon him benignly. 
 '' You will always be the same," she said with a 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 205 
 
 sort of indulgent air. " It is your delight to say 
 things upside down ! But you shall not make me 
 believe that women do all these dreadful things. 
 Because, how is it possible ? The men would not 
 allow them ! " 
 
 Errington laughed, and Lorimer appeared 
 stupefied with surprise. 
 
 " The men — would — not — allow them ? " he 
 repeated slowly. " Oh, Miss Giildmar, little do 
 you realize the state of things at the present day ! 
 The glamour of Viking memories clings about you 
 still ! Don't you know the power of man has 
 passed away, and that ladies do exactly as they 
 like ? It is easier to control the thunderbolt than 
 to prevent a woman having her own way." 
 
 " All that is nonsense!" said Thelma decidedly. 
 " Where there is a man to rule, he must rule, 
 that is certain." 
 
 " Is that positively your opinion ? " and Lori- 
 mer looked more astonished than ever. 
 
 " It is everybody's opinion, of course ! " averred 
 Thelma. " How foolish it would be if women did 
 not obey men! The world would be all confusion ! 
 Ah, you see you cannot make me think your funny 
 thoughts ; it is no use ! " And she laughed and 
 rose from her chafr, adding with a gentle per- 
 suasive air, " Father dear, is it not time to say 
 good-bye ? " 
 
 "Truly I think it is!" returned Guldmar, 
 giving himself a shake like an old lion, as he 
 
206 THELMA. 
 
 broke off a rather tedious conversation he had 
 been having with Macfarlane. " We shall have 
 Sigurd coming to look for us, and poor Britta 
 will think we have left her too long alone. Thank 
 you, my lad!" this to Sir Philip, who instantly 
 gave orders for the boat to be lowered. " You 
 have given us a day of thorough, wholesome 
 enjoyment. I hope I shall be able to return it in 
 some way. You must let us see as much of you 
 as possible." 
 
 They shook hands cordially, and Errington 
 proposed to escort them back as far as their own 
 pier, but this offer Guldmar refused. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " he exclaimed cheerily. " Witli 
 four oarsmen to row us along, why should we 
 take you away from your friends ? I won't hear 
 of such a thing ! And now, regarding the great 
 fall of Njedegorze ; Mr. Macfarlane here says you 
 have not visited it yet. Well, the best guide you 
 can have there is Sigurd. We'll make up a party 
 and go when it is agreeable to you ; it is a grand 
 sight, — well worth seeing. To-morrow we shall 
 meet again for the salmon-spearing, — I warrant 
 I shall be able to make the time pass quickly for 
 you ! How long do you think of staying here ? " 
 
 " As long as possible ! " answered Errington 
 absently, his eyes wandering to Thelma, who was 
 just then shaking hands with his friends and 
 bidding them farewell. 
 
 Guldmar laughed and clapped him on the 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 207 
 
 shoulder. " That means till you are tired of the 
 place," he said good-humouredly. "Well, you shall 
 not be dull if I can prevent it I Good-bye, and 
 thanks for your hospitality." 
 
 " Ah, yes ! " added Thelma gently, coming up 
 at that moment and laying her soft hand in his. 
 '* I have been so happy all day, and it is all your 
 kindness ! I am very grateful ! " 
 
 " It is I who have cause to be grateful," said 
 Errington hurriedly, clasping her hand warmly, 
 '' for your company and that of your father. I 
 trust we shall have many more pleasant days 
 together." 
 
 " I hope so too ! " she answered simply, and 
 then, the boat being ready, they departed. 
 Errington and Lorimer leaned on the deck- rails, 
 waving their hats and watching them disappear 
 over the gleaming water, till the very last glimpse 
 of Thelma's crimson hood had vanished, and then 
 they turned to rejoin their companions, who were 
 strolling up and down smoking. 
 
 '' Btlle comme un ange ! " said Duprez briefly. 
 " In short, I doubt if the angels are so good- 
 looking 1 " 
 
 '' The auld pagan's a fine scholar," added 
 Macfarlane meditatively. " lie corrected me in 
 a bit o' Latin." 
 
 " Did he, indeed ? " And Lorimer laughed 
 indolently. " I suppose you think better of him 
 now, Sandy ? " 
 
208 THELMA. 
 
 Sandy made no reply, and as Errington per- 
 sisted in turning the conversation away from the 
 merits or demerits of their recent guests, they 
 soon entered on other topics. But that night, 
 before retiring to rest, Lorimer laid a hand on his 
 friend's shoulder, and said quietly, with a keen 
 look — 
 
 " Well, old man. have you made up your 
 mJnd ? Have I seen the future Lady Bruce- 
 Errington ? " 
 
 Sir Philip smiled, — then, after a brief pause, 
 answered steadily — 
 
 " Yes, George, you have ! That is, — if I can 
 win her 1 " 
 
 Lorimer laughed a little and sighed. " There's 
 no doubt about that, Phil." And eyeing Erring- 
 ton's fine figure and noble features musingly, he 
 repeated again thoughtfully — "No doubt about 
 that, my boy ! " Then, after a pause, he said 
 somewhat abruptly. ''Time to turn in — good 
 night ! " 
 
 " Good night, old fellow 1 " And Errington 
 wrung his hand warmly, and left him to repose. 
 
 But Lorimer had rather a bad night, — he tossed 
 and tumbled a good deal, and had dreams, — un- 
 usual visitors with him, — and once or twice he 
 muttered in his sleep, — " No doubt about it — not 
 the least in the world — and if there were " 
 
 But the conclusion of this sentence was in- 
 audible. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDN-IGHT SUN. 209 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 " Tu vas faire un beau reve, 
 
 Et t'enivrer d'un plaisir dangereux. 
 Sur ton chemin I'etoile qui se leve 
 
 Lungtemps encore eblouira tes yeux ! " 
 
 De Musset. 
 
 A FORTNIGHT passed. The first excursion in the 
 Eulalie had been followed by others of a similar 
 kind, and Errington's acquaintance with the 
 Giildmars was fast ripening into a pleasant 
 intimacy. It had grown customary for the young 
 men to spend that part of the day which, in 
 spite of persistent sunshine, they still called 
 evening, in the comfortable, quaint parlour of the 
 old farmhouse, — looking at the view through the 
 rose-wreathed windows, — listening to the fantastic 
 legends of Norway as told by Olaf Guldmar, — or 
 watching Thelma's picturesque figure, as she sat 
 pensively apart in her shadowed corner spinning. 
 They had fraternized with Sigurd too, — that is, as 
 far as he would permit them — for the unhappy 
 dwarf was uncertain of temper, and if at one 
 
 VOL. I. 14 
 
210 THELMA. 
 
 hour he were docile and yielding as a child, the 
 next he would be found excited and furious at 
 some imaginary slight that he fancied had been 
 inflicted upon him. Sometimes, if good-humoured, 
 he would talk almost rationally, — only allowing his 
 fancy to play with poetical ideas concerning the 
 sea, the flowers, or the sunlight, — but he was far 
 more often sullen and silent. He would draw a 
 low chair to Thelma's side, and sit there with 
 half-closed eyes and compressed lips, and none 
 could tell whether he listened to the conversation 
 around him, or was utterly indifferent to it. He 
 had taken a notable fancy to Lorimer, but he 
 avoided Errington in the most marked and per- 
 sistent manner. The latter did his best to over- 
 come this unreasonable dislike, but his efforts 
 were useless, — and deciding in his own mind that 
 it was best to humour Sigurd's vagaries, he soon 
 let him alone, and devoted his attention more 
 entirely to Thelma. 
 
 One evening, after supper at the farmhouse, 
 Lorimer, who for some time had been watching 
 Philip and Thelma conversing together in low 
 tones near the open window, rose from his seat 
 quietly, without disturbing the hilarity of the 
 bonde, who was in the middle of a rollicking 
 sea-story, told for Macfarlane's entertainment, — 
 and slipped out into the garden, where he strolled 
 aloLg rather absently till he found himself in 
 the little close thicket of pines, — the very same 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 211 
 
 spot where be and Philip had stood on the first 
 day of their visit thither. He threw himself 
 down on the soft emerald moss and lit a cigar, 
 sighing rather drearily as he did so. 
 
 '' Upon my life," he mused, with a half-smile, 
 '^ I am very nearly being a hero, — a regular stage- 
 martyr, — the noble creature of the piece ! By 
 Jove, I wish I were a soldier ! I'm certain I 
 could stand the enemy's fire better than this ! 
 Self-denial ? Well, no wonder the preachers make 
 such a fuss about it. It's a tough, uncomfortable 
 duty. But am I self-denying ? Not a bit of it ! 
 Look here, George Lorimer " — here he tapped 
 himself very vigorously on his broad chest — ■ 
 " don't you imagine yourself to be either virtuou^^ 
 or magnanimous 1 If you were anything of a man 
 at all you would never let your feelings get the 
 better of you,— you would be sublimely indifferent, 
 stoically calm, — and, as it is, — you know what a 
 sneaking, hang-dog state of envy you were in 
 just now when you came out of that room ! Aren't 
 you ashamed of yourself, — rascal ? " 
 
 The inner self he thus addressed was most 
 probably abashed by this adjuration, for his coun- 
 tenance cleared a little, as though he had received 
 an apology from his own conscience. He puffed 
 lazily at his cigar, and felt somewhat soothed. 
 Light steps below him attracted his attention, 
 and, looking down from the little knoll on which 
 he lay, he saw Thelma and Philip pass. They 
 
212 THELMA. 
 
 were walking slowly along a little winding path 
 that led to the orchard, which was situated at 
 some little distance from the house. The girl's 
 head was bent, and Philip was talking to her with 
 evident eagerness. Lorimer looked after them 
 earnestly, and his honest eyes were full of trouble. 
 
 " God bless them both ! " he murmured half 
 aloud. " There's no harm in saying that, anyhow! 
 Dear old Phil ! I wonder whether " 
 
 What he would have said was uncertain, for 
 at that moment he was considerably startled by 
 the sight of a meagre, pale face peering through 
 the parted pine-boughs, — a face in which two 
 wild eyes shone with a blue-green glitter like 
 that of newly sharpened steel. 
 
 " Hullo, Sigurd ! " said Lorimer good- 
 naturedly, as he recognized his visitor. " What 
 are you up to ? Going to climb a tree ? " 
 
 Sigurd pushed aside the branches cautiously 
 and approached. He sat down by Lorimer, and, 
 taking his hand, kissed it deferentially. 
 
 " I followed you. I saw you go away to grieve 
 alone. I came to grieve also ! " he said with a 
 patient gentleness. 
 
 Lorimer laughed languidly. '' By Jove, 
 Sigurd, you're too clever for your age ! Think 
 I came away to grieve, eh ? Not so, my boy — 
 came away to smoke ! There's a come-down for 
 you ! 1 never grieve — don't know how to do it. 
 What is grief?'* 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 213 
 
 " To love ! " answered Sigurd promptly. " To see 
 a beauliful elf with golden wings come fluttering, 
 fluttering gently down from the sky, — you open 
 your arms to catch her — so ! . . . and just as you 
 think you have her, she leans only a little bit 
 on one side and falls, not into your heart — no ! 
 — into the heart of some one else ! That is grief, 
 because, when she has gone, no more elves come 
 down from the sky, — for you, at any rate, — good 
 things may come for others, — but for t/ou the 
 heavens are empty ! " 
 
 Lo rimer was silent, looking at the speaker 
 curiously. 
 
 " How do you get all this nonsense into your 
 head, eh ? " he inquired kindly. 
 
 " I do not know," replied Sigurd with a sigh. 
 " It comes ! But, tell me," — and he smiled wist- 
 fully — " it is true, dear friend — good friend — it is 
 all true, is it not? For you the heavens are 
 empty ? You know it ! " 
 
 Lorimer flushed hotly, and then grew strangely 
 pale. After a pause, he said in his usual indolent 
 way— ^ ^ , 
 
 " Look here, Sigurd ; you're romantic ! I'm 
 not. I know nothing about elves or empty 
 heavens. I'm all right 1 Don't you bother your- 
 self about me." 
 
 The dwarf studied his face attentively, and 
 a smile of almost fiendish cunning suddenly 
 illumined his thin features. He laid his weak- 
 
214 THELMA. 
 
 looking white "hand on the young man's arm and 
 said in a lower tone — 
 
 " I will tell you what to do. Kill him ! " 
 
 The last two words were uttered with such 
 intensity of meaning that Lorimer positively 
 recoiled from the accents, and the terrible look 
 which accompanied them. 
 
 " I say, Sigurd, this won't do," he remonstrated 
 gravely. " You mustn't talk about killing, you 
 know ! It's not good for you. People don't kill 
 each other nowadays so easily as you seem to 
 think. It can't be done, Sigurd ! Nobody wants 
 to do it." 
 
 " It can be done ! " reiterated the dwarf im- 
 peratively. '' It must be done, and either you or 
 I will do it ! He shall not rob us, — he shall not 
 steal the treasure of the golden midnight. He 
 shall not gather the rose of all roses " 
 
 " Stop ! " said Lorimer suddenly. " Who are 
 you talking about ? " 
 
 " Who ! " cried Sigurd excitedly. " Surely 
 you know. Of him — that tall, proud, grey-eyed 
 Englishman, — your foe, your rival ; the rich, 
 cruel Errington ..." 
 
 Lorimer's hand fell heavily on his shoulder, 
 and his voice was very stern. 
 
 " What nonsense, Sigurd ! You don't know 
 what you are talking about to-day. Errington 
 my foe ! Good heavens ! Why, he's my best 
 friend ! Do you hear ? " 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 215 
 
 Sigurd stared up at him in vacant surprise, but 
 nodded feebly. 
 
 " Well, mind you remember it ! The spirits 
 tell lies, my boy, if they say that he is my enemy. 
 I would give my life to save his ! " 
 
 He spoke quietly, and rose from his seat on 
 the moss as he finished his words, and his face 
 had an expression that was both noble and 
 resolute. 
 
 Sigurd still gazed upon him. '' And you, — you 
 do not love Thelma ? " he murmured. 
 
 Lorimer started, but controlled himself in- 
 stantly. His frank English eyes met the feverishly 
 brilliant ones fixed so appealingly upon him. 
 
 " Certainly not ! " he said calmly, with a serene 
 smile. " What makes you think of such a thing ? 
 Quite wrong, Sigurd, — the spirits have made a 
 mistake again ! Come along, — let us join the 
 others." 
 
 But Sigurd would not accompany him. He 
 sprang away like a frightened animal, in haste, 
 and abruptly plunging into the depths of a wood 
 that bordered on Olaf Glildmar's grounds, was 
 soon lost to sight. Lorimer looked after him in 
 a little perplexity. 
 
 " I wonder if he ever gets dangerous ? " he 
 thought. " A fellow with such queer notions 
 might do some serious harm without meaning it. 
 I'll keep an eye on him ! " 
 
 And once or twice during that same evening 
 
216 THELMA. 
 
 he felt inclined to speak to Errington on the 
 subject, but no suitable opportunity presented 
 itself, — and after a while, with his habitual indo- 
 lence, he partly forgot the circumstance. 
 
 On the following Sunday afternoon Thelma 
 sat alone under the wide blossom-covered porch, 
 r-eading. Her father and Sigurd, — accompanied by 
 Errington and his friends, — had all gone for a 
 mountain ramble, promising to return for supper, 
 a substantial meal which Britta was already busy 
 preparing. The afternoon was very warm, — one 
 of those long, lazy stretches of heat and brilliancy 
 in which Nature herself seems to have lain down 
 to rest like a child tired of play, sleeping in the 
 sunshine with drooping flowers in her hands. 
 The very ripple of the stream seemed hushed, and 
 Thelma, though her eyes were bent seriously on 
 the book she held, sighed once or twice heavily as 
 though she were tired. There was a change in 
 the girl, — an undefinable something seemed to have 
 passed over her and toned down the redundant 
 brightness of her beauty. She was paler, — and 
 there were darker shadows than usual under the 
 splendour of her eyes. Her very attitude, as 
 she leaned her head against the dark, fantastic 
 carving of the porch, had a touch of listlessness 
 and indifference in it ; her sweetly arched lips 
 drooped with a plaintive little line at the corners, 
 and her whole air was indicative of fatigue 
 mingled with sadness. She looked up now and 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 217 
 
 then from the printed page, and her gaze wandered 
 over the stretch of the scented, flower-filled garden 
 to the little silvery glimmer of the Fjord, from 
 whence arose, like delicate black streaks against 
 the sky, the slender masts of the Eulalie, — and 
 then she would resume her reading with a slight 
 movement of impatience. 
 
 The volume she held was Victor Hugo's 
 " Orientales," and though her sensitive imagina- 
 tion delighted in poetry as much as in sunshine, 
 she found it for once hard to rivet her attention 
 as closely as she wished to do, on the exquisite 
 wealth of language and glow of colour that dis- 
 tinguishes the writings of the Shakespeare of 
 France. Witliin the house Britta was singing 
 cheerily at her work, and the sound of her song 
 alone disturbed the silence. Two or three pale- 
 blue butterflies danced drowsily in and out a 
 cluster of honeysuckle that trailed downwards, 
 nearly touching Thelma's shoulder, and a diminu- 
 tive black kitten, with a pink ribbon round its 
 neck, sate gravely on the garden path, washing 
 its face with its tiny velvety paws in that de- 
 liberate and precise fashion common to the spoilt 
 and petted members of its class. Everything was 
 still and peaceful as became a Sunday afternoon, — 
 so that when the sound of a heavy advancing 
 footstep disturbed the intense calm, the girl was 
 almost nervously startled, and rose from her seat 
 with so much precipitation, that the butterflies, 
 
218 THELMA. 
 
 who had possibly been considering whether her 
 hair might not be some new sort of sunflower, 
 took fright and flew far upwards, and the demure 
 kitten, scared out of its absurd self-consciousness, 
 scrambled hastily up the nearest little tree. The 
 intruder on the quietude of Glildmar's domain was 
 the Rev. Mr. Dyceworthy, — and as Thelma, stand- 
 ing erect in the porch, beheld him coming, her 
 face grew stern and resolute, and her eyes flashed 
 disdainfully. 
 
 Ignoring the repellant, almost defiant dignity 
 of the girl's attitude, Mr. Dyceworthy advanced, 
 rather out of breath and somewhat heated, — and 
 smiling benevolently, nodded his head by way of 
 greeting, without removing his hat. 
 
 " Ah, Froken Thelma 1 " he observed conde- 
 scendingly. ''And how are you to-day? You 
 look remarkably well — remarkably so, indeed ! " 
 And he eyed her with mild approval. 
 
 " I am well, I thank you," she returned quietly. 
 "• My father is not in, Mr. Dyceworthy." 
 
 The Reverend Charles wiped his hot face, and 
 his smile grew wider. 
 
 " What matter ? " he inquired blandly. " We 
 shall, no doubt, entertain ourselves excellently 
 without him ! It is with you alone, Froken, that 
 I am desirous to hold converse." 
 
 And, without waiting for her permission, he 
 entered the porch and settled himself comfortably 
 on the bench opposite to her, heaving a sigh of 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 219 
 
 relief as he did so. Thelma remained standing — 
 and the Lutheran minister's covetous eye glanced 
 greedily over the sweeping curves of her queenly 
 figure, the dazzling whiteness of her slim arched 
 throat, and the glitter of her rich hair. She was 
 silent, — and there was something in her manner 
 as she confronted him that made it difficult for 
 Mr. Dyceworthy to speak. He hummed and 
 hawed several times, and settled his stiff collar 
 once or twice as though it hurt him ; finally he 
 said with an evident effort — 
 
 " I have found a — a — trinket of yours — a 
 trifling toy — which, perhaps, you would be glad 
 to have again." And he drew carefully out of 
 his w^aistcoat pocket a small parcel wrapped up in 
 tissue paper, which he undid w^ith his fat fingers, 
 thus displaying the little crucifix he had kept so 
 long in his possession. " Concerning this," he 
 went on, holding it up before her, " I am grievously 
 troubled, — and would fain say a few necessary 
 words " 
 
 She interrupted him, reaching out her hand 
 for the cross as she spoke. 
 
 '' That was my mother's crucifix," she said in 
 solemn, infinitely tender accents, with a mist as of 
 unshed tears in her sweet blue eyes. " It was 
 round her neck when she died. I knew I had lost 
 it, and was very unhappy about it. I do thank 
 you with all my heart for bringing it back to me ! " 
 
 And the hauteur of her face relaxed, and her 
 
220 THELMA. 
 
 smile,— that sudden sweet smile of hers, — shone 
 forth like a gleam of sunshine athwart a cloud. 
 
 Mr. Dyceworthy's breath came and went with 
 curious rapidity. His visage grew pale, and a 
 clammy dew broke out upon his forehead. He 
 took the hand she held out, — a fair, soft hand with 
 a pink palm like an upcurled shell, — and laid the 
 little cross within it, and still retaining his hold 
 of her, he stamnaeringly observed — 
 
 " Then we are friends, Froken Thelma ! . . . 
 good friends, I hope ? " 
 
 She withdrew her fingers quickly from his 
 hot, moist clasp, and her bright smile vanished. 
 
 " I do not see that at all ! " she replied frigidly. 
 " Friendship is very rare. To be friends, one 
 must have similar tastes and sympathies, — many 
 things which we have not, — and which we shall 
 never have. I am slow to call any person my 
 friend." 
 
 Mr. Dyceworthy's small pursy mouth drew 
 itself into a tight thin line. 
 
 " Except," he said, with a suave sneer, '' ex- 
 cept when ' any person ' happens to be a rich 
 Englishman with a handsome face and easy 
 manners ! . . . then you are not slow to make 
 friends, Froken, — on the contrary, you are re- 
 markably quick ! " 
 
 The cold haughty stare with which the girl 
 favoured him might have frozen a less conceited 
 man to a pillar of ice. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 221 
 
 " What do you mean ? " she asked ahruptly, 
 and with an air of surprise. 
 
 The minister's little ferret-like eyes drooped 
 under their puffy lids, and he fidgeted on the seat 
 with uncomfortable embarrassment. He answered 
 her in the mildest of mild voices. 
 
 " You are unlike yourself, my dear Froken I " 
 he said, with a soothing gesture of one of his 
 well-trimmed white hands. " You are generally 
 frank and open, but to-day I find you just a little, — 
 well ! — what shall I say — secretive ? Yes, we will 
 call it secretive ! Oh, fie ! " and Mr. Dyceworthy 
 laughed a gentle little laugh ; '' you must not 
 pretend ignorance of what I mean I All the 
 neighbourhood is talking of you and the gentle- 
 men you are so often seen with. Notably con- 
 cerning Sir Philip Errington, — the evil tongue of 
 rumour is busy, — for, according to his first plans, 
 when his yacht arrived here, he wa,s bound for 
 the North. Cape, — and should have gone there days 
 ago. Truly, I think, — and there are others who 
 think also in the same spirit of interest for you, — 
 that the sooner this young man leaves our peaceful 
 Fjord the better, — and the less he has to do with the 
 maidens of the district, the safer we shall be from 
 the risk of scandal." And he heaved a pious sigh. 
 Thelma turned her eyes upon him in wonder- 
 ment. 
 
 *' I do not understand you," she said coldly. 
 *' Why do you speak of others ? No othpi'S are 
 
222 THELMA. 
 
 interested in what I do. Why should they be ? 
 Why should you be ? There is no need ! " 
 
 Mr. Dyceworthy grew slightly excited. He 
 felt like a runner nearing the winning-post. 
 
 " Oh, you wrong yourself, my dear Froken," 
 he rnurmured softly, with a sickly attempt at 
 tenderness in his tone. *' You really wrong your- 
 self ! It is impossible, — for me at least, not to be 
 interested in you, — even for our dear Lord's sake. 
 It troubles me to the inmost depths of my sonl 
 to behold in you one of the foolish virgins whose 
 light hath been extinguished for lack of the 
 saving oil, — to see you wandering as a lost sheep 
 in the paths of darkness and error, without a hand 
 to rescue your steps from the near and dreadful 
 precipice ! Ay, truly ! . . . my spirit yearneth 
 for you as a mother for an own babe, — fain would 
 I save you from the devices of the evil one, — fain 
 
 would I " here the minister drew out his 
 
 handkerchief and pressed it lightly to his eyes, — 
 then, as if with an effort overcoming his emotion, 
 he added, with the gravity of a butcher presenting 
 an extortionate bill, ^^ But first, — before my own 
 humble desires for your salvation — first, ere I go 
 further in converse, it behoveth me to enter on 
 the Lord's business ! " 
 
 Thelma bent her head slightly, with an air as 
 though she said : " Indeed ; pray do not be long 
 about it ! " And, leaning back against the porch, 
 she waited somewhat impatiently. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 223 
 
 " The image I have just restored to you," went 
 on Mr. Dyceworthy in his most pompous and 
 ponderous manner, "you say belonged to your 
 unhappy mother —'' 
 
 " She was not unhappy," interposed the girl, 
 calmly. 
 
 " Ay, ay ! " and the minister nodded with a 
 superior air of wisdom. " So you imagine, so 
 you thihk, — you .must have been too young to 
 judge of these things. She died " 
 
 " I saw her die," again she interrupted, 
 with a musing tenderness in her voice. " She 
 smiled and kissed me, — then she laid her thin 
 white hand on this crucifix, and, closing her 
 eyes, she went to sleep. They told me it was 
 death ; since then I have known that death is 
 beautiful ! " 
 
 Mr. Dyceworthy coughed, — a little cough of 
 quiet incredulity. He was not fond of sentiment 
 in any form, and the girl's dreamily pensive 
 manner annoyed him. Death *' beautiful " ? 
 Faugh ! it was the one thing of all others that 
 he dreaded ; it was an unpleasant necessity con- 
 cerning which he thought as little as possible. 
 Though he preached frequently on the peace of 
 the grave and the joys of heaven, — he was far from 
 believing in either, — he was nervously terrified 
 of illness, and fled like a frightened hare from 
 the very rumour of any infectious disorder, and 
 he had never been known to attend a death-bed. 
 
224 THELMA. 
 
 And now, in answer to Tlielraa, he nodded piously 
 and rubbed his hands, and said — 
 
 '' Yes, yes ; no doubt, no doubt ! All very 
 proper on your part, I am sure ! But concerning 
 this same image of which I came to speak, — it is 
 most imperative that you should be brought to 
 recognize it as a purely carnal object, unfitting a 
 maiden's eyes to rest upon. The true followers of 
 tlie Grospel are those who strive to forget the suffer- 
 ings of our dear Lord as much as possible, — or to 
 think of them only in spirit. The minds of 
 sinners, alas ! are easily influenced, — and it is both 
 unseemly and dangerous to gaze freely upon the 
 carven semblance of the Lord's limbs ! Yea, truly, 
 it hath oft been considered as damnatory to the soul, 
 — more especially in the cases of women immured as 
 nuns, who encourage themselves in an undue fami- 
 liarity with our Jjord, by gazing long and earnestly 
 upon his body nailed to the accursed tree." 
 
 Here Mr. Dyceworthy paused for breath. 
 Thelma was silent, but a faint smile gleamed on 
 her face. 
 
 "Wherefore," he went on, "I do adjure you, 
 as you desire grace and redemption, to utterly cast 
 from you the vile trinket, I have, — Heaven knows 
 how reluctantly ! . . . returned to your keeping, — 
 to trample upon it, and renounce it as a device of 
 Satan ..." He stopped, surprised and indignant, 
 as she raised the much-abused emblem to her lips 
 and kissed it reverently. 
 
THE LAXD OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 225 
 
 *' It is tlie sign of peace and salvation," she 
 said steadily ; " to me, at least. You waste your 
 words, Mr. Dyceworthy ; I am a Catliolic." 
 
 " Oh, say not so ! " exclaimed the minister, now 
 thoroughly roused to a pitch of unctuous enthu- 
 siasm. "Say not so. Poor child! who knowest not 
 the meaning of the word used. Catholic signifies 
 universal. God forbid a universal Papacy ! You 
 are not a Catholic — no ! You are a Roman — by 
 which name we understand all that is most loath- 
 some and unpleasing unto Grod ! But I will wrestle 
 for your soul, — yea, night and day will I bend my 
 spiritual sinews to the task, — I will obtain the 
 victory, — I will exorcise the fiend ! Alas, alas ! you 
 are on the brink of hell — think of it ! " and Mr. 
 Dyceworthy stretched out his hand with his 
 favourite pulpit gesture. " Think of the roasting 
 and burning, — the scorching and withering of 
 souls ! Imagine, if you can, the hopeless, bitter, 
 eternal damnation," and here he smacked his lips 
 as thongh he were tasting something excellent, 
 — " from which there is no escape ! . . . for which 
 there shall be no remedy ! " 
 
 " It is a gloomy picture," said Thelma, with a 
 quiet sparkle in her eye. " I am sorry, — for j/ou. 
 But I am happier, — my faith teaches of purgatory 
 — there is always a little hope ! " 
 
 " There is none, there is none ! " exclaimed the 
 minister, rising in excitement from his seat, and 
 swaying ponderously to and fro as he gesticulated 
 
 VOL. I. 15 
 
226 THELMA. 
 
 with hands and head. " You are doomed, — 
 doomed ! There is no middle course between hell 
 and heaven. It must be one thing or the other ; 
 God deals not in half-measures ! Pause, oh 
 pause ! ere you decide to fall ! Even at the latest 
 hour the Lord desires to save your soul, — the 
 Lord yearns for your redemption, and maketh me 
 to yearn also. Froken Thelma ! " and Mr. Dyce- 
 worthy's voice deepened in solemnity, " there is 
 a way which the Lord hath whispered in mine 
 ears, — a way that pointeth to the white robe and 
 the crown of glory, — a way by which you shall 
 jDossess the inner peace of the heart with bliss on 
 earth as the forerunner of bliss in heaven ! " 
 
 She looked at him steadfastly. " And that 
 way is — what ? " she inquired. 
 
 Mr. Dyceworthy hesitated, and wished with all 
 his heart that this girl was not so thoroughly self- 
 possessed. Any sign of timidity in her would 
 have given him an increase of hardihood. But 
 her eyes were coldly brilliant, and glanced him 
 over without the smallest embarrassment. He 
 took refuge in his never-failing remedy, his benevo- 
 lent smile — a smile that covered a multitude of 
 hypocrisies. 
 
 " You ask a plain question, Froken," he said 
 sweetly, " and I should be loth not to give you a 
 plain answer. That way — that glorious way of 
 salvation for you is — through me ! " 
 
 And his countenance shone with smug self- 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 227 
 
 satisfaction as lie spoke, and he repeated softly, 
 " Yes, yes ; that way is through me ! " 
 
 She moved with a slight gesture of impatience. 
 "It is a pity to talk any more," she said rather 
 wearily. " It is all no use ! Why do you wish to 
 change me in my religion ? I do not wish to 
 change you, I do not see why we should speak 
 of such things at all." 
 
 " Of course ! " rejDlied Mr. Dyceworthy blandly. 
 " Of course you do not see. And why ? Because 
 you are blind." Here he drew a little nearer to 
 her, and looked covetously at the curve of her full, 
 firm waist. 
 
 " Oh, why ! " he resumed in a sort of rapture 
 — " why should we say it is a pity to talk any 
 more ? Why should we say it is all no use ? It 
 is of use, — it is noble, it is edifying to converse 
 of the Lord's good pleasure ! And what is His 
 good pleasure at this moment ? To unite two 
 souls in His service ! Yea, He hath turned my 
 desire towards you, Froken Thelma, — even as 
 Jacob's desire was towards Rachel ! Let me see 
 this hand." He made a furtive grab at the white 
 taper fingers that played listlessly with the 
 jessamine leaves on the porch, but the girl dex- 
 terously withdrew them from his clutch and moved 
 a little further back, her face flushing proudly. 
 *' Oh, will it not come to me ? Cruel hand ! " and 
 he rolled his little eyes with an absurdly senti- 
 mental air of reproach. " It is shy — it will not 
 
228 THELMA. 
 
 clasp the hand of its protector ! Do not be afraid, 
 Froken ! . . . I, Charles Dyceworthy, am not 
 the man to trifle with your young affections ! 
 Let them rest where they have flown ! I accept 
 them ! Yea ! ... in spite of wrath and error 
 and moral destitution, —my spirit inclineth to- 
 wards you, — in the language of carnal men, I 
 love you ! More than this, I am willing to take 
 you as my lawful wife " 
 
 He broke off abruptly, somewhat startled at 
 the bitter scorn of the flashing eyes that, like two 
 quivering stars, were blazing upon him. Her voice, 
 clear as a bell ringing in frosty air, cut through 
 the silence like the sweep of a sword-blade. 
 
 " How dare you ! " she said, with a wrathful 
 thrill in her low, intense tones. '' How dare you 
 come here to insult me ! " 
 
 Insult her ! He, — the Reverend Charles Dyce- 
 worthy, — considered guilty of insult in offering 
 honourable marriage to a mere farmer's daughter ! 
 He could not believe his own ears, — and in his 
 astonishment he looked up at her. Looking, he 
 recoiled and shrank into himself, like a convicted 
 knave before some queenly accuser. The whole 
 form of the girl seemed to dilate with indignation. 
 From her proud mouth, arched like a bow, sprang 
 barbed arrows of scorn that flew straightly and 
 struck home. 
 
 " Always I have guessed what you wanted," 
 she went on in that deep, vibrating tone which had 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 229 
 
 sucli a rich quiver of anger within it ; " but I 
 
 never thought you would " She paused, and 
 
 a little disdainful laugh broke from her lips. 
 " You would make me your wife — me ? You 
 think me likely to accept such an offer ? " And 
 she drew herself up with a superb gesture, and 
 regarded him fixedly. 
 
 " Ob, pride, pride ! " murmured the unabashed 
 Dyceworthy, recovering from the momentary 
 abasement into which he had been thrown by her 
 look and manner. " How it overcometh our 
 natures and mastereth our spirits ! My dear, 
 my dearest Froken, — I fear you do not understand 
 me ! Yet it is natural that you should not ; you 
 were not prepared for the offer of my — my affec- 
 tions," — and he beamed all over with benevolence, 
 — " and I can appreciate a maidenly and becoming 
 coyness, even though it assume the form of a repel- 
 lant and unreasonable anger. But take courage, 
 my — my dear girl ! — our Lord forbid that I should 
 wantonly play with the delicate emotions of your 
 heart ! Poor little heart ! does it flutter ? " and 
 Mr. Dyceworthy leered sweetly. " I will give it 
 time to recover itself ! Yes, yes ! a little time ! 
 and then you will put that pretty hand in mine " 
 — here he drew nearer to her, " and with one kiss 
 we will seal the compact ! " 
 
 And he attempted to steal his arm round her 
 waist, but the girl sprang back indignantly, and 
 pulling down a thick branch of the clambering 
 
230 THELMA. 
 
 prickly roses from the porch, held it in front of 
 her by way of protection. Mr. Dyceworthy 
 laughed indulgently. 
 
 " Yery pretty — very pretty indeed ! " he mildly 
 observed, eyeing her as she stood at bay barricaded 
 by the roses. " Quite a picture ! There, there ! 
 do not be frightened, — such shyness is very 
 natural! "We will embrace in the Lord anotlier 
 day ! In the meantime one little word — the word 
 — will suffice me, — yea, even ,one little smile, — to 
 show me that you understand my words, — that 
 you love me " — here he clasped his plump hands 
 together in flabby ecstasy — " even as you are 
 loved ! " 
 
 His absurd attitude, — the weak, knock-kneed 
 manner in which his clumsy legs seemed, from 
 the force of sheer sentiment, to bend under his 
 weighty body, and the inanely amatory expression 
 of his puffy countenance, would have excited most 
 women to laughter, — and Thelma was perfectly 
 conscious of his utterly ridiculous appearance, but 
 she was too thoroughly indignant to take the matter 
 in a humorous light. 
 
 " Love you ! " she exclaimed, with a movement 
 of irrepressible loathing. " You must be mad ! 
 I would rather die than marry you ! " 
 
 Mr. Dyceworthy 's face grew livid and his little 
 eyes sparkled vindictively, — but he restrained 
 his inward rage, and merely smiled, rubbing his 
 hands softly one against the other. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 231 
 
 " Let us be calm ! " he said soothingly. 
 " Whatev^er we do, let us be calm ! Let us not 
 provoke one another to wrath ! Above all things, 
 let us, in a spirit of charity and patience, reason 
 out this matter without undue excitement. My ears 
 have most painfully heard your last words, which, 
 taken literally, might mean that you reject my 
 honourable offer. The question is, do they mean 
 this ? I cannot, — I will not believe that you would 
 foolishly stand in the way of your own salvation," 
 — and he shook his head with doleful gentleness. 
 " Moreover, Froken Thelma, though it sorely dis- 
 tresses me to speak of it, — it is my duty, as a 
 minister of the Lord, to remind you that an honest 
 marriage, — a marriage of virtue and respectability 
 such as I propose, is the only way to restore 
 your reputation, — which, alas ! is sorely damaged, 
 and " 
 
 Mr. Dyceworthy stopped abruptly, a little 
 alarmed, as she suddenly cast aside her barrier of 
 roses and advanced towards him, her blue eyes 
 blazing. 
 
 " My reputation ! " she said haughtily. " Who 
 speaks of it ? " 
 
 " Oh dear, dear me ! " moaned the minister pa- 
 thetically. " Sad ! . . . very sad to see so ungovern- 
 able a temper, — so wild and untrained a disposition ! 
 Alas, alas ! how frail we are without the Lord's 
 support, — without the strong staff of the Lord's 
 mercy to lean upon ! Not I, my poor child, not I, 
 
232 THELMA. 
 
 but the whole village speaks of you ; to you the 
 ignorant people attribute all the sundry evils that 
 of late have fallen sorely upon them, — bad harvests, 
 ill-luck with the fishing, poverty, sickness," — here 
 Mr. Dyceworthy pressed the tips of his fingers 
 delicately together, and looked at her with a 
 benevolent compassion, — '^and they call it witch- 
 craft, — yes ! strange, very strange ! But so it is, — 
 ignorant as they are, such ignorance is not easily 
 enlightened, — and though I," he sighed, " have 
 done my poor best to disabuse their minds of the 
 suspicions against you, I find it is a matter in 
 which I, though a humble mouthpiece of the 
 Gospel, am powerless — quite powerless ! " 
 
 She relaxed her defiant attitude, and moved 
 away from him ; the shadow of a smile was on 
 her lips. 
 
 " It is not my fault if the people are foolish," 
 she said coldly ; " I have never done harm to any 
 one that I know of." And turning abruptly, she 
 seemed about to enter the house, but the minister 
 dexterously placed himself in her way, and barred 
 her passage. 
 
 " Stay, oh stay ! " he exclaimed with unctuous 
 fervour- " Pause, unfortunate girl, ere you reject 
 the strong shield and buckler that the Lord has, 
 in His great mercy, offered you, in my person ! 
 For I must warn you, — Fr5ken Thelma, I must 
 warn you seriously of the danger you run ! I 
 will not pain you by referring to the grave 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 233 
 
 charges brought against your father, who is, alas ! 
 in spite of my spiritual wrestling with the Lord 
 for liis sake, still no better than a heathen savage ; 
 no! I will say nothing of this. But what, — what 
 shall I say," — here he lowered his voice to a tone 
 of mysterious and weighty reproach, — " wliat shall 
 I say of your most unseemly and indiscreet com- 
 panionship with these worldly young men who 
 are visiting the Fjord for their idle pastime ? Ah 
 dear, dear ! This is indeed a heavy scandal and a 
 sore burden to my soul, — for up to this time I have, 
 in spite of many faults in your disposition, con- 
 sidered you were at least of a most maidenly and 
 decorous deportment, — but now — now ! to think 
 that you should, of your own free will and choice, 
 cousent to be the plaything of this idle stroller 
 from the wicked haunts of fashion, — the hour's toy 
 of this Sir Philip Errington ! Froken Thelma, I 
 would never have believed it of you ! " And he 
 drew himself up with ponderous and sorrowful 
 dignity. 
 
 A burning blush had covered Thelma's face at 
 the mention of ErringtoiTs name, but it soon 
 faded, leaving her very pale. She changed her 
 position so that she confronted Mr. Dyceworthy, — 
 her clear blue eyes regarded him steadfastly. 
 
 " Is this what is said of me ? " she asked 
 calmly. 
 
 " It is, — it is, most unfortunately ! " returned 
 the minister, shaking his bullet-like head a great 
 
234 THELMA. 
 
 many times ; tlien, with a sort of elephantine cheer- 
 fulness, he added, " But what matter ? There is 
 time to remedy these things. I am willing to set 
 myself as a strong barrier against the evil noises 
 of rumour ! Am I selfish or ungenerous ? The 
 Lord forbid it ! No matter how / am compromised, 
 no matter how / am misjudged, — I am still willing 
 to take you as my lawful wife, Froken Thelma, 
 — but," and here he shook his forefinger at her 
 with a pretended playfulness, '' I will permit no 
 more converse with Sir Philip Errington ; no, no ! 
 I cannot allow it ! ... I cannot, indeed ! " 
 
 She still looked straight at him, — her bosom 
 rose and fell rapidly with her passionate breath, 
 and there was such an eloquent breadth of scorn 
 in her face that he winced under it as though 
 struck by a sharp scourge. 
 
 " You are not worth my anger ! " she said 
 slowly, this time without a tremor in her rich 
 voice. " One must have something to be angry 
 with, and you — you are nothing ! Neither man 
 nor beast, — for men are brave, and beasts tell 
 no lies ! Your wife ! I ! " and she laughed aloud, 
 — then with a gesture of command, " Gro ! " she 
 exclaimed, " and never let me see your face 
 again ! " 
 
 The clear scornful laughter, — the air of absolute 
 authority with which she spoke, — would have stung 
 the most self-opinionated of men, even though his 
 conscience were enveloped in a moral leather 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 235 
 
 casing of hypocrisy and arrogance. And, not- 
 withstanding his invariable air of mildness, Mr. 
 Dyceworthy had a temper. That temper rose to 
 a white heat just now, — every drop of blood re- 
 ceded from his countenance, — and his soft hands 
 clenched themselves in a particularly ugly and 
 threatening manner. Yet he managed to preserve 
 his suave composure. 
 
 " Alas, alas ! " he murmured. " How sorely 
 my soul is afflicted to see you thus, Froken ! I 
 am amazed — I am distressed ! Such language 
 from your lips ! oh fie, fie ! And has it come to 
 this! And must I resign the hope I had of 
 saving your poor soul ? and must I withdraw my 
 spiritual protection from you ? " This he asked 
 with a suggestive sneer on his prim mouth, — and 
 then continued, " I must — alas, I must ! My con- 
 science will not permit me to do more than pray 
 for you ! And as is my duty, I shall, in a spirit 
 of forbearance and charity, speak warningly to 
 Sir Philip concerning " 
 
 But Thelma did not permit him to finish his 
 sentence. She sprang forward like a young 
 leopardess, and with a magnificent outward sweep 
 of her arm motioned him down the garden path. 
 
 " Out of my sight, — coward I " she cried, and 
 then stood waiting for him to obey her, her whole 
 frame vibrating with indignation like a harp 
 struck too roughly. She looked so terribly 
 beautiful, and there was such a suggestive power 
 
236 THELMA. 
 
 in that extended bare white arm of hers, that the 
 minister, though quaking from head to heel with 
 disappointment and resentment, judged it prudent 
 to leave her. 
 
 " Certainly, I will take my departure, Froken!" 
 he said meekly, while his teeth glimmered 
 wolfishly through his pale lips, in a snarl more 
 than a smile. " It is best you should be alone to 
 recover yourself — from this — this undue excite- 
 ment ! I shall not repeat my — my — offer ; but 
 I am sure your good sense will — in time — show 
 you how very unjust and hasty you have been in 
 this matter — and — and you will be sorry ! Yes, 
 indeed ! 1 am quite sure you will be sorry ! I 
 wish you good day, Froken Thelma ! " 
 
 She made him no reply, and he turned from 
 the house and left her, strolling down the flower- 
 bordered path as though he were in the best of all 
 possible moods with himself and the universe. 
 But, in truth, he muttered a heavy oath under his 
 breath — an oath that was by no means in keeping 
 with his godly and peaceful disposition. Once, as 
 he walked, he looked back, — and saw the woman he 
 coveted now more than ever, standing erect in the 
 porch, tall, fair, and royal in her attitude, looking 
 like some proud empress who had just dismissed 
 an unworthy vassal. A farmer's daughter! and 
 she had refused Mr. Dyceworthy with disdain ! 
 He had much ado to prevent himself shaking his 
 fist at her ! 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 237 
 
 " The lofty shall be laid low, and the stiff- 
 necked shall be humbled," he thought, as with a 
 vicious switch of his stick he struck off a fragrant 
 head of purple clover. " Conceited fool of a girl ! 
 Hopes to be ' my lady ' does she ? She had 
 better take care ! " 
 
 Here he stopped abruptly in his walk as if 
 a thought had struck him, — a malignant joy 
 sparkled in his eyes, and he flourished his stick 
 triumphantly in the air. " I'll have her yet ! " he 
 exclaimed half-aloud. " I'll set Lovisa on her ! " 
 And his countenance cleared ; he quickened his 
 pace like a man having some pressing business 
 to fulfil, and was soon in his boat, rowing towards 
 Bosekop with unaccustomed speed and energy. 
 
 Meanwhile Thelma stood motionless where he 
 had left her, — she watched the retreating form of 
 her portly suitor till he had altogether disappeared, 
 — then she pressed one hand on her bosom, sighed, 
 and laughed a little. Glancing at the crucifix so 
 lately restored to her, she touched it with her lips 
 and fastened it to a small silver chain she wore, 
 and then a shadow swept over her fair face that 
 made it strangely sad and weary. Her lips 
 quivered pathetically; she shaded her eyes with 
 her curved fingers as though the sunlight hurt 
 her, — then with faltering steps she turned away 
 from the warm stretch of garden, brilliant with 
 blossom, and entered the house. There was a 
 sense of outrage and insult upon her, and though 
 
238 THELMA. 
 
 in her soul she treated Mr. Dyceworthy's obser- 
 vations with the contempt they deserved, his 
 coarse allusion to Sir Philip Errington had 
 wounded her more than she cared to admit to 
 herself. Once in the quiet sitting-room, she 
 threw herself on her knees by her father's arm- 
 chair, and laying her proud little golden head 
 down on her folded arms, she broke into a passion 
 of silent tears. 
 
 Who shall unravel the mystery of a woman's 
 weeping ? Who shall declare whether it is a 
 pain or a relief to the overcharged heart ? The 
 dignity of a crowned queen is capable of utterly 
 dissolving and disappearing in a shower of tears, 
 when Love's burning finger touches the pulse 
 and marks its slow or rapid beatings. And 
 Thelma wept as many of her sex weep, without 
 knowing why, save that all suddenly she felt 
 herself most lonely and forlorn like Sainte 
 Beuve's — 
 
 " Colombe gemissante, 
 Qui demande par pi tie 
 
 Sa moitie, 
 Sa moitie loin d'elle absente ! " 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 239 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 *' A wicked will, 
 A woman's will ; a cankered grandame's will ! " 
 
 King John. 
 
 " By Jove ! " 
 
 And Loriraer, after uttering this unmeaning 
 exclamation, was silent out of sheer dismay. 
 He stood hesitating and looking in at the door 
 of the Glildmar's sitting-room, and the alarming 
 spectacle he saw was the queenly Thelma down 
 on the floor in an attitude of grief, — Thelma 
 giving way to little smothered sobs of distress, — 
 Thelma actually crying ! He drew a long breath 
 and stared, utterly bewildered. It was a sight 
 for which he was unprepared, — he was not ac- 
 customed to women's tears. What should he do ? 
 Should he cough gently to attract her attention, 
 or should he retire on tip-toe and leave her to 
 indulge her grief as long as she would, witliout 
 making any attempt to console her ? The latter 
 course seemed almost brutal, yet he was nearly 
 deciding upon it, when a slight creak of the door 
 
240 THELMA. 
 
 against wliich he leaned, caused her to look up 
 suddenly. Seemg him, she rose quickly from her 
 desponding position and faced him, her cheeks 
 somewhat deeply flushed and her eyes glittering 
 feverishly. 
 
 " Mr. Lorimer ! " she exclaimed, forcing a 
 faint smile to her quivering lips. " You here ? 
 Why, where are the others ? " 
 
 '' They are coming on after me," replied Lori- 
 mer, advancing into the room and diplomatically 
 ignoring the girl's efforts to hide the tears that 
 still threatened to have their way. " But I was 
 sent in advance to tell you not to be frightened. 
 There has been a slight accident " 
 
 She grew very pale. '' Is it my father ? " she 
 asked tremblingly. " Sir Philip " 
 
 " No, no ! " answered Lorimer reassuringly. 
 " It is nothing serious, really, upon my honour ! 
 Your father's all right, — so is Phil,— our lively 
 friend Pierre is the victim. The fact is, we've 
 had some trouble with Sigurd. I can't think 
 what has come to the boy ! He was as amiable 
 as possible when we started, but after we had 
 climbed about half-way up the mountain, he took 
 it into his head to throw stones about rather 
 recklessly. It was only fun, he said. Your father 
 tried to make him leave off, but he was obstinate. 
 At last, in a particularly bright access of playful- 
 ness, he got hold of a large flint and nearly put 
 Phil's eye out with it,— Phil dodged it, and it 
 
THE LAND OF TUE MIDNIGHT SUN. 241 
 
 flew straight at Duprez, splitting open his cheek 
 
 in rather an unbecoming fashion Don't look 
 
 so horrified, Miss Gruldmar, — it is really nothing!" 
 
 '' Oh, but indeed it is something ! " she said, 
 with true womanly anxiety in her voice. " Poor 
 fellow ! I am so sorry ! Is he much hurt ? Does 
 he suffer ? " 
 
 " Pierre ? Oh, no, not a bit of it ! He's as 
 jolly as possible ! We bandaged him up in a very 
 artistic fashion ; he looks quite interesting, I 
 assure you. His beauty's spoilt for a time, that's 
 all. Phil thought you might be alarmed when 
 you saw us bringing home the wounded, — that 
 is why I came on to tell you all about it." 
 
 " But what can be the matter with Sigurd ? " 
 asked the girl, raising her hand furtively to dash 
 off a few tear-drops that still hung on her long 
 lashes. " And where is he ? " 
 
 " Ah, that I can't tell you ! " answered Lorimer. 
 " He is perfectly incomprehensible to-day. As 
 soon as he saw the blood flowing from Duprez s 
 cheek, he uttered a howl as if some one had shot 
 him, and away he rushed into the woods as fast 
 as he could go. We called him, and shouted his 
 name till we were hoarse, — all no use ! He 
 wouldn't come back. I suppose he'll find his way 
 home by himself? " 
 
 '' Oh, yes," said Thelma gravely. " But when 
 he comes I will scold him very much ! It is not 
 like him to be so wild and cruel. He will under- 
 
 VOL. I. 16 
 
242 THELMA. 
 
 stand me when I tell him how wrong he has 
 been." 
 
 " Oh, don't break his heart, poor little chap ! " 
 said Lorimer easily. "Your father has given 
 him a terrible scolding already. He hasn't got 
 his wits about him you know, — he can't help 
 being queer sometimes. But what have i/ou been 
 doing with yourself during our absence ? " And 
 he regarded her with friendly scrutiny. " You 
 were crying when I came in. Now, weren't you?" 
 She met his gaze quite frankly. " Yes ! " she 
 replied, with a plaintive thrill in her voice. " I 
 could not help it 1 My heart ached and the tears ' 
 came. Somehow I felt that everything was 
 
 wrong, — and that it was all my fault " 
 
 " Your fault ! " murmured Lorimer, astonished. 
 *'My dear Miss Guldmar, what do you mean? 
 What is your fault ? " 
 
 " Everything ! " she answered sadly, with a 
 deep sigh. " I am very foolish ; and I am sure 
 I often do wrong without meaning it. Mr. Dyce- 
 
 worthy has been here and " she stopped 
 
 abruptly, and a wave of colour flushed her face. 
 
 Lorimer laughed lightly. " Dyceworthy ! " 
 he exclaimed. " The mystery is explained ! You 
 have been bored by ' the good religious,' as Pierre 
 calls him. You know what boring means- now, 
 Miss GrUldmar, don't you ? " She smiled slightly, 
 and nodded. " The first time you visited the 
 Ealalie, you didn't understand the word, I re- 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 243 
 
 member, — ah ! " and he shook his head — " if you 
 were in London society, you'd find that expression 
 very convenient, — it would come to your lips 
 pretty frequently, I can tell you ! " 
 
 " I shall never see London," she said, with a 
 sort of resigned air. " You will all go away very 
 soon, and I — I shall be lonely " 
 
 She bit her lips in quick vexation, as her blue 
 eyes filled again with tears in spite of herself. 
 
 Lorimer turned away and pulled a chair to the 
 open window. 
 
 " Come and sit down here," he said invit- 
 ingly. " We shall be able to see the others 
 coming down the hill. Nothing like fresh air 
 for blowing away the blues." Then, as she obeyed 
 him, he added, " What has Dyce worthy been 
 saying to you ? " ' , 
 
 " He told me I was wicked," she murmured ; 
 ^' and that all the people here think very badly 
 of me. But that was not the worst " — and a little 
 shudder passed over her — '' there was something 
 else — something that made me very angry — so 
 angry ! " — and here she raised her eyes with a 
 gravely penitent air — " Mr. Lorimer, I do not 
 think I have ever had so bad and fierce a temper 
 before ! " 
 
 " Good gracious ! " exclaimed Lorimer, with 
 a broad smile. " You alarm me. Miss Giildmar ! 
 I had no idea you were a ' bad fierce ' person, — 
 I shall get afraid of you — I shall, really ! " 
 
244 THELMA. 
 
 " Ah, you laugh ! " and she spoke half-re- 
 proachfully. " You will not be serious for one 
 little moment ! " 
 
 " Yes, I will ! Now look at me," and he 
 assumed a solemn expression, and drew himself 
 up with an air of dignity. " I am all attention ! 
 Consider me your father-confessor, Miss Guldmar, 
 and explain the reason of this ' bad fierce ' temper 
 of yours." 
 
 She peeped at him shyly from under her silken 
 lashes. 
 
 " It is more dreadful than you think," she 
 answered in a low tone. " Mr. Dyceworthy asked 
 me to marry him." 
 
 Lorimer's keen eyes flashed with indignation. 
 This was beyond a jest, — and he clenched his fist 
 as he exclaimed — 
 
 " Impudent donkey ! What a jolly good thrash- 
 ing he deserves ! . . . and I shouldn't be surprised 
 if he got it one of these days ! And so, Miss 
 Guldmar," — and he studied her face with some 
 solicitude — " you were very angry with him ? " 
 
 " Oh yes ! " she replied, " but when I told him 
 he was a coward, and that he must go away, he 
 
 said some very cruel things " she stopped, and 
 
 blushed deeply then, as if seized by some sudden 
 impulse, she laid her small hand on Lorimer's and 
 said in the tone of an appealing child. " You are 
 very good and kind to me, and you are clever, — you 
 know so much more than I do ! You must help 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 245 
 
 me, — you will tell me, will you not ? ... if it is 
 wrong of me to like you all, — it is as if we had 
 known each other a long time, and I have been 
 very happy with you and your friends. But you 
 must teach me to behave like the girls you have 
 seen in London, — for I could not bear that Sir 
 Philip should think me wicked ! " 
 
 " Wicked ! " and Lorimer drew a long breath. 
 '' Good heavens ! If you knew what Phil's ideas 
 about you are, Miss Guldmar " 
 
 " I do not wish to know," interrupted Thelma 
 steadily^ " You must quite understand me, — I am 
 not clever to hide my thoughts, and — and — , you 
 are glad when you talk sometimes to Sir Philip, 
 are you not ? " He nodded, gravely studying every 
 light and shadow on the fair, upturned, innocent 
 face. 
 
 " Yes ! " she continued with some eagerness, 
 " I see you are ! Well, it is the same thing with 
 me, — I do love to hear him speak ! You know how 
 his voice is like music, and how his kind ways warm 
 the heart, — it is pleasant to be in his company — I 
 am sure you also find it so ! But for me, — it seems 
 it is wrong, — it is not wise for me to show when I 
 am happy. I do not care what other people say, 
 — but I would not have him think ill of me for all 
 the world ! " 
 
 Lorimer took her hand and held it in his with 
 a most tender loyalty and respect. Her naive, 
 simple words had, all unconsciously to herself, 
 
246 THELMA. 
 
 laid bare the secret of her soul to his eyes, — and 
 though his heart beat with a strange sickening 
 sense of unrest that flavoured of despair, a gentle 
 reverence filled him, such as a man might feel 
 if some little snow-white shrine, sacred to purity 
 and peace, should be suddenly unveiled before him. 
 
 " My dear Miss Glildmar," he said earnestly, 
 " I assure you, you have no cause to be uneasy ! 
 You must not believe a word Dyceworthy says, — 
 every one with a grain of common sense, can see 
 what a liar and hypocrite he is ! And as for you, 
 you never do anything wrong, — don't imagine 
 such nonsense ! I wish there were more women 
 like you ! " 
 
 " Ah, that is very kind of you ! " half laughed 
 the girl, still allowing her hand to rest in his. 
 " But I do not think everybody would have such a 
 good opinion." They both started, and their hands 
 fell asunder as a shadow darkened the room, and 
 Sir Philip stood before them. 
 
 " Excuse me ! " he said stiffly, lifting his hat 
 with ceremonious politeness. " I ought to have 
 knocked at the door — I '* 
 
 " Why ? " asked Thelma, raising her eyebrows 
 in surprise. 
 
 " Yes — why indeed ? " echoed Lorimer, with a 
 frank look at his friend. 
 
 " I am afraid," — and for once the generally 
 good-humoured Errington looked positively petu- 
 lant — " I am afraid I interrupted a pleasant con- 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 247 
 
 v-ersatlon ! " And he gave a little forced laugh of 
 feigned amusement, but evident vexation. 
 
 " And if it was pleasant, shall you not make it 
 still more so ? " asked Thelma, with timid and 
 bewitching sweetness, though her heart beat very- 
 fast, — she was anxious. Why was Sir Philip so 
 cold and distant ? He looked at her, and his 
 pent-up passion leaped to his eyes and filled them 
 with a glowing and fiery tenderness, — her head 
 drooped suddenly, and she turned quickly, to avoid 
 that searching, longing gaze. Lorimer glanced 
 from one to the other with a slight feeling of 
 amusement. 
 
 " Well Phil," he inquired lazily, " how did you 
 get here so soon ? " You must have glided into 
 the garden like a ghost, for I never heard you 
 coming." 
 
 " So I imagine ! " retorted Errington, with an 
 effort to be sarcastic, in which he utterly failed 
 as he met his friend's eyes, — then after a slight and 
 somewhat embarrassed pause lie added more mildly ! 
 " Duprez cannot get on very fast, — his wound still 
 bleeds, and he feels rather faint now and then. I 
 don't think we bandaged him up properly, and I 
 came on to see if Britta could prepare something 
 for him." 
 
 " But you will not need to ask Britta," said 
 Thelma quietly, with a pretty air of authority, 
 " for I shall myself do all for Mr. Duprez. I 
 understand well how to cure his wound, and I do 
 
248 THELMA. 
 
 think he will like me as well as Britta." And, 
 hearing footsteps approaching, she looked out at 
 the window. '*' Here they come ! " she exclaimed. 
 " Ah, poor Monsieur Pierre ! he does look very 
 pale ! I will go and meet them," 
 
 And she hurried from the room, leaving the 
 two young men together. Errington threw him- 
 self into Olaf Gtildmar's great arm-chair, with a 
 slight sigh. 
 
 " Well ? " said Lorimer inquiringly. 
 
 " Well ! " he returned somewhat gruffly. 
 
 Lorimer laughed, and crossing the room, ap- 
 proached him and clapped a hand on his shoulder. 
 
 '' Look here, old man ! " he said earnestly, 
 " don't be a fool ! I know that ' love maketh men 
 mad,' but I never supposed the lunacy would 
 lead you to the undesirable point of distrusting 
 your friend, — your true friend, Phil, — by ail the 
 gods of the past and present ! " 
 
 And he laughed again, — a little huskily this 
 time, for there was a sudden unaccountable and 
 unwished-for lump in his throat, and a moisture in 
 his eyes which he had not bargained for. Philip 
 looked up, — and silently held out his hand, which 
 Lorimer as silently clasped. There was a moment's 
 hesitation, and then the young baronet spoke out 
 manfully. 
 
 " I'm ashamed of myself, George ! I really am ! 
 But I tell you, when I came in and saw you two 
 standing there, — you've no idea what a picture you 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUX. 249 
 
 made ! ... by Jove ! . . . I was furious ! " And he 
 smiled. " I suppose I was jealous ! " 
 
 " I suppose you were ! " returned Lorimer 
 amusedly. " Novel sensation, isn't it ? A sort 
 of hot, prickly, *have-at-thee-villain' sort of thing; 
 must be frightfully exhausting ! But why you 
 should indulge this emotion at niT/ expense is what 
 I cannot, for the life of me, understand ! " 
 
 " Well," murmured Errington, rather abashed, 
 " you see, her hands were in yours " 
 
 " As they will be again, and yet again, I 
 trust ! " said Lorimer with cheery fervour. 
 " Surely you'll allow me to shake hands with your 
 wife ? " 
 
 " I say, George, be quiet ! " exclaimed Philip 
 warningly, as at that moment Thelma passed the 
 window with Pierre Duprez leaning on her arm, 
 and her father and Macfarlane following. 
 
 She entered the room with the stately step of 
 a young queen, — her tall, beautiful figure forming 
 a strong contrast to that of the narrow-shouldered 
 little Frenchman, upon whom she smiled down 
 with an air of almost maternal protection. 
 
 ** You will sit here. Monsieur Duprez," she 
 said, leading him to the hondes arm-chair which 
 Errington instantly vacated, " and father will 
 bring you a good glass of wine. And the pain 
 will be nothing when I have attended to that 
 cruel wound. But I am so sorry, — so very sorry, 
 to see you suffer ! " 
 
250 THELMA. 
 
 Pierre did indeed present rather a dismal 
 spectacle. There was a severe cut on his forehead 
 as well as his cheek ; his face was pale and 
 streaked with blood, while the hastily-improvised 
 bandages which were tied under his chin, by no 
 means improved his personal appearance. His 
 head ached with the pain, and his eyes smarted 
 with the strong sunlight to which he had been 
 exposed all the day, but his natural gaiety was 
 undiminished, and he laughed as he answered — 
 
 " Chere Mademoiselle., you are too good to me ! 
 It is a piece of good fortune that Sigurd threw 
 that stone — yes! since it brings me your pity! 
 But do not trouble ; a little cold water and a fresh 
 handkerchief is all I need." 
 
 But Thelma was already practising her own 
 simple surgery for his benefit. With deft, soft 
 fingers she laid bare the throbbing wound, — 
 washed and dressed it carefully and skilfully, — 
 and used withal such exceeding gentleness, that 
 Duprez closed his eyes in a sort of rapture during 
 the operation, and wished it could last longer. 
 Then taking the glass of wine her father brought 
 in obedience to her order, she said in a tone of 
 mild authority — 
 
 '' Now, you will drink this Monsieur Pierre, 
 and you will rest quite still till it is time to go 
 back to the yacht ; and to-morrow you ,will not 
 feel any pain, I am sure. And I do think it will 
 not be an ugly scar for long." 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 251 
 
 *'If it is," answered Pierre, "I shall say I 
 received it in a duel ! Then I shall be great — 
 glorious ! and all the pretty ladies will love me ! " 
 
 She laughed, — but looked grave a moment 
 afterwards. 
 
 " You must never say what is not true," she 
 said. " It is wrong to deceive any one, — even in 
 a small matter." 
 
 Duprez gazed up at her wonderingly, feeling 
 very much like a chidden child. 
 
 " Never say what is not true ! " he thought. 
 ** Mon Dieu ! what would become of my life ? " 
 
 It was a new suggestion, and he reflected upon 
 it with astonishment. It opened such a wide vista 
 of impossibilities to his mind. 
 
 Meanwhile old Guldmar was engaged in pour- 
 ing out wine for the other young men, talking all 
 the time. 
 
 " I tell thee, Thelma mine," he said seriously, 
 '' something must be very wrong with our Sigurd. 
 The poor lad has always been gentle and tractable, 
 but to-day he was like some wild animal for 
 mischief and hardihood. I grieve to see it! I 
 fear the time may come when he may no longer 
 be a safe servant for thee, child." 
 
 " Oh, father ! " — and the girl's voice was full 
 of tender anxiety — " surely not ! He is too fond 
 of us to do us any harm — he is so docile and 
 affectionate ! " 
 
 " Maybe, maybe ! " and the old farmer shook 
 
252 THELMA. 
 
 his head doubtfully. *' But when the wits are 
 away the brain is like a ship without ballast — 
 there is no safe sailing possible. He would not 
 mean any harm, perhaps, — and yet in his wild 
 moods he might do it, and be sorry for it directly 
 afterwards. 'Tis little use to cry when the mis- 
 chief is done, — and I confess I do not like his 
 present humour." 
 
 " By-the-by," observed Lorimer, " that re- 
 minds me ! Sigurd has taken an uncommonly 
 strong aversion to Phil. It's curious, but it's a 
 fact. Perhaps it is that which upsets his nerves?" 
 
 " I have noticed it myself," said Errington, 
 *' and I'm sorry for it, for I've done him no harm 
 that I can remember. He certainly asked me to 
 go away from the Altenfjord, and I refused, — 
 I'd no idea he had any serious meaning in his 
 request. But it's evident he can't endure my 
 company." 
 
 " Ah, then ! " said Thelma simply and sorrow- 
 fully, " he must be very ill, — because it is natural 
 for every one to like you." 
 
 She spoke in perfect good faith and innocence 
 of heart ; but Errington's eyes flashed and he 
 smiled — one of those rare, tender smiles of his 
 which brightened his whole visage. 
 
 " You are very kind to say so, Miss Guld- 
 
 mar ! 
 
 " It is not kindness ; it is the truth ! " she 
 replied frankly. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 253 
 
 At that moment a very rosy face and two 
 sparkling eyes peered inquiringly in at the door. 
 
 " Yes, Britta ! " Thelma smiled ; '' we are quite 
 ready I " 
 
 Whereupon the face disappeared, and Olaf 
 Giildmar led the way into the kitchen, which was 
 at the same time the dining-room, and where a 
 substantial supper was spread on the polished 
 pine table. The farmer's great arm-chair was 
 brought in for Duprez, who, though he declared 
 he was being spoilt by too much attention, seemed 
 to enjoy it immensely, — and they were all, in- 
 cluding Britta, soon clustered round the hospitable 
 board whereon antique silver and quaint glasses 
 of foreign make sparkled bravely, their effect 
 enhanced by the snowy whiteness of the home- 
 spun table-linen. 
 
 A few minutes set them all talking gaily. 
 Macfarlane vied with the ever-gallant Duprez in 
 making a few compliments to Britta, who was 
 23retty and engaging enough to merit attention, 
 and who, after all, was something more than a 
 mere servant, possessing, as she did, a great deal 
 of her young mistress's affection and confidence, 
 and being always treated by Giildmar himself as 
 one of the family. There was no reserve or cold- 
 ness in the party, and the hum of their merry 
 voices echoed up to the cross-rafters of the stout 
 wooden ceiling and through the open door and 
 window, from whence a patch of the gorgeous 
 
251 THELMA. 
 
 afternoon sky could be seen, glimmering redly, 
 like a distant lake of fire. They were in the full 
 enjoyment of their repast, and the old farmer's 
 rollicking " Ha, ha, ha ! " in response to a joke of 
 Lorimer's, had just echoed jovially through the 
 room, when a strong, harsh voice called aloud — 
 
 " Olaf Guldmar ! " 
 
 There was a sudden silence. Each one looked 
 at the other in surprise. Again the voice called — 
 
 " Olaf Guldmar ! " 
 
 "Well!" roared the ho7ide testily, turning 
 sharply round in his chair " Who calls me ? " 
 
 "I do ! " and the tall, emaciated figure of a 
 woman advanced and stood on the threshold, 
 without actually entering the room. She dropped 
 the black shawl that enveloped her, and, in so 
 doing, disordered her hair, which fell in white, 
 straggling locks about her withered features, and 
 her dark eyes gleamed maliciously as she fixed 
 them on the assembled party. Britta, on per- 
 ceiving her, uttered a faint shriek, and without 
 considering the propriety of her action, buried her 
 nut-brown curls and sparkling eyes in Duprez's 
 coat-sleeve, which, to do the Frenchman justice, 
 was exceedingly prompt to receive and shelter its 
 fair burden. The bonde rose from his chair, and 
 his face grew stern. 
 
 " What do you here, Lovisa Elsland ? Have 
 you walked thus far from Talvig to pay a visit 
 that must needs be unwelcome ? " 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 255 
 
 "Unwelcome I know I am," replied Lovisa, 
 disdainfully noting the terror of Britta and the 
 astonished glances of Errington and his friends — 
 '* Unwelcome at all times, — but most unwelcome at 
 the hour of feasting and folly, —for who can endure 
 to receive a message from the Lord when the 
 mouth is full of savoury morsels and the brain 
 reels with the wicked wine ? Yet I have come in 
 spite of your iniquities Olaf Giildmar, — strong 
 in the strength of the Lord, I dare to set foot 
 upon your accursed threshold, and once more 
 make my just demand. Give me back the child 
 of my dead daughter ! . . . restore to me the erring 
 creature who should be the prop of my de- 
 fenceless age, had not your pagan spells alien- 
 ated her from me, — release her, — and bid her 
 return with me to my desolate hearth and home. 
 This done, — I will stay the tempest that threatens 
 your habitation — I will hold back the dark cloud 
 of destruction — I will avert the wrath of the 
 Lord, — yes ! for the sake of the past — for the 
 sake of the past ! " 
 
 These last words she muttered in a low tone, 
 more to herself than to Guldmar ; and, having 
 spoken, she averted her eyes from the company, 
 drew her shawl closely about her, and waited for 
 an answer. 
 
 " By all the gods of my fathers ! " shouted the 
 bonde in a towering passion. " This passes my 
 •utmost endurance ! Have I not told thee again 
 
256 „ THELMA. 
 
 and again, thou silly soul! . . . that thy grandchild 
 is no slave ? She is free — free to return to thee an' 
 she will ; free also to stay with us, where she has 
 found a happier home than thy miserable hut at 
 Talvig. Britta ! " aud he thumped his fist on the 
 table. ''Look up, child! Speak for thyself! 
 Thou hast a spirit of thine own. Here is thy one 
 earthly relation. Wilt go with her ? Neither 
 thy mistress nor I will stand in the way of thy 
 pleasure." 
 
 Thus adjured Britta looked up so suddenly 
 that Duprez, — who had rather enjoyed the feel of 
 her little nestling head hidden upon his arm, — was 
 quite startled, and he was still more so at the 
 utter defiance that flashed into the small maiden's 
 round, rosy face. 
 
 " Go with you ! " she cried shrilly, addressing 
 the old woman, who remained standing in the 
 same attitude, with an air of perfect composure. 
 " Do you think I have forgotten how you treated 
 my mother, or how you used to beat me and 
 starve me ? You wicked old woman ! How dare 
 vou come here ? I'm ashamed of you ! You 
 frightened my mother to death — you know you 
 did ! . . . and now you want to do the same to me ! 
 But you won't, — 1 can tell you ! I'm old enough to 
 do as I like, and I'd rather die than live with you ! " 
 
 Then, overcome by excitement and temper, she 
 burst out crying, heedless of Pierre Duprez's 
 smiling nods of approval and the admiring re- 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 257 
 
 marks lie was making under his breath, such as — 
 " Brava, ma petite ! C'est hien fait ! cest jollment 
 bien dit I Mais je crois hien I " 
 
 Lovisa seemed unmoved ; she raised her head 
 and looked at Gilldmar. 
 
 " Is this your answer ? " she demanded. 
 
 " By the sword of Odin ! " cried the bonde, 
 " the woman must be mad ! M(/ answer ? The 
 girl has spoken for herself, — and plainly enough 
 too ! Art thou deaf, Lovisa Elsland ? or are thy 
 wits astray ? " 
 
 " My hearing is very good," replied Lovisa 
 calmly, " and my mind, Olaf Guldmar, is as clear 
 as yours. And, thanks to your teaching in mine 
 early days," — she paused and looked keenly at 
 him, but he appeared to see no meaning in her 
 allusion, — " I know the English tongue, of which 
 we hear far too much, — too often ! There is nothing 
 Britta has said that I do not understand. But I 
 know well it is not the girl herself that speaks — 
 it is a demon in her, — and that demon shall be 
 cast forth before I die ! Yea, with the help of 
 
 the Lord I shall " She stopped abruptly and 
 
 fixed her eyes, glowing with fierce wrath, on 
 Thelma. The girl met her evil glance with a 
 gentle surprise. Lovisa smiled malignantly. 
 
 " You know me, I think !" said Lovisa. " You 
 have seen me before ? " 
 
 " Often," answered Thelma mildly. " I have 
 always been sorry for you." 
 
 VOL. I. 17 
 
258 THELMA. 
 
 " Sorry for me ! " almost yelled the old woman. 
 " Why — why are you sorry for me ? " 
 
 " Do not answer her, child ! " interrupted 
 Guldmar angrily. '' She is mad as the winds of 
 a wild winter, and will but vex thee." 
 
 But Thelma laid her hand soothingly on her 
 father's, and smiled peacefully as she turned her 
 fair face again towards Lovisa. 
 
 " Why ? " she said. " Because you seem so 
 very lonely and sad — and that must make you 
 cross with every one who is happy ! And it is 
 a pity, I think, that you do not let Britta alone — 
 you only quarrel with each other when you meet. 
 And would you not like her to think kindly of 
 you when you are dead ? " 
 
 Lovisa seemed choking with anger, — her face 
 worked into such hideous grimaces, that all present, 
 save Thelma, were dismayed at her repulsive aspect. 
 
 " When I am dead ! " she muttered hoarsely. 
 "So you count upon that already, do you? Ah! 
 . . . but do you know which of us shall die first ! " 
 Then raising her voice with an effort she ex- 
 claimed — 
 
 " Stand forth, Thelma Griildmar ! Let me see 
 you closely — face to face ! " 
 
 Errington said something in a low tone, and 
 the bonde would have again interfered, but Thelma 
 shook her head, smiled and rose from her seat at 
 table. 
 
 " Anything to soothe her, poor soul ! " she 
 
THE LAXD OF THE MIDNFGHT SUN". 259 
 
 whispered, as she left Errington's side and ad- 
 vanced towards Lovisa till she was within reach 
 of the old woman's hand. She looked like some 
 grand white angel who had stepped down from a 
 cathedral altar, as she stood erect and stately with 
 a gravely pitying expression in her lovely eyes, 
 confronting the sable-draped, withered, leering hag 
 who fixed upon her a steady look of the most cruel 
 and pitiless hatred. 
 
 " Daughter of Satan ! " said Lovisa then, in 
 intense piercing tones that somehow carried with 
 them a sense of awe and horror. " Creature, in 
 whose veins the fire of hell burns without ceasing, 
 — my curse upon you ! My curse upon the beauty 
 of your body — may it grow loathsome in the sight 
 of all men ! May those who embrace you, em- 
 brace misfortune and ruin ! — may love betray you 
 and forsake you ! May your heart be broken even 
 as mine has been ! — may your bridal bed be left 
 deserted ! — may your children wither and pine from 
 their hour of birth ! Sorrow track you to the 
 grave ! — may your death be lingering and horrible ! 
 God be my witness and fulfil my words ! " 
 
 And, raising her arms with wild gesture, she 
 turned and left the house. The spell of stupefied 
 silence was broken with her disappearance. Old 
 Giildmar prepared to rush after her and force her 
 to retract her evil speech, — Errington was furious, 
 and Britta cried bitterly. The lazy Lorimer was 
 excited and annoyed. 
 
260 THELMA. 
 
 '' Fetch her back," he said, " and I'll dance 
 ii]3on her ! " 
 
 But Thelma stood where the old woman had 
 left her — she smiled faintly, but she was very 
 pale. Errington approached her, — she turned to 
 him and stretched out her hands with a little 
 appealing gesture. 
 
 " My friend," she said softly, " do you think I 
 deserve so many curses ? Is there something 
 about me that is evil ? 
 
 What Errington would have answered is 
 doubtful, — his heart beat wildly, — he longed to 
 draw those little hands in his own, and cover 
 them with passionate kisses, — but he was inter- 
 cepted by old Griildmar, who caught his daughter 
 in his arms and hugged her closely, his silvery 
 beard mingling with the gold of her rippling 
 hair. 
 
 " Never fear a wicked tongue, my bird ! " said 
 the old man fondly. " There is naught of harm 
 that would touch thee either on earth or in 
 heaven, — and a foul-mouthed curse must roll off 
 thy soul like water from a dove's wing ! Cheer 
 thee, my darling — cheer thee ! What ! Thine 
 own creed teaches thee that the gentle Mother of 
 Christ, with her little white angels round her, 
 watches over all innocent maids,- — and thinkest 
 thou she will let an old w^oman's malice and envy 
 blight thy young days ? No, no ! Thou ac- 
 cursed ? " And the boiide laughed loudly to hide 
 
THE LAXD OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 2CA 
 
 the tears that moistened his keen eyes. " Thou 
 art the sweetest blessing of my heart, even as thy 
 mother was before thee ! Come, come ! Raise 
 thy pretty head — here are these merry lads grow- 
 ing long-faced, — and Brittais weeping enough salt 
 water to fill a bucket ! One of thy smiles will set 
 us all right again, — ay, there now ! " — as she 
 looked up and, meeting Philip's eloquent eyes, 
 blushed, and withdrew herself gently from her 
 father's arms, — "Let us finish our supper and 
 think no more of yonder villainous old hao-. — she 
 is crazy, I believe, and knows not what she says 
 half her time. Now, Britta, cease thy grunting 
 and sighing — 'twill spoil thy face and will not 
 mend the hole in thy grandmother's brain ! " 
 
 " Wicked, spiteful, ugly old thing ! " sobbed 
 Britta ; " I'll never, never, never forgive her ! " 
 Then, running to Thelma, she caught her hand 
 and kissed it affectionately. " Oh, my dear, my 
 dear ! To think she should have cursed you, 
 what dreadful, dreadful wickedness ! Oh ! " and 
 Britta looked volumes of wrath. '' I could have 
 beaten her black and blue ! " 
 
 Her vicious eagerness was almost comic — 
 every one laughed, including Thelma, though she 
 pressed the hand of her little servant very warmly. 
 
 '' Oh fie ! " said Lorimer seriously. " Little 
 girls mustn't whip their grandmothers ; it's s|)e- 
 cially forbidden in the Prayer-book, isn't it, 
 Phil?" 
 
262 THELMA. 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know ! " replied Errington 
 merrily. " I believe there is something to the 
 effect that a man may not marry his grandmother 
 — perhaps that is what you mean ? " 
 
 " Ah, no doubt ! " murmured Lorimer lan- 
 guidly, as, with the others, he resumed his seat at 
 the supper-table. " I knew there was a special 
 mandate respecting one's particularly venerable 
 relations with a view to self-guidance in case they 
 should prove troublesome like Britta's good grand- 
 mamma. What a frightfully picturesque mouth- 
 ing old lady she is ! " 
 
 " She is la ijetroleuse of Norway ! " exclaimed 
 Duprez. " She would make an admirable dancer 
 in the Carmagnole ! " 
 
 Macfarlane, who had preserved a discreet 
 silence throughout the whole scene, here looked up. 
 
 " She's just a screech-owl o' mistaken piety," 
 he said. " She minds me o' a glowerin' auld war- 
 lock of an aunt o' mine in Grlasgie, wha sits in 
 her chair a' day wi' ae finger on the Bible. She 
 says she's gaun straight to heaven by special 
 invitation o' the Lord, leavin' a' her blood rela- 
 tions howlin' vainly after her from their roastin' 
 fires down below. Ma certes ! she'll give ye a 
 good rousin' curse if ye like ! She's cursed me 
 ever since I can remember her, — cursed me in and 
 out from sunrise to sunset, — but I'm no the worse 
 for 't as yet, — an' it's dootful whether she's any the 
 better." 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 2G3 
 
 '' And yet Lovisa Elsland used to be as mevrj 
 and lissom a lass as ever stepped," said Glildmar 
 musingly. " I remember her well when both she 
 and I were young. I was always on the sea at 
 that time, — never happy unless the waves tossed 
 me and my vessel from one shore to another. I 
 suppose the restless spirit of my fathers was in 
 me. I was never contented unless I saw some new 
 coast every six months or so. Well ! . . . Lovisa 
 was always foremost among the girls of the village 
 who watched me leave the Fjord, — and however 
 long or short a time I might be absent, she was 
 certain to be on the shore when my ship came 
 sailing home again. Many a joke I have cracked 
 with her and her companions — and she was a 
 bonnie enough creature to look at then, I tell you, 
 — though now she is like a battered figure-head on 
 a wreck. Her marriage spoilt her temper, — her 
 husband was as dark and sour a man as could be 
 met with in all Norway, and when he and his 
 fishing-boat sank in' a squall off the Lofoden 
 Islands, I doubt if she shed many tears for his 
 loss. Her only daughter's husband went down 
 in the same storm, — and he but three months 
 wedded, — and the girl, — Britta's mother, — pined 
 and pined, and even when her child was born took 
 no sort of comfort in it. She died four years after 
 Britta's birth — her death was hastened, so I have 
 heard, through old Lovisa's harsh treatment, — 
 anyhow the little lass she left behind her had no 
 
264 THELMA. 
 
 very easy time of it all alone with her grand- 
 mother, — eh Britta ? " 
 
 Britta looked up and shook her head em- 
 phatically. 
 
 " Then," went on Cxiildmar, " when my girl 
 came back the last time from France, Britta 
 chanced to see her, and, strangely enough," — here 
 he winked shrewdly — " took a fancy to her face, 
 — odd, wasn't it ? However, nothing would suit 
 her but that she must be Thelma's handmaiden, 
 and here she is. Now you know her history, — 
 she would be happy enough if her grandmother 
 would let her alone ; but the silly old woman 
 thinks the girl is under a spell, and that Thelma 
 is the witch that works it ; " — and the old farmer 
 laughed. " There's a grain of truth in the notion 
 too, — but not in the way she has of looking at 
 it. 
 
 " All women are witches ! " said Duprez. 
 " Britta is a little witch herself ! " 
 
 Britta's rosy cheeks grew rosier at this, and 
 she tossed her chestnut curls with an air of saucy 
 defiance that delighted the Frenchman. He forgot 
 his wounded cheek and his disfiguring bandages 
 in the contemplation of the little plump figure 
 cased in its close-fitting scarlet bodice, and the 
 tempting rosy lips that were in such close proxi- 
 mity to his touch. 
 
 ''If it were not for those red hands ! " he 
 thought. " Dleu I what a charming child she 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 2G5 
 
 would be ! One would instantly kill the grand- 
 mother and kiss the granddaughter ! " 
 
 And he watched her with admiration as she 
 busied herself about the supper-table, attending to 
 every one with diligence and care, but reserving 
 her special services for Thelma, whom she waited 
 on with a mingled tenderness and reverence that 
 were both touching and pretty to see. 
 
 The conversation now became general, and 
 nothing further occurred to disturb the harmony 
 and hilarity of the party — only Errington seemed 
 somewhat abstracted, and answered many ques- 
 tions that were put to him at hap-hazard, without 
 knowing, or possibly caring, whether his replies 
 were intelligible or incoherent. His thoughts 
 were dreaniHke and brilliant with fairy sunshine. 
 He understood at last what poets meant by their 
 melodious musings, woven into golden threads of 
 song — he seemed to have grasped some hitherto 
 unguessed secret of his being — a secret that filled 
 him with as much strange pain as pleasure. He 
 felt as though he were endowed with a thousand 
 senses, — each one keenly alive and sensitive to the 
 smallest touch, — and there was a pulsation in his 
 blood that was new and beyond bis control, — a 
 something that beat wildly in his heart at the 
 sound of Thelma's voice or the passing flutter of 
 her white garments near him. Of what use to 
 disguise it from himself any longer? Pie loved 
 her! The terrible, beautiful tempest of love had 
 
206 THELMA. 
 
 broken over his life at last ; there was no escape 
 from its thunderous passion and dazzling light- 
 ning glory. 
 
 He drew a sharp quick breath — the hum of 
 the gay voices around him was more meaning- 
 less to his ears than the sound of the sea break- 
 ing on the beach below. He glanced at the 
 girl — the fair and innocent creature who had, in 
 his imagination, risen to a throne of imperial 
 height from whence she could bestow on him death 
 or salvation. How calm she seemed ! She was 
 listening with courteous patience to a long story 
 of Macfarlane's, whose Scotch accent rendered it 
 difficult for her to understand. She was pale, 
 Philip thought, and her eyes were heavy ; but she 
 smiled now and then, — such a smile ! Even so 
 sweetly might the " kiss-worthy " lips of the 
 Greek Aphrodite part, could that eloquent and 
 matchless marble for once breathe into life. He 
 looked at her with a sort of fear. Her hands 
 held his fate. What if she could not love him ? 
 "What if he mast lose her utterly ? This idea 
 overpowered him ; his brain whirled, and he 
 suddenly pushed away his untasted glass of wine, 
 and rose abruptly from the table, heedless of the 
 surprise his action excited. 
 
 " Hullo, Phil, where are you off too ? " cried 
 Lorimer. " Wait for me ! " 
 
 " Tired of our company, my lad ? " said 
 Guldmar kindly. "You've had a long day of 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 267 
 
 it, — and what with the climbing and the strong 
 air, no doubt you'll be glad to turn in." 
 
 " Upon my life, sir," answered Errington, with 
 some confusion, '' I don't know why I got up just 
 now ! I was thinking, — I'm rather a dreamy sort 
 of fellow sometimes, and " 
 
 " He was asleep, and doesn't want to own it ! " 
 interrupted Lorimer sententiously. " You will 
 excuse him ; he means well ! He looks rather 
 seedy. I think, Mr. Griildmar, we'll be off to the 
 yacht. By the w^ay, you're coming with us 
 to-morrow, aren't you ? " 
 
 " Oh yes," said Thelma. " We will sail with 
 you round by Soroe, — it is weird and dark and 
 grand ; but I think it is beautiful. And there 
 are many stories of the elves and berg-folk, who 
 are said to dwell there among the deep ravines. 
 Have you heard about the berg-folk ? " she con- 
 tinued, addressing herself to Errington, unaware 
 of the effort he was making to appear cool and 
 composed in her presence. " No ? Then I must 
 tell you to-morrow." 
 
 They all walked out of the house into the 
 porch, and while her father was interchanging 
 farewells with the others, she looked at Sir 
 Philip's grave face with some solicitude. 
 
 " I am afraid you are very tired, my friend ? " 
 she asked softly, " or your head aches, — and you 
 suffer ? " 
 
 He caught her hands swiftly and raised them 
 to his lips. 
 
2G8 THELMA. 
 
 " Would you care much. — would you care at 
 all, if I suffered ? " he murmured in a low tone. 
 
 Then before she could speak or move, he let go 
 her hands again, and turned with his usual easy 
 courtesy to Giildmar. '' Then we may exyject you 
 without fail to-morrow, sir ! Good night ! " 
 
 " Good night, my lad ! " 
 
 And with many hearty salutations the young 
 men took their departure, raising their hats to 
 Thelma as they turned down the winding path to 
 the shore. She remained standing near her 
 father, — and, when the sound of their footsteps 
 had died away, she drew closer still and laid 
 her head against his breast. 
 
 " Cold, my bird ? " queried the old man. 
 " Why, thou art shivering, child ! — and yet the 
 sunshine is as warm as wine. What ails thee ? " 
 
 '' Nothing, father ! " And she raised her eyes, 
 glowing and brilliant as stars. " Tell me, — do 
 you think ol'ten of my mother now ? " 
 
 " Often ! " And Guldmar's fine resolute face 
 grew sad and tender. " She is never absent from 
 my mind! I see her night and day, ay! I can 
 feel her soft arms clinging round my neck, — wliy 
 dost thou ask so strange a question, little one ? 
 Is it possible to forget what has been once loved ? " 
 
 Thelma was silent for many minutes. Then 
 she kissed her father and said '^ good night." He 
 held her by the hand and looked at her with a 
 sort of vague anxiety. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 269 
 
 " Art thou well, my child ? " he asked. " Thi^ 
 little hand hums like fire, — and thine eyes are too 
 hright, surely, for sleep to visit them ? Art sure 
 that nothing ails thee ? " 
 
 . " Sure, quite sure," answered the girl with a 
 strange dreamy smile. " I am quite well, — and 
 happy ! " 
 
 And she turned to enter the house. 
 
 " Stay ! " called the father. " Promise me thou 
 wilt think no more of Lovisa ! " 
 
 " I had nearly forgotten her," she responded. 
 " Poor thing ! She cursed me because she is so 
 miserable, I suppose, — all alone and unloved ; it 
 must be hard ! Curses sometimes turn to blessings, 
 father ! Good night ! " 
 
 And she ascended the one flight of wooden 
 stairs in the house to her own bedroom — a little 
 three-cornered place as clean and white as the 
 interior of a shell. Never once glancing at the 
 small mirror that seemed to invite her charms to 
 reflect themselves tlierein, she went to tlie quaint 
 latticed window and knelt down by it, folding her 
 arms on the sill while she looked far out to the 
 Fjord. She could see the English flag fluttering 
 from the masts of the Eulalie ; she could almost 
 hear the steady plash of the oars wielded by 
 Errington and his friends as they rowed themselves 
 back to the yacht. Bright tears filled her eyes, 
 and brimmed over, falling warmly on her folded 
 hands. » 
 
270 THELMA. 
 
 " Would I care if you suffered ? " she whispered. 
 " Oh, my love ! . . . my love ! " 
 
 Then, as if afraid lest the very winds should 
 have heard her half-breathed exclamation, she shut 
 her window in haste, and a hot blush crimsoned 
 her cheeks. 
 
 Undressing quickly, she slipped into her 
 little white bed and, closing her eyes, fancied 
 she slept, though her sleep was but a waking 
 dream of love in which all bright hopes reached 
 their utmost fulfilment, and yet were in some 
 strange way crossed with shadows which she had 
 no power to disperse. And later on, when old 
 Giildmar slumbered soundly, and the golden mid- 
 night sunshine lit up every nook and gable of the 
 farmhouse with its lustrous glory, — making Thel- 
 ma's closed lattice sparkle like a carven jewel, — a 
 desolate figure lay prone on the grass beneath her 
 window, with meagre pale face, and wide-open 
 wild blue eyes upturned to the fiery brilliancy of 
 the heavens. Sigurd had come home ; — Sigurd 
 was repentant, sorrowful, ashamed, — and broken- 
 hearted. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 271 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " Love ! Love ! Gateway of Delight ! 
 
 Thou porch of peace, thou pageant of the prime 
 Of all God's creatures ! I am here to climb 
 
 Thine upward steps, and daily and by night 
 To gaze beyonil them and to search aright 
 The far-off splendour of thy track sublime." 
 
 Eric Mackay's Love-letters of a Violinist. 
 
 On the following morning the heat was intense, — 
 no breath of wind stirred a ripple on the Fjord, 
 and there was a heaviness in the atmosphere 
 which made the very brightness of the sky oppres- 
 sive. Such hot weather was unusual for that part 
 of Norway, and according to Yaldemar Svensen, 
 betokened some change. On board the Eulalie 
 everything was ready for the trip to Soroe, — steam 
 was getting up prior to departure, — and a group of 
 red-capped sailors stood prepared to weigh the 
 anchor as soon as the signal was given. Break- 
 fast was over, — Macfarlane was in the saloon 
 writing his journal, which he kept with great 
 exactitude, and Duprez, who, on account of his 
 wound, was considered something of an invalid, 
 
272 THELMA. 
 
 was seated in a lounge chair on deck, delightedly 
 turnino- over a bundle of inflammatory French 
 political journals received that morning. Erring- 
 ton and Lorimer were pacing the deck arm in arm, 
 keeping a sharp look-out for the first glimpse of 
 the returning boat which had been sent off to 
 fetch Thelma and her father. Errington looked 
 vexed and excited, — Lorimer bland and con- 
 vincing. 
 
 '' I can't help it, Phil ! " he said. " It's no use 
 fretting and fuming at me. It's was like Dyce- 
 worthy's impudence, of course, — but there's no 
 doubt he proposed to her, — and it's equally certain 
 that she rejected him. I thought I'd tell you, you 
 had a rival, — not in me, as you seemed to think 
 yesterday, — but in our holy fat friend." 
 
 " Rival ! pshaw ! " returned Errington, with 
 an angry laugh. " He is not worth kicking ! " 
 
 " Possibly not ! Still I have a presentiment 
 that he's the sort of fellow that won't take ' no ' for 
 an answer. He'll dodge that poor girl and make 
 her life miserable if he can, unless " 
 
 " Unless what ? " asked Philip quickly. 
 
 Lorimer stopped in his walk, and, leaning 
 against the deck-railings, looked his friend straight 
 in the eyes. 
 
 " Unless you settle the matter," he said with a 
 sli2:ht effort. " You love her, — tell her so ! " 
 
 Errington laid one hand earnestly on his 
 shoulder. 
 
THE LAND OF TUE MIDNIGHT SUN. 273 
 
 *' All, George, you don't understand ! " he said 
 in a low tone, while his face was grave and full of 
 trouble. " I used to think I was fairly brave, but 
 1 find I am a positive coward. I dare not tell 
 her ! She — Thelma — is not like other women. 
 You may think me a fool, — I dare say you do, — but 
 I swear to you I am afraid to speak, because — 
 because, old boy, — if she were to refuse me, — if I 
 knew there was no hope — well, I don't want to be 
 sentimental, — but my life would be utterly empty 
 and worthless, — so useless, that I doubt if I should 
 care to live it out to the bitter end ! " 
 
 Lorimer heard him in silence, — a silence main- 
 tained partly out of sympathy, and partly that he 
 might keep his own feelings well under control. 
 
 " But why persist in looking at the gloomy 
 side of the picture ? " he said at last. " Suppose 
 she loves you ? " 
 
 '" Suppose an angel flew down from heaven ! " 
 replied Philip, with rather a sad smile. " My dear 
 fellow, who am I that I should flatter myself so 
 far ? If she were one of those ordinary women to 
 whom marriage is the be-all and the end-all of 
 existence, it would be different — but she is not. 
 Her thoughts are like those of a child or a poet, — 
 why should I trouble them by the selfishness of 
 my passion ? for all passion is selfish, even at its 
 best. Why should I venture to break the calm 
 friendship she may have for me, by telling her of 
 a love which might prove unwelcome ? " 
 
 VOL. I. 18 
 
274 THELMA. 
 
 Lorimer looked at him with a gentle amuse- 
 ment depicted in his face. 
 
 " Phil, you are less conceited than I thought 
 you were," he said, with a light laugh, '' or else 
 you are blind — blind as a bat, old man ! Take my 
 advice, — don't lose any more time about it. Make 
 the ' king's daughter of Norroway ' happy, . . ." 
 and a brief sigh escaped him. " You are the man 
 to do it. I am surprised at your density; Sigurd, 
 the lunatic, has more perception. He sees which 
 way the wind blows, — and that's why he's so des- 
 perately unhappy. He thinks — and thinks rightly 
 too — that he will lose his ' beautiful rose of the 
 northern forest,' as he calls her, — and that you are 
 to be the robber. Hence his dislike to you. Dear 
 me ! " and Lorimer lit a cigarette and puffed at it 
 complacently. ^' It seems to me that my wits are 
 becoming sharper as I grow older, and that yours, 
 my dear boy, — pardon me ! . . . are getting some- 
 what blunted, otherwise you would certainly have 
 perceived " he broke off abruptly. 
 
 '' Well, go on ! " exclaimed Philip eagerly, with 
 flashing eyes. " Perceived what ? " 
 
 Lorimer laughed. " That the boat containing 
 your Sun-empress is coming along very rapidly, 
 old fellow, and that you'd better make haste to 
 receive her ! " 
 
 This was the fact, — and Duprez had risen 
 from his chair and was waving his French news- 
 paper energetically to the approaching visitors. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 275 
 
 Errington hastened to the gangway with a 
 brighter flush than usual on his handsome face, 
 and his heart beating with a new sense of ex- 
 hilaration and excitement. If Lorimer's hints 
 had any foundation of truth — if Thelma loved him 
 ever so little — how wild a dream it seemed ! . . . why 
 not risk his fate? He resolved to speak to her 
 that very day if opportunity favoured him, — and, 
 having thus decided, felt quite masterful and 
 heroic about it. 
 
 This feeling of proud and tender elation in- 
 creased when Thelma stepped on deck that morning 
 and laid her hands in his. For, as he greeted her 
 and her father, he saw at a glance that she was 
 slightly changed. Some restless dream must have 
 haunted her — or his hurried words beneath the 
 porch, when he parted from her the previous 
 evening, had startled her and troubled her mind. 
 Her blue eyes were no longer raised to his in abso- 
 lute candour, — her voice was timid, and she had 
 lost something of her usual buoyant and graceful 
 self-possession. But she looked lovelier than ever 
 with that air of shy hesitation and appealing sweet- 
 ness. Love had thrown his network of light about 
 her soul and body till, like Keats's " Madeleine," 
 
 " She seemed a splendid angel newly drest 
 Save wings, for heaven ! " 
 
 As soon as the Glildmars were o^. board, the 
 anchor was weighed with many a cheery and 
 musical cry from the sailors ; the wheel revolved 
 
276 THELMA. 
 
 rapidly under Yaldemar Svensen's firm hand, — and 
 with a grand outward sweeping curtsy to the 
 majestic Fjord she left behind her, the Eulalle 
 steamed away, cutting a glittering line of white 
 foam through the smooth water as she went, and 
 threading her way swiftly among the clustering 
 picturesque islands, — while the inhabitants of every 
 little farm and hamlet on the shores stopped for a 
 while in their occupations to stare at the superb 
 vessel, and to dreamily envy the wealth of the 
 English Herren who could afford to pass the sum- 
 mer months in such luxury and idleness. Thelma 
 seated herself at once by Duprez, and seemed glad 
 to divert attention from herself to him. 
 
 " You are better, Monsieur Duprez, are you 
 not ? " she asked gently. " We saw Sigurd this 
 morning ; he came home last night. He is very, 
 very sorry to have hurt you ! " 
 
 " He need not apologize," said Duprez cheer- 
 fully. " I am delighted he gave me this scar, 
 otherwise I am confident he would have put out 
 the eye of Phil-eep. And that would have been 
 a misfortune ! For what would the ladies in 
 London say if le beau Errington returned to them 
 with one eye ! Alon Dieu ! they would all be 
 en desespoir I " 
 
 Thelma looked up. Philip was standing at 
 some little distance with Olaf Guldmar and Lori- 
 mer, talking and laughing gaily. His caj) was 
 slightly pushed off his forehead, and the sun 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 277 
 
 shone on his thick dark-chestnut curls ; his 
 features, warmly coloured by the wind and sea, 
 were lit up with mirth, and his even white teeth 
 sparkled in an irresistible smile of fascinating 
 good-humour. He was the beau-ideal of the best 
 type of Englishman in the full tide of youth, 
 health, and good spirits. 
 
 " I suppose he is a great favourite with all 
 those beautiful ladies ? " she asked very quietly. 
 
 Something of gentle resignation in her tone 
 struck the Frenchman's sense of chivalry ; had 
 she been like any ordinary woman, bent on con- 
 quest, he would have taken a mischievous delight 
 in inventing a long list of fair ones supposed to 
 be deeply enamoured of Errington's good looks, — 
 but this girl's innocent inquiring face inspired 
 him with quite a different sentiment. 
 
 " Mais certainement I " he said frankly and em- 
 phatically. '' Phil-eep is a favourite everywhere ! 
 Yet not more so with women than with men. I 
 love him extremely — he is a charming boy ! Then 
 you see, chere Mademoiselle, he is rich, — very rich, 
 — and there are so many pretty girls who are 
 very poor, — naturally they are enchanted with 
 our Errington — voyez-vous F " 
 
 "I do not understand," she said, with a puzzled 
 brow. " It is not possible that they should like 
 him better because he is rich. He would be the 
 same man without money as with it — it makes 
 no difference ! " 
 
■278 THELMA. 
 
 " Perhaps not to you," returned Duprez, with 
 a smile ; "but to many it would make an immense 
 difference ! Chere Mademoiselle^ it is a grand 
 thing to have plenty of money, — believe me ! " 
 
 Thelma shrugged her shoulders. " Perhaps," 
 she answered indifferently. " But one cannot 
 spend much on one's self, after all. The nuns 
 at Aries used to tell me that poverty was a virtue, 
 and that to be very rich was to be very miserable. 
 They were poor, — all those good women, — and 
 they were always cheerful." 
 
 " The nuns ! ah, mon Dieu ! " cried Duprez. 
 '' The darlings know not the taste of joy — they 
 speak of what they cannot understand ! How 
 should they know what it is to be happy or 
 unhappy when they bar their great convent doors 
 against the very name of love ! " 
 
 She looked at him, and her colour rose. 
 
 " You always talk of love," she said, half 
 reproachfully, "as if it were so common'^a thing! 
 You know it is sacred — why will 3^ou speak as 
 if it were all a jest ? " 
 
 A strange emotion of admiring tenderness 
 stirred Pierre's heart — he was very impulsive and 
 impressionable. 
 
 '' Forgive me ! " he murmured penitentl}' ; then 
 he added suddenly, " You should have lived ages 
 ago, 7na belle, — the world of to-day will not suit 
 you ! You will be made very sorrowful in it, 
 I assure you, — it is not a place for good women ! " 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 279 
 
 She laughed. *' You are morose," she said. 
 " That is not like you ! No one is good, — we all 
 live to try and make ourselves better." 
 
 " What highly moral converse is going on 
 here ? " inquired Lorimer, strolling leisurely up 
 to them. *' Are you giving Duprez a lecture, 
 Miss Giildmar ? He needs it, — so do I. Please 
 give me a scolding ! " 
 
 And he folded his hands with an air of 
 demure appeal. 
 
 A sunny smile danced in the girl's blue eyes. 
 *' Always you will be foolish!" she said. "One 
 can never know you, because I am sure you never 
 show your real self to anybody. No, — I will not 
 scold you, — but I should like to find you out ! " 
 
 " To find me out ! " echoed Lorimer. " Why, 
 what do you mean ? " 
 
 She nodded her bright head with much 
 sagacity. 
 
 " Ah, I do observe you often ! There is some- 
 thing you hide ; it is like when my father has 
 tears in his eyes, he pretends to laugh, but the 
 tears are there all the time. Now I see in 
 
 you " she paused, and her questioning eyes 
 
 rested on his seriously. 
 
 " This is interesting ! " said Lorimer, lazily 
 drawing a camp-stool opposite to her, and seating 
 himself thereon. " I had no idea I was a human 
 riddle. Can you read me. Miss Giildmar ? " 
 
 *' Yes," she answered slowly and meditatively. 
 
280 THELMA. 
 
 '■' Just a little. But I will not say anything ; no 
 — except this — that you are not altogether what 
 you seem." 
 
 " Here, Phil ! " called Lorimer, as he saw 
 Errington approaching, arm in arm with Olaf 
 (jrlildmar, " Come and admire this young lady's 
 power of perception. She declares I am not such 
 a fool as I look ! " 
 
 "Now," said Thelma, shaking her forefinger 
 at him, " you know very well that I did not put 
 
 it in that way. But is it not true. Sir Philip " 
 
 and she looked up for a moment, though her eyes 
 drooped again swiftly under his ardent gaze, " is 
 it not true that many people do hide their feelings, 
 and pretend to be quite different to what they 
 are ? " 
 
 " I should say it was a very common fault," 
 replied Errington. " It is a means of self-defence 
 against the impertinent curiosity of outsiders. 
 But Lorimer is free from it, — he has nothing to 
 hide. At any rate, he has no secrets from me, — 
 I'm sure of that ! " And he clapped his hand 
 heartily on his friend's shoulder. 
 
 Lorimer flushed slightly, but made no remark, 
 and at that moment Macfarlane emerged from the 
 saloon, where the writing of his journal had till 
 now detained him. In the general hand-shaking 
 and salutations which followed, the conversation 
 took a different turn, for which Lorimer was 
 devoutly thankful. His face was a tell-tale one, — 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 281 
 
 and "he was rather afraid of Philip's keen eyes. 
 '' I hope to Heaven he'll speak to her to-day," he 
 thought, vexedly. " I hate being in suspense ! 
 My mind will be easier when I once know that 
 he has gained his point, — and that there's not the 
 ghost of a chance for any other fellow ! " 
 
 Meanwhile the yacht skimmed along by the 
 barren and rocky coast of Seiland ; the sun was 
 dazzling ; yet there was a mist in the air as 
 though the heavens were full of unshed tears. 
 A bank of nearly motionless clouds hung behind 
 the dark, sharp peaks of the Altenguard mountains, 
 which now lay to the southward, as the vessel 
 pursued her course. There was no wind ; the 
 flag on the mast flapped idly now and then with 
 the motion of the yacht ; and Thelma found her- 
 self too warm with her pretty crimson hood, — she 
 therefore unfastened it and let the sunshine play 
 on the uncovered gold of her hair. They had a 
 superb view of the jagged glacier of Jedke, — black 
 in some parts, and in others white with unmelted 
 snow, — and seeming, as it rose straight up against 
 the sky, to be the majestic monument of some 
 giant Viking. Presently, at her earnest request, 
 Errington brought his portfolio of Norwegian 
 sketches for Thelma to look at ; most of them 
 were excellently well done, and elicited much 
 admiration from the honde. 
 
 " It is what I have wondered at all my life," 
 said he, " that skill of the brush dipped in colour. 
 
282 THELMA. 
 
 Pictures surprise me as mucli as poems. Ah, 
 men are marvellous creatures, when they are once 
 brought to understand that they are men, — not 
 beasts! One will take a few words and harmonize 
 them into a song or a verse that clings to the 
 world for ever; another will mix a few paints and 
 dab a brush in them, and give you a picture that 
 generation after generation shall flock to see. It 
 is what is called genius, — and genius is a sort of 
 miracle. Yet I think it is fostered by climate a 
 good deal, — the further north, the less inspiration. 
 A\^armth, colour, and the lightness of heart that 
 a generally bright sky brings, enlarges the brain 
 and makes it capable of creative power." 
 
 '' My dear sir," said Lorimer, " England does 
 not possess these climatic advantages, and yet 
 Shakespeare was an Englishman." 
 
 '' He must have travelled," returned Giildrnar 
 positively. '' No one will make me believe that 
 the man never visited Italy. His Italian scenes 
 prove it, — they are full of the place and the people. 
 The whole of his works, full of such wonderful 
 learning, and containing so many types of different 
 nations, show, — to rni/ mind, at least, — that coun- 
 tries were his books of study. Why I, who am only 
 a farmer, and proprietor of a bit of Norwegian land, 
 — I have learned many a thing from simply taking 
 a glance at a new shore each year. That's the 
 way I used to amuse myself when I was j^oung, — 
 now I am old, the sea tempts me less, and I am 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 283 
 
 fonder of my arm-chair ; yet I've seen a good deal 
 in my time — enough to provide me with memories 
 for my declining days. And it's a droll thing, 
 too," he added, with a laugh, " the further south 
 you go, the more immoral and merry are the 
 people ; the further north, the more virtuous and 
 miserable. There's a wrong balance somewhere, 
 — but where, 'tis not easy to find out." 
 
 " Weel," said Macfarlane, " I can give ye a 
 direct contradeection to your theory. Scotland 
 lies to the north, and ye'll not find a grander har- 
 vest o' sinfu' souls anywhere between this an' the 
 day o' judgment. I'm a Scotchman, an' I'm just 
 proud o' my country — I'd back its men against a' 
 the human race, — but I wadna say much for the 
 stabeelity o' its women. I wad just tak to my 
 heels and run if I saw a real, thumpin', red- 
 cheeked, big-boned Scotch lassie makin' up to me. 
 There's nae bashfulness in they sort, and nae 
 safety." 
 
 *' I will go to Scotland ! " said Duprez enthusi- 
 astically. " I feel that those — what do you call 
 them, lassies ? — will charm me ! " 
 
 " Scotland I never saw," said Glildmar. " From 
 all I have heard, it seems to me 'twould be too much 
 like Norway. After one's eyes have rested long 
 on these dark mountains and glaciers, one likes 
 now and then to see a fertile sunshiny stretch of 
 country such as France, or the plains of Lombardy. 
 Of course there may be exceptions, but I tell you 
 
284 THELMA. 
 
 climatic influences have a great deal to do with 
 the state of mind and morals. Now, take the 
 example of that miserable old Lovisa Elsland. 
 She is the victim of religious mania — and religious 
 mania, together with superstition of the most 
 foolish kind, is common in Norway. It happens 
 often during the long winters ; the people have 
 not sufficient to occupy their minds ; no clergy- 
 man — not even Dyceworthy — can satisfy the 
 height of their fanaticism. They preach and pray 
 and shriek and groan in their huts ; some swear 
 that they have the spirit of prophecy, — others that 
 they are possessed of devils, — others imagine 
 witchcraft, like Lovisa — and altogether there 
 is such a howling on the name of Christ, that 
 I am glad to be out of it, — for 'tis a sight to 
 awaken the laughter and contempt of a pagan 
 such as I am ! " 
 
 Thelma listened with a slight shadow of pain 
 on her features. 
 
 " Father is not a pagan," she declared, turning 
 to Lorimer. '' How can one be pagan if one 
 believes that there is good in everything, — and 
 that nothing happens except for the best ? " 
 
 " It sounds to me more Christian than pagan," 
 averred Lorimer, with a smile. " But it's no use 
 appealing to me on such matters, Miss Giildmar. 
 I am an advocate of the Law of Nothing. I re- 
 member a worthy philosopher who, — when he was 
 in his cups, — earnestly assured me it was all right 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN". 285 
 
 — ^ everything was nothing, and nothing was 
 everything.' ' You are sure that is so ? ' I would 
 say to him. ' My dear young friend — hie — I am 
 positive ! I have — hie — worked out the problem 
 with — hie — care ! ' And he would shake me by 
 the hand warmly, with a mild and moist smile, 
 and would retire to bed walking sideways in the 
 most amiable manner. I'm certain his ideas were 
 correct as well as luminous." 
 
 They laughed, and then looking up saw that 
 they were passing a portion of the coast of Seiland 
 which was more than usually picturesque. Facing 
 them was a great cavernous cleft in the rocks, 
 tinted with a curious violet hue intermingled with 
 bronze, — and in the strong sunlight these colours 
 flashed with the brilliancy of jewels, reflecting 
 themselves in the pale slate-coloured sea. By 
 Errington's orders the yacht slackened speed, and 
 glided along with an almost noiseless motion, — and 
 they were silent, listening to the dash and drip 
 of water that fell invisibly from the toppling crags 
 that frowned above, while the breathless heat and 
 stillness of the air added to the weird solemnity of 
 the scene. They all rose from their chairs and 
 leaned on the deck-rails, looking, but uttering no 
 word. 
 
 " In one of these islands," said Thelma at last, 
 very softly — "it was either Seiland or Soroe — they 
 once found the tomb of a great chief. There was 
 an inscription outside that warned all men to 
 
286 THELMA. 
 
 respect it, but they laughed at the warning and 
 opened the tomb. And they saw, seated in a 
 stone chair, a skeleton with a gold crown on its 
 head and a great carved seal in its hand, and at 
 its feet there was a stone casket. The casket was 
 broken open, and it was full of gold and jewels. 
 Well, they took all the gold and jewels, and buried 
 the skeleton — and now, — do you know what 
 happens? At midnight a number of strange 
 persons are seen searching on the shore and 
 among the rocks for the lost treasure, and it is 
 said they often utter cries of anger and despair. 
 And those who robbed the tomb all died suddenly." 
 
 " Served them right ! " said Lorimer. " And 
 now they are dead, I suppose the wronged ghosts 
 don't appear any more ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, they do," said Griildmar very seri- 
 ously. " If any sailor passes at midnight and 
 sees them or hears their cries, he is doomed." 
 
 " But does he see or hear them ? " asked Erring- 
 ton, with a smile. 
 
 " Well, I don't know," returned Giildmar, with 
 a grave shake of his head. '' I'm not superstitious 
 myself, but I should be sorry to say anything 
 against the berg-folk. You see they may exist, 
 and it's no use olfending them." 
 
 "And what do ye mean by the berg-folk?" 
 inquired Macfarlane. 
 
 " They are supposed to be the souls of persons 
 who died impenitent," said Thelma, " and they 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 287 
 
 are doomed to wander on the hills till the day of 
 judgment. It is a sort of purgatory," 
 
 Duprez shook his fingers emphatically in the 
 air. 
 
 " Ah, bah ! " he said, *' what droll things 
 remain still in the world ! Yes, in spite of liberty, 
 equality, fraternity ! You do not believe in 
 foolish legends. Mademoiselle ? For example, — 
 do you think you will suffer purgatory ? " 
 
 " Indeed yes ! " she replied, " No one can be 
 good enough to go straight to heaven. There 
 must be some little stop on the way in which to 
 be sorry for all the bad things one has done." 
 
 " 'Tis the same idea as ours," said Guldmar. 
 " We have two places of punishment in the Norse 
 faith ; one, Nifleheim, which is a temporary thing- 
 like the Catholic purgatory ; the other Nastrond, 
 which is the counterpart of the Christian hell. 
 Know you not the description of Nijleheim in the 
 Edda ? — 'tis. 'terrible enough to satisfy all tastes. 
 ' Hela,^ or Death, rules over the Nine Worlds of 
 Nifleheim. Her hall is called Grief. Famine is 
 her table, and her only servant is Delay. Her 
 gate is a precipice, her porch Faintness, her bed 
 Leanness, — Cursing and Howling are her tent. 
 Her glance is dreadful and terrifying, — and her 
 lips are blue with the venom of Hatred.' These 
 words," he added, " sound finer in Norwegian, but 
 I have given the meaning fairly." 
 
 " Ma certes ! " said Macfarlane chuckling. 
 
288 THELMA. 
 
 '' I'll tell my aunt in Glasgie aboot it. This 
 Nifleheim wad suit her pairfectlj, — she wad send 
 a' her relations there wi' tourist tickets, not avail- 
 able for the return journey ! " 
 
 *' It seems to me," observed Errington, " that 
 the Nine Worlds of Nifleheim have a resemblance 
 to the different circles of Dante's Purgatory." 
 
 " Exactly so," said Lorimer, "All religions seem 
 to me to be more or less the same, — the question / 
 can never settle is, — which is the right one ? " 
 
 "• Would you follow it if you kuew ? " asked 
 Thelma, with a slight smile. Lorimer laughed. 
 
 " Well, upon my life, I don't know ! " he 
 answered frankly, " I never was a praying sort of 
 fellow, — I don't seem to grasp the idea of it some- 
 how. But there's one thing I'm certain of, — I 
 can't endure a bird without song, — a flower 
 without scent, — or a woman without religion — she 
 seems to me no woman at all." 
 
 " But ai^e there any such women ? " inquired 
 the girl surprised. 
 
 " Yes, there are undoubtedly ! Free-thinking, 
 stump-orator, have-your-rights sort of creatures. 
 You don't know anything about them. Miss Giild- 
 mar — be thankful ! Now, Phil, how long is this 
 vessel of yours going to linger here ? " 
 
 Thus reminded, Errington called to the pilot, 
 and in a few minutes the Eulalle resumed her 
 usual speed, and bore swiftly on towards Soroe. 
 This island, dreary and dark in the distance, grew 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 289 
 
 somewhat more inviting in aspect on a nearer 
 approach. Now and then a shaft of sunlight fell 
 on some glittering point of felspar or green patch 
 of verdure, — and Yaldemar Svensen stated that 
 he knew of a sandy creek where, if the party 
 chose, they could land and see a small cave of 
 exquisite beauty, literally hung all over with 
 stalactites. 
 
 " I never heard of this cave," said Guldmar, 
 fixing a keen eye on the pilot. " Art thou a 
 traveller's guide to all such places in Norway ? " 
 
 Somewhat to Errington's surprise, Svensen 
 changed colour and appeared confused ; moreover, 
 he removed his red cap altogether when he 
 answered the bonde, to whom he spoke deferen- 
 tially in rapid Norwegian. The old man laughed 
 as he listened, and seemed satisfied ; then, turning 
 away, he linked his arm through Philip's, and said, 
 
 " You must pardon him, my lad, that he 
 spoke in your presence a tongue unfamiliar to 
 you. No offence was meant. He is of my creed, 
 but fears to make it known, lest he should lose all 
 employment — which is likely enough, seeing that 
 so many of the people are fanatics. Moreover, 
 he is bound to me by an oath, — which in olden 
 days would have made him my serf, — but which 
 leaves him free enough just now, — with one ex- 
 ception." 
 
 " And that exception ? " asked Errington with 
 some interest. 
 
 TOL. I. '19 
 
290 THELMA. 
 
 " Is, that should I ever demand a certain 
 service at his hands, he dare not refuse it. Odd, 
 isn't it ? or so it seems to you," and Glildmar 
 pressed the young man's arm lightly and kindly ; 
 *' but our Norse oaths are taken with great 
 solemnity, and are as binding as the obligation of 
 death itself. However, I have not commanded 
 Yaldemar's obedience yet, nor do I think I am 
 likely to do so for some time. He is a fine, faith- 
 ful fellow, — though too much given to dreams." 
 
 A gay chorus of laughter here broke from the 
 little group seated on deck, of which Thelma 
 was the centre, — and Guldmar stopped in his 
 walk, with an attentive smile on his open, ruddy 
 countenance. 
 
 " 'Tis good for the heart to hear the merriment 
 of young folks," he said. " Think you not my 
 girl's laugh is like the ripple of a lark's song ? just 
 so clear and joyous ? " 
 
 "Her voice is music itself!" declared Philip 
 quickly and warmly. " There is nothing she 
 says, or does, or looks, — that is not absolutely 
 beautiful ! " 
 
 Then, suddenly aware of his precipitation, he 
 stopped abruptly. His face flushed as Guldmar 
 regarded him fixedly, with a musing and doubtful 
 air. But whatever the old man thought, he said 
 nothing. He merely held the young baronet's 
 arm a little closer, and together they joined the 
 othersj — though it was noticeable that during the 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 201 
 
 rest of the day the honde was rather abstracted 
 and serious, — and that every now and then his 
 eyes rested on his daughter's face with an ex- 
 pression of tender yearning and melancholy. 
 
 It was about two hours after luncheon that the 
 Ealalie approached the creek spoken of by the 
 pilot, and they were all fascinated by the love- 
 liness, as w^ell as by the fierce grandeur of the 
 scene. The rocks on that portion of Soroe appeared 
 to have split violently asunder to admit some 
 great in-rushing passage of the sea, and were 
 piled up in toppling terraces to the height of 
 more than two thousand feet above the level of 
 the water. Beneath these wild and craggy for- 
 tresses of nature a shining stretch of beach had 
 formed itself, on which the fine white sand mixed 
 with crushed felspar, sparkled like powdered 
 silver. On the left-hand side of this beach could 
 be distinctly seen the round opening of the cavern 
 to which Yaldemar Svensen directed their atten- 
 tion. They decided to visit it — the yacht was 
 brought to a standstill, and the long-boat lowered. 
 They took no sailors with them, Errington and 
 his companions rowing four oars, while Thelma 
 and her father occupied the stern. A landing 
 wa:s easily effected, and they walked towards tlie 
 cavern, treading on thousands of beautiful little 
 shells which strewed the sand beneath their feet. 
 There was a deep stillness everywhere — the island 
 was so desolate that it seemed as though the very 
 
292 THELMA. 
 
 sea-birds refused to make their homes in the black 
 clefts of such steep and barren rocks. 
 
 At the entrance of the little cave Grlildmar 
 looked back to the sea. 
 
 '' There's a storm coming ! " he announced. 
 " Those clouds we saw this morning have sailed 
 thither almost as quickly as ourselves ! " 
 
 The sky had indeed grown darker, and little 
 wrinkling waves disturbed the surface of the 
 water. But the sun as yet retained his sove- 
 reignty, and there was no wind. By the pilot's 
 advice, Errington and his friends had provided 
 themselves each with a pine torch, in order to 
 light up the cavern as soon as they found them- 
 selves within it. The smoky crimson flare illu- 
 minated what seemed at a first glance to be a 
 miniature fairy palace studded thickly with clusters 
 of diamonds. Long pointed stalactites hung from 
 the roof at almost mathematically even distances 
 from one another, — the walls glistened with vary- 
 ing shades of pink and green and violet, — and in 
 the very midst of the cave was a still pool of 
 water in which all the fantastic forms and hues 
 of the place mirrored themselves in miniature. 
 In one corner the stalactites had clustered into 
 the shape of a large chair overhung by a canopy, 
 and Duprez perceiving it, exclaimed — 
 
 " Voila ! A queen's throne ! Come, Made- 
 moiselle Guldmar, you must sit in it! " 
 
 " But I am not a queen," laughed Tbelma, — 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 293 
 
 ^* A throne is for a king, also — will not Sir Philip 
 sit there ? " 
 
 " There's a compliment for yon, Phil ! " cried 
 Lorimer, waving his torch, enthusiastically. " Let 
 us awaken the echoes with the shout of ' Long 
 live the King ! ' " 
 
 But Errington approached Thelma, and taking 
 her hand in his, said gently — 
 
 " Come ! let me see you throned in state, 
 Queen Thelma ! To please me, — come ! " 
 
 She looked up — the flame of the bright torch 
 he carried illumined his face, on which love had 
 written what she could not fail to read, — but she 
 trembled as with cold, and there was a kind of 
 appealing wonder in her troubled eyes. He drew 
 closer and pressed her hand more tightly ; again 
 he whispered, '* Come, Queen Thelma ! " As in a 
 dream, she allowed him to lead her to the stalactite 
 chair, and when she was seated therein, she endea- 
 voured to control the rapid beating of her heart 
 and to smile unconcernedly on the little group 
 that surrounded her with shouts of mingled mirth 
 and admiration. 
 
 " Ye just look fine ! " said Macfarlane with 
 undisguised delight. " Ye'd mak' a grand picture, 
 wouldn't she, Errington ? " 
 
 Philip gazed at her, but said nothing — his 
 heart was too full. Sitting there among the glitter- 
 ing, intertwisted, and suspended rocks, — with 
 the blaze from the torches flashing on her winsome 
 
294 THELMA. 
 
 face and luxuriant hair, — with that half- troubled, 
 half-happj look in her eyes, and an uncertain 
 shadowy smile quivering on her sweet lips, the 
 girl looked almost dangerously lovely, — Helen of 
 Troy could scarce have fired more passionate 
 emotion among the old-world heroes than she un- 
 consciously excited at that moment in the minds 
 of all who beheld her. Duprez for once under- 
 stood what it was to reverence a woman's beauty, 
 and decided that the flippant language of compli- 
 ment was out of place — he therefore said nothing, 
 and Lorimer, too, was silent, battling bravely 
 against wild desires that were now, in his opinion, 
 nothing but disloyalty to his friend. Old Giild- 
 mar's hearty voice aroused and startled them all. 
 
 " Now Thelma, child ! If thou art a queen, 
 give orders to these lads to be moving ! 'Tis a 
 damp place to hold a court in, and thy throne 
 must needs be a cold one. Let us out to the 
 blessed sunshine again — maybe we can climb one 
 of yon wild rocks and get a view worth seeing." 
 
 '' All right, sir ! " said Lorimer, chivalrously 
 resolving that now Erriugton should have a 
 chance. " Come on, Mac ! Allons, marchons, — 
 Pierre! Mr. Glild mar exacts our obedience! Phil, 
 you take care of the queen ! " 
 
 And skilfully pushing on Duprez and Mnc- 
 farlane before him, he followed Guldmar, who 
 pieceded them all, — thus leaving his friend in a 
 momentary comparative solitude with Thelma. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 295 
 
 The girl was a little startled as slie saw them thus 
 taking their departure, and sprang up from her 
 stalactite throne in haste. Sir Philip had laid 
 aside his torch in order to assist her with both 
 hands to descend the sloping rocks ; but her em- 
 barrassment at being left almost alone with him 
 made her nervous and uncertain of foot, — she was 
 hurried and agitated and anxious to overtake the 
 others, and in trying to walk quickly she slipped 
 and nearly fell. In one second she was caught in 
 his arms and clasped passionately to his heart. 
 
 " Thelma ! Thelma ! " he whispered, " I love 
 you, my darling — I love you ! " 
 
 She trembled in his strong embrace, and strove 
 to release herself, but he pressed her more closely 
 to him, scarcely knowing that he did so, but feel- 
 ing that he held the world, life, time, happiness, 
 and salvation in this one fair creature. His brain 
 was in a wild whirl — the glitter of the stalactite 
 cave turned to a gyrating wheel of jewel- work, 
 there was nothing any more — no universe, no 
 existence — nothing but love, love, love, beating 
 strong hammer-strokes through every fibre of his 
 frame. He glanced up, and saw that the slowly 
 retreating forms of his friends had nearly reached 
 the outer opening of the cavern. Once there, they 
 would look back and 
 
 '' Quick, Thelma! " and his warm breath touched 
 her cheek. "My darling! my love! if you are 
 not angry, — kiss me I I shall understand." 
 
296 THELMA. 
 
 She hesitated. To Philip that instant of hesi- 
 tation seemed a cycle of slow revolving years. 
 Timidly she lifted her head. She was very pale, 
 and her breath came and went quickly. He gazed 
 at her in speechless suspense, — and saw as in a 
 vision the pure radiance of her face and star-like 
 eyes shining more and more closely upon him. 
 Then came a touch, — soft and sweet as a roseleaf 
 pressed against his lips, — and for one mad moment 
 he remembered nothing, — he was caught up like 
 Homer's Paris in a cloud of gold, and knew not 
 which was earth or heaven. 
 
 " You love me, Thelma ? " he murmured in a 
 sort of wondering rapture. " I cannot believe it, 
 sweet ! Tell me — you love me ? " 
 
 She looked up. A new, unspeakable glory 
 flushed her face, and her eyes glowed with the 
 mute eloquence of awakening passion. 
 
 *' Love you ? " she said in a voice so low and 
 sweet that it might have been the whisper of a 
 passing fairy. " Ah, yes ! more than my life ! " 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 297 
 
 CHAPTER X[V. 
 
 " Sweet hands, sweet hair, sweet cheeks, sweet eyes, sweet mouth ; 
 Each singly wooed and won ! " 
 
 Dante Kossetti. 
 
 " HiLLO, ho ! " shouted Grlildmar vociferously, 
 peering back into the shadows of the cavern from 
 whence the figures of his daughter and Errington 
 were seen presently emerging. " Why, what 
 kept you so long, my lad ? We thought you 
 were close behind us. Where's your torch ? " 
 
 " It went out," replied Philip promptly, as 
 he assisted Thelma with grave and ceremonious 
 politeness to cross over some rough stones at the 
 entrance, " and we had some trouble to find our 
 way." 
 
 " Ye might hae called to us i' the way o' 
 friendship," observed Macfarlane somewhat sus- 
 piciously, ''' and we wad hae lighted ye through." 
 
 *' Oh, it was no matter ! " said Thelma, with a 
 charming smile. " Sir Philip seemed well to 
 know the way, and it was not so very dark ! " 
 
 Lorimer glanced at her and read plainly all 
 
298 THELMA. 
 
 that was written in her happy face. His heart 
 sank a little ; but, noticing that the old honde was 
 studying his daughter with a slight air of vexa- 
 tion and surprise, he loyally determined to divert 
 the general attention from her bright blushes and 
 too brilliantly sparkling eyes. 
 
 " Well ! . . . here you both are, at any rate," 
 he said lightly, " and I should strongly advise that 
 we attempt no more exploration of the island of 
 Soroe to-day. Look at the sky ; and just now 
 there was a clap of thunder." 
 
 " Thunder ? " exclaimed Errington. '' I never 
 heard it ! " 
 
 " I dare say not ! " said Lorimer, with a quiet 
 smile. " Still we heard it pretty distinctly, and 
 I think we'd better make for the yacht." 
 
 " All right ! " and Sir Philip sprang gaily into 
 the long-boat to arrange the cushions in the stern 
 for Thehna. Never had he looked handsomer or 
 more high-spirited, and his elation was noticed by 
 all his companions. 
 
 " Something joyous has happened to our 
 Phil-eep," said Duprez in a half-whisper. " He is 
 in the air ! " 
 
 " And something in the ither way has hap- 
 pened vera suddenly to Mr. Gtildmar," returned 
 Macfarlane. " Th' aiild man is in the dumps." 
 
 The boncles face in truth looked sad and some- 
 what stern. He scarcely spoke at all as he took 
 his place in the boat beside his daughter, — once 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 299 
 
 he raised her little hand, looked at it, and kissed 
 it fondly. 
 
 They were all soon on their way hack to the 
 Eulalie, over a sea that had grown rough and 
 white-crested during their visit to the stalactite 
 cave. Clouds had gathered thickly over the sky, 
 and thono^h a few shafts of sunlio-ht still forced a 
 passage through them, the threatening darkness 
 spread with steady persistency, especially to the 
 northern side of the horizon, where Storm hovered 
 in the shape of a black wing' edged with coppery 
 crimson. As they reached the yacht a silver 
 glare of lightning sprang forth from beneath this 
 sable pinion, and a few large drops of rain began 
 to fall. Errington hurried Thelma on deck and 
 down into the saloon. His friends, with Guldmar, 
 followed, — and the vessel was soon plunging 
 through waves of no small height on her way 
 back to the Altenfjord. A loud peal of thunder 
 like a salvo of artiller}^ accompanied their de- 
 parture from Soroe, and Thelma shivered a little 
 as she heard it. 
 
 "You are nervous. Mademoiselle Guldmar?" 
 asked Duprez, noticing her tremor. 
 
 " Oh no," she answered brightly. " Nervous ? 
 That is to be afraid, — I am not afraid of a storm, 
 but I do not like it. It is a cruel, fierce thing ; 
 and I should have wished to-day to be all sun- 
 shine — all gladness ! " She paused, and her eyes 
 grew soft and humid. 
 
300 THELMA. 
 
 " Then you have been happy to-day ? " said 
 Lorimer in a low and very gentle voice. 
 
 She smiled up at him from the depths of the 
 velvet lounge in which Errington had placed her. 
 
 " Happy ? I do not think I have ever been so 
 happy before ! " She paused, and a bright blush 
 crimsoned her cheeks ; then, seeing the jjiano open, 
 she said suddenly, " Shall I sing to you ? or 
 perhaps you are all tired, and would rather rest ? '' 
 
 " Music is rest," said Lorimer rather dreamily, 
 watching her as she rose from her seat, — a tall, 
 supple, lithe figure, — and moved towards the 
 instrument. *' And your voice. Miss Glildmar, 
 would soothe the most weary soul that ever dwelt 
 in clay." 
 
 She glanced round at him, surprised at his 
 sad tone. 
 
 ^' Ah, you are very, very tired, Mr. Lorimer, I 
 am sure! I will sing you a Norse cradle-song to 
 make you go to sleep. You will not understand 
 the words though — will that matter ? " 
 
 " Not in the least ! " answered Lorimer, with 
 a smile. " The London girls sing in German, 
 Italian, Spanish, and English. Nobody knows 
 what they are saying : they scarcely know them- 
 selves — but it's all right, and quite fashionable." 
 
 Thelma laughed gaily. " How funny ! " she 
 exclaimed. " It is to amuse people, I suppose ! 
 Well,— now listen." And, playing a soft prelude, 
 her rich contralto rippled forth in a tender, pas- 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 301 
 
 sionate, melancholy melody, — so sweet ' and heart- 
 penetrating that the practical Macfarlane sat as 
 one in a dream, — Duprez forgot to finish making 
 the cigarette he was daintily manipulating between 
 his fingers, and Lorimer had much ado to keep 
 tears from his eyes. From one song she glided 
 to another and yet another ; her soul seemed 
 possessed by the very spirit of music. Mean- 
 while Errington, in obedience to an imperative 
 sign from old Guldmar, left the saloon with him, 
 — once outside the door, the honde said in a some- 
 what agitated voice — 
 
 '• I desire to speak to you, Sir Philip, alone and 
 undisturbed, if such a thing be possible." 
 
 " By all means ! " answered Philip. " Come 
 to my ' den ' on deck. We shall be quite solitary 
 there." 
 
 He led the way, and Olaf Gruldmar followed 
 jiim in silence. 
 
 It was raining fiercely, and the waves, green 
 towers of strength, broke every now and then 
 over the sides of the yacht with a hissing shower 
 of salt white spray. The thunder rolled along 
 the sky in angry reverberating echoes, — frequent 
 flashes of lightning leaped out like swords drawn 
 from dark scabbards, — yet towards the south the 
 sky was clearing, and arrowy beams of pale gold 
 iell from the hidden sun, with a soothing and 
 soft lustre on the breast of the troubled water. 
 
 Guldmar looked about him, and heaved a deep 
 
302 THELMA. 
 
 vslgh of rerresliment. His eyes rested lovingly on 
 the tumbling billows, — he bared his white head to 
 the wind and rain. 
 
 '* This is the life, the blood, the heart of a 
 man ! " he said, while a sort of fierce delight 
 shone in his keen eyes. " To battle with the 
 tempest, — to laugh at the wrath of waters, — to set 
 one's face against the wild wind, — to sport with 
 the elements as though they were children or 
 serfs, — this is the joy of manhood ! A joy," he 
 added slowly, " that few so-called men of to-day 
 can ever feel." 
 
 Errington smiled gravely. " Perhaps you are 
 right, sir," he said ; " but perhaps, at the same 
 time, you forget that life has grown very bitter 
 to all of us during the last hundred years or so. 
 Maybe the world is getting old and used up, 
 maybe the fault is in ourselves, — but it is certain 
 that none of us nowadays are particularly happy, 
 except at rare intervals when " 
 
 At that moment, in a lull of the storm, 
 Thelma's voice pealed upwards from the saloon. 
 She was singing a French song, and the refrain 
 rang out clearly — 
 
 "Ah ! le doux son d'lm baiser tendre ! " 
 
 Errington paused abruptly in his speech, and 
 turning towards a little closed and covered place 
 on deck which was half cabin, half smoking-room, 
 and which he kept as his own private sanctum, 
 he unlocked it, saying — 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 303 
 
 " Will you come in here, sir ? It's not very 
 spacious, but I think it's just the place for a chat, 
 — especially a private one." 
 
 Grlildmar entered, but did not sit down, — 
 Errington shut the door against the rain and 
 beating spray, and also remained standing. After 
 a pause, during which the honde seemed struggling 
 with some inward emotion, he said resolutely — 
 
 " Sir Philip, you are a young man, and I am 
 an old one. I would not willingly offend you — 
 for I like you — yes ! " And the old man looked 
 up frankly, " I like you enough to respect you — 
 which is more than I can say to many men I have 
 known ! But I have a weight on my heart that 
 must be lifted. You and my child have been 
 much together for many days,— and I was an old 
 fool not to have foreseen the influence your 
 companionship might have upon her. I may be 
 mistaken in the idea that has taken hold of me — 
 some wild words let fall by the poor boy Sigurd 
 this morning, when he entreated my pardon for 
 his misconduct of yesterday, have perhaps misled 
 my judgment, — but — by the gods ! I cannot put 
 
 it into suitable words ! I " 
 
 " You think I love your daughter ? " said Sir 
 Philip quietly. " You are not mistaken, sir ! I 
 love her with my whole heart and soul I 1 want 
 you to give her to rae as my wife." 
 
 A change passed over the old farmer's face. 
 He grew deathly pale, and put out one hand 
 
304 THELMA. 
 
 feebly as thougli to seek some support. Errlngton 
 caught it in his own and pressed it hard. 
 
 " Surely you are not surprised, sir ? " he added 
 with eagerness. " How can I help loving her ! 
 She is the best and loveliest girl I have ever 
 seen ! Believe me, — I would make her happy ! " 
 
 " And have you thought, young man," re- 
 turned Giildmar slowly, " that you would make 
 me desolate ? — or, thinking it, have you cared ? " 
 
 There was an infinite pathos in his voice, and 
 Errington was touched and silent. He found no 
 answer to this reproach. Grtlldmar sat down, 
 leaning his head on his hand. 
 
 '' Let me think a little," he said. " My mind 
 is confused a bit. I was not prepared for " 
 
 He paused and seemed lost in sorrowful 
 meditation. By-and-by he looked up, and meet- 
 ing Erringtons anxious gaze, he broke into a 
 short laugh. 
 
 " Don't mind me, my lad ! " he said sturdily. 
 " 'Tis a blow, you see ! I had not thought so far 
 as this. I'll tell you the plain truth, and you 
 must forgive me for wronging you. I know what 
 young blood is, all the world over. A fair face 
 fires it — and impulse makes it gallop beyond 
 control. 'Twas so with me when I was your age, 
 — though no woman, I hope, was ever the w^orse 
 for my harmless love-making. But Thelma is 
 different from most women, — she has a strange 
 nature, — moreover, she has a heart and a memory, 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 305 
 
 — if she once learns the meaning of love, she will 
 never unlearn the lesson. Now, I thought, that 
 like most young men of your type, you might, 
 without meaning any actual evil, trifle with her — 
 play with her feelings " 
 
 " I understand, sir," said Philip coolly, without 
 displaying any offence. " To put it plainly, in 
 spite of your liking for me, you thought me a 
 snob." 
 
 This time the old man laughed heartily and 
 unforcedly. 
 
 " Dear, dear ! " he exclaimed. " You are what 
 is termed in your own land, a peppery customer ! 
 Never mind — I like it ! Why, my lad, the men of 
 to-day think it fair sport to trifle with a pretty 
 woman now and then " 
 
 " Pardon ! " interrupted Philip curtly. " I 
 must defend my sex. We may occasionally trifle 
 with those women who show us that they wish to 
 be trifled with — but never with those who, like 
 your daughter, win every man's respect and 
 reverence." 
 
 Giildmar rose and grasped his hand fervently. 
 
 "By all the gods, I believe you are a true 
 gentleman ! " he said. " I ask your pardon if I 
 have offended you by so much as a thought. But 
 now " — and his face grew very serious — " we must 
 talk this matter over. I will not speak of the 
 suddenness of your love for my child, because I 
 know, from my own past experience, that love is a 
 
 VOL. I. 20 
 
306 THELMA. 
 
 rapid impulse — a flame ignited in a moment. Yes, 
 I know that well ! " He paused, and his voice 
 trembled a little, but he soon steadied it and went 
 on — " I think, however, my lad, that you have 
 been a little hasty, — for instance, have you thought 
 what your English friends and relatives will say 
 to your marrying a farmer's daughter who, — 
 though she has the blood of kings in her veins, — 
 is, nevertheless, as this present world would judge, 
 beneath you in social standing ? I say, have you 
 thought of this ? " 
 
 Philip smiled proudly. " Certainly, sir, I have 
 not thought of any such trifle as the opinion of 
 society, — if that is what you mean. I have no 
 relatives to please or displease — no friends in the 
 truest sense of the word except Lorimer. I have 
 a long list of acquaintances undoubtedly, — infinite 
 bores, most of them, — and whether they approve 
 or disapprove of my actions is to me a matter 
 of profound indifference." 
 
 " See you ! " said the honde firmly and earnestly. 
 '' It would be an ill day for me if I gave my little 
 one to a husband who might — mind ! I only say 
 mi gilt, — in the course of years, regret having 
 married her." 
 
 '' Regret ! " cried Philip excitedly, then quiet- 
 ing down, he said gently. " My good friend, I 
 do not think you understand me. You talk as if 
 Tlielma were beneath me. Good God ! It is / 
 who am infinitely beneath her I I am utterly 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 307 
 
 unworthy of lier in every way, I assure you — 
 and I tell you so frankly. I have led a useless 
 life, and a more or less selfish one. I have princi- 
 pally sought to amuse and interest myself all 
 through it. I've had my vices too, and have 
 them still. Beside Thelma's innocent white soul 
 mine looks villainous ! But I can honestly say 
 I never knew what love was till I saw her, — and 
 now — well ! I would give my life away gladly 
 to save her from even a small sorrow." 
 
 " I believe you — I thoroughly believe you ! " 
 said Giildmar. " I see you love the child. The 
 gods forbid that I should stand in the way of her 
 happiness ! I am getting old, and 'twas often a 
 sore point with me to know what would become 
 of my darling when I was gone, — for she is fair to 
 look upon, and there are many human wolves 
 ready to devour such lambs. Still, my lad, you 
 must learn all. Do vou know what is said of me 
 in Bosekop ? " 
 
 Errington smiled and nodded in the affirma- 
 tive. 
 
 " You do ? " exclaimed the old man, somewhat 
 surprised. " You know they say I killed my wife — 
 my wife ! the creature before whom my soul knelt 
 in worship night and day — whose bright head was 
 the sunlight of my life ! Let me tell you of lier. 
 Sir Philip — 'tis a simple story. She was the chikl 
 of my dearest friend, and many years younger 
 than myself. This friend of mine, Erik Erlandsen, 
 
308 THELMA. 
 
 was the captain of a stout Norwegian barque, 
 running constantly between these wild waters and 
 the coast of France. He fell in love with, and 
 married a blue-eyed beauty from the Sogne Fjord, 
 he carried her secretly away from her parents, 
 who would not consent to the marriage. She was 
 a timid creature, in spite of her queenly ways, and, 
 for fear of her parents, she would never land again 
 on the shores of Norway. She grew to love 
 France, — and Erik often left her there in some safe 
 shelter when he was bound on some extra long 
 and stormy passage. She took to the Catholic 
 creed, too, in France, and learned to speak the 
 French tongue, so Erik said, as though it were her 
 own. At the time of the expected birth of her 
 child, her husband had taken her far inland to 
 Aries, and there business compelled him to leave 
 her for some days. When he returned she was 
 dead ! — laid out for burial, with flowers and tapers 
 round her. He fell prone on her body insensible, — 
 and not for many hours did the people of the place 
 dare to tell him that he was the father of a living 
 child — a girl, with the great blue eyes and white 
 skin of her mother. He would scarce look at it — 
 but at last, when roused a bit, he carried the little 
 thing in his arms to the great Convent at Aries, 
 and, giving the nuns money, he bade them take 
 it and bring it up as they would, only giving it 
 the name of Thelma. Then poor Erlandsen came 
 home — he sought me out ; — he said, ' Olaf, I feel 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 309 
 
 that I am going on my last voyage. Promise 
 you will see to my child — guard her, if you can, 
 from an evil fate ! For me there is no future ! ' 
 I promised, and strove to cheer him — but he spoke 
 truly — his ship went down in a storm on the Bay 
 of Biscay, and all on board were lost. Then it 
 was that I commenced my journeyings to and fro, 
 to see the little maiden that was growing up in 
 the Convent at Aries. I watched her for sixteen 
 years — and when she reached her seventeenth 
 birthday, I married her and brought her to 
 Norway." 
 
 " And she was Thelma's mother ? " said 
 Errington with interest. 
 
 " She was Thelma's mother," returned the 
 honde, " and she was more beautiful than even 
 Thelma is now. Her education had been almost 
 entirely French, — but, as a child, she had learnt 
 that I generally spoke English, and as there 
 happened to be an English nun in the Convent, 
 she studied that language and mastered it for the 
 love of me — yes ! " he repeated w^ith musing 
 tenderness, " All for the love of me, — for she loved 
 me. Sir Philip — ay ! as passionately as I loved 
 her. and that is saying a great deal ! We lived a 
 solitary happy life, — but we did not mix with our 
 neighbours — our creeds were different, — our ways 
 apart from theirs. We had some time of perfect 
 happiness together. Three years passed before 
 our child was born, and then " — the bonde paused 
 
310 THELMA. 
 
 awhile, and again continued, — " then my wife's 
 health grew frail and uncertain. She liked to be 
 in the fresh air, and was fond of wandering about 
 the hills with her little one in her arms. One 
 day — shall I ever forget it ! when Thelraa was 
 about two and a half years old, I missed them 
 both, and went out to search for them, fearing my 
 wife had lost her way, and knowing that our 
 child could not toddle far without fatigue. I 
 found them " — the honde shuddered — " but how ? 
 My wife had slipped and fallen through a chasm 
 in the rocks, — high enough, indeed, to have killed 
 her, — she was alive, but injured for life. She lay 
 there white and motionless — little Thelma mean- 
 while sat smilingly on the edge of the rock, 
 assuring me that her mother had gone to sleep 
 ' down thereJ Well ! " and Giildmar brushed the 
 back of his hand across his eyes, " to make a long 
 story short, I carried my darling home in my 
 arms a wreck — she lingered for ten years of 
 patient suffering, — ten long years ! She could only 
 move about on crutches, — the beauty of her figure 
 was gone — but the beauty of her face grew more 
 perfect every day ! Never again was she seen on 
 the hills, —and so to the silly folks of Bosekop she 
 seemed to have disappeared. Indeed, I kept her 
 very existence a secret, — I could not endure that 
 others should hear of the destruction of all that 
 marvellous grace and queenly loveliness ! She 
 lived lonff enouo'h to see her daughter blossom 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 311 
 
 into girlhood, — then, — she died. I could not bear 
 to have her laid in the damp, wormy earth — you 
 know in our creed, earth-burial is not practised, — 
 so I laid her tenderly away in a king's tomb of 
 antiquity, — a tomb known only to myself and one 
 who assisted me to lay her in her last resting-place. 
 There she sleeps right royally, — and now is your 
 mind relieved, my lad ? For the reports of the 
 Bosekop folk must certainly have awakened some 
 suspicions in your mind ? " 
 
 " Your story has interested me deeply, sir," 
 said Errington ; " but I assure you I never had 
 any suspicions of you at all. I always disregard 
 gossip — it is generally scandalous, and seldom 
 true. Besides, I took your face on trust, — as you 
 took mine." 
 
 '' Then," declared Giildmar, with a smile, " I 
 have nothing more to say, — except " — and he 
 stretched out both hands — " may the great gods 
 prosper your wooing ! Yon offer a fairer fate to 
 Thelma than I had dreamed of for her — but I 
 know not what the child herself may say " 
 
 Philip interrupted him. His eyes flashed, and 
 he smiled. 
 
 ^- She loves me!" he said simply. Guldmar 
 looked at him, laughed a little, and sighed. 
 
 " She loves thee ? " he said, relapsing into the 
 tJiee and thou he was wont to use with his 
 daughter. " Thou hast lost no time, my lad ? 
 When didst thou find that out ? " 
 
312 THELMA. 
 
 " To-day ! " returned Philip, with that same 
 triumphant smile playing about his lips. " She 
 told me so — yet even now I cannot believe 
 it!" 
 
 " Ah, well, thou mayest believe it truly," said 
 Grlildmar, " for Thelma says nothing that she 
 does not mean I The child has never stooped to 
 even the smallest falsehood." 
 
 Errington seemed lost in a happy dream. 
 Suddenly he roused himself and took Glildmar by 
 the arm. 
 
 *' Come," he said, " let us go to her ! She 
 will wonder why we are so long absent. See ! the 
 storm has cleared — the sun is shining. It is 
 understood ? You will give her to me ? " 
 
 " Foolish lad ! " said Griildmar gently. " What 
 have I to do with it ? She has given herself to 
 thee 1 Love has overwhelmed both of your 
 hearts, and before the strong sweep of such an 
 ocean, what can an old man's life avail ? Nothing 
 — less than nothing ! Besides, I should be happy 
 — if I have regrets, — if I feel the tooth of sorrow 
 biting at my heart — 'tis naught but selfishness. 
 'Tis my own dread of parting with her " — his 
 voice trembled, and his fine face quivered with 
 suppressed emotion. 
 
 Errington pressed his arm. " Our house shall 
 be yours, sir ! " he said eagerly. " Why not leave 
 this place and come with us ? " 
 
 Giildmar shook his head. " Leave Norway ! " 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 313 
 
 he said — " leave the land of my fathers — turn my 
 back on these mountains and fjords and glaciers ? 
 Never! No, no, my lad, — you're kind-hearted 
 and generous as becomes you, and I thank you from 
 my heart. But 'twould be impossible ! I should 
 be like a caged eagle, breaking my wings against 
 the bars of English conventionalities. Besides, 
 young birds must make their nest without inter- 
 ference from the old ones." 
 
 He stepped out on deck as Errington opened 
 the little cabin door, and his features kindled with 
 enthusiasm as he looked on the stretch of dark 
 mountain scenery around him, illumined by the 
 brilliant beams of the sun that shone out now in 
 full splendour, as though in glorious defiance of 
 the retreating storm, which had rolled gradually 
 away in clouds that were tumbling one over the 
 other at the extreme edge of the northern 
 horizon, like vanquished armies taking to hasty 
 flight. 
 
 '* Could I stand the orderly tameness of your 
 green England, think you, after this ? " he ex- 
 claimed, with a comprehensive gesture of his hand. 
 ^' No, no ! When death comes — and 'twill not be 
 long coming — let it find me with my face turned 
 to the mountains, and nothing but their kingly 
 crests between me and the blessed sky ! Come, my 
 lad ! " and he relapsed into his ordinary tone. " If 
 thou art like me when I was thy age, every 
 minute passed away from thy love seems an 
 
314 THELMA. 
 
 eternity ! Let us go to her — we bad best wait 
 till tbe decks are dry before we assemble up here 
 again." 
 
 They descended at once into the saloon, where 
 they found Thelma being initiated into the 
 mysteries of chess by Duprez, while Macfarlane 
 and Lorimer looked idly on. She glanced up 
 from the board as her father and Errington 
 entered, and smiled at them both with a slightly 
 heightened colour. 
 
 " This is such a wonderful game, father ! " she 
 said. " And I am so stupid, I cannot understand 
 it ! So Monsieur Pierre is trying to make me 
 remember the moves." 
 
 " Nothing is easier ! " declared Duprez. " I 
 was showing you how the bishop goes, so — cross- 
 ways," and he illustrated his lesson. " He is a 
 dignitary of the Church, you perceive. Bienl 
 it follows that he cannot go in a straight line, — if 
 you observe them well, you will see that all the 
 religious gentlemen play at cross purposes. You 
 are very quick, Mademoiselle Guldmar,— you have 
 perfectly comprehended the move of the castle, 
 and the pretty plunge of the knight. Now, as I 
 told you, the queen can do anything— all the pieces 
 shiver in their shoes before her I " 
 
 " Why?" she asked, feeling a little embarrassed, 
 as Sir Philip came and sat beside her, looking at 
 her with an undoubtedly composed air of absolute 
 proprietorship. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 315 
 
 " Why ? Eiifin, the reason is simple ! " answered 
 Pierre, " the queen is a woman, — everything must 
 give way to her wish ! " 
 
 " And the king ? " she inquired. 
 
 " Ah ! Le pauvre Boi I He can do very Httle — 
 almost nothing ! He can only move one step at a 
 time, and that with much labour and hesitation — he 
 is the wooden image of Louis XYI. ! " 
 
 " Then," said the girl quickly, " the object of 
 the game is to protect a king who is not worth pro- 
 tecting ! " 
 
 Duprez laughed. " Exactly ! And thus, in this 
 charming game, you have the history of many 
 nations ! Mademoiselle Guldmar has put the 
 matter excellently ! Chess is for those who intend 
 to form republics. All the worry and calculation 
 — all the moves of pawns, bishops, knights, castles, 
 and queen,- — all to shelter the throne which is not 
 worth protecting ! Excellent ! Mademoiselle, you 
 are not in favour of monarchies I " 
 
 " I do not know," said Thelma ; " I have never 
 thought of such things. But kings should be 
 great men, — wise and powerful, better and braver 
 than all their subjects, should they not ? " 
 
 " Undoubtedly ! " remarked Lorimer, " but, it's 
 a curious thing, they seldom are. Now, our queen, 
 God bless her " 
 
 "Hear, hear ! " interrupted Errington, laughing 
 good-humouredly. " I won't have a word said 
 against the dear old lady, Lorimer ! Granted that 
 
316 TIIELMA. 
 
 she hates London, and sees no fun in being stared 
 at by vulgar crowds, I think she's quite right, — and 
 I sympathize heartily with her liking for a cup of 
 tea in peace and quiet with some old Scotch body 
 who doesn't care whether she's a queen or a washer- 
 woman." 
 
 " I think," said Macfarlane slowly, " that 
 royalty has its duties, ye see, an' though I 
 canna say I object to Her Majesty's homely ways 
 o' behavin', still there are a few matters that wad 
 be the better for her pairsonal attention." 
 
 " Oh bother ! " said Errington gaily. " Look 
 at that victim of the nation, the Prince of Wales ! 
 The poor fellow hasn't a moment's peace of his 
 life, — what with laying foundation stones, opening 
 museums, inspecting this and visiting that, he is 
 like a costermonger's donkey, that must gee-up or 
 gee-wo as his master, the people, bid. If he smiles 
 at a woman, it is instantly reported that he's in 
 love with her, — if he frankly says he considers her 
 pretty, there's no end to the scandal. Poor royal 
 wretch ! I pity him from my heart ! The un- 
 washed, beer-drinking, gin-swilling classes who 
 clamour for shortened hours of labour, and want 
 work to be expressly invented for their benefit, 
 don't suffer a bit more than Albert Edward, who is 
 supposed to be rolling idly in the very lap of 
 luxury, and who can hardly call his soul his own. 
 Why, the man can't eat a mutton-chop without 
 there being a paragraph in the papers headed. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 317 
 
 ' Diet of the Prince of Wales.' His life is made 
 an infinite bore to him, I'm positive ! " 
 
 Gruldmar looked thoughtful. *' 1 know little 
 about kings or princes," he said, " but it seems 
 to me, from what I do know, that they have but 
 small power. They are mere puppets. In olden 
 times they possessed supremacy, but now " 
 
 " I will tell you," interrupted Duprez excitedly, 
 " who it is that rules the people in these times, — it 
 is the Pen — Madame la Plume ! A little black, 
 sharp, scratching devil she is, — empress of all 
 nations ! No crown but a point, — no royal robe 
 save ink ! It is certain that as long as Madame la 
 Plume gambols freely over her realms of paper, so 
 long must kings and autocrats shake in their shoes 
 and be uncertain of their thrones. Mon Dieu I if 
 I had but the gift of writing, I would conquer the 
 world ! " 
 
 " There are an immense number of people 
 writing just now, Pierre," remarked Lorimer, with 
 a smile, '' yet they don't do much in the conquering 
 me. 
 
 " Because they are afraid ! " said Duprez. 
 " Because they have not the courage of their 
 opinions ! Because they dare not tell the truth ! " 
 
 " Upon my life, I believe you are right ! " said 
 Errington. " If there were a man bold enough 
 to declare truths and denounce lies, I should 
 imagine it quite possible that he might conquer 
 the world, — or, at any rate, make it afraid of him." 
 
318 THELMA. 
 
 '* But is the world so full of lies ? " asked 
 Thelma timidly. 
 
 Lorimer looked at her gravely. " I fear so, 
 Miss Giildmar ! I think it has a tolerable harvest of 
 them every year, — a harvest, too, that never fails ! 
 But I say, Phil ! Look at the sun shining ! Let 
 us go up on deck, — we shall soon be getting back 
 to the Altenfjord." 
 
 They all rose, threw on their caps, and left the 
 saloon with the exception of Errington, who lin- 
 gered behind, watching his opportunity, and as 
 Thelma followed her father, he called her back 
 softly — 
 
 " Thelma ! " 
 
 She hesitated, and then turned towards him, — 
 her father saw her movement, smiled at her, and 
 nodded kindly, as he passed through the saloon 
 doors and disappeared. With a beating heart, she 
 sprang quickly to her lover's side, and as he caught 
 her in his arms, she whispered — 
 
 " You have told him ? " 
 
 " Your father ? Yes, my darling ! " murmured 
 Philip, as he kissed her sweet upturned lips. '' Be 
 quite happy — he knows everything. Come, Thelma ! 
 tell me again you love me — I have not heard you 
 say it properly yet ! " 
 
 She smiled dreamily as she leaned against his 
 breast and looked up into his eyes. 
 
 " I cannot say it properly ! " she said. '' There 
 is no language for my heart ! If I could tell you 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 319 
 
 all I feel, you would think it foolish, I am sure, 
 because it is all so wild and strange," — she stopped, 
 and her face grew pale, — '* Oh 1 " she murmured 
 with a slight tremor ; " it is terrible ! " 
 
 " What is terrible, my sweet one ? " asked 
 Errington, drawing her more closely, and folding 
 her more tightly in his arms. 
 
 She sighed deeply. " To have no more life of my 
 own ! " she answered, while her low voice quivered 
 with intense feeling. " It has all gone — to you ! 
 And yours has come to me ! — is it not strange and 
 almost sad ? How your heart beats, poor boy ! — I 
 can hear it throb, throb — so fast ! — here, where I. 
 am resting my head." She looked up, and her 
 little white hand caressed his cheek. " Philip," she 
 said very softly, " what are you thinking about ? 
 Your eyes shine so brightly — do you know you 
 have beautiful eyes ? " 
 
 " Have I ? " he murmured abstractedly, looking 
 down on that exquisite, innocent, glowing face, 
 and trembling with the force of the restrained 
 passion that kindled through him. " I don't know 
 about that ! — yours seem to me like two stars fallen 
 from heaven ! Oh, Thelma, my darling ! — God 
 make me worthy of you." 
 
 He spoke with intense fervour, — kissing her 
 with a tenderness, in which there was something 
 of reverence as well as fear. The whole soul of 
 the man was startled and roused to inexpressible 
 devotion by the absolute simplicity and purity of 
 
320 THELMA. 
 
 lier nature — the direct frankness with which she 
 had said her Hfe was his — his ! — and in what way 
 was he fitted to be the guardian and possessor of 
 this white lily from the garden of God ? She was 
 so utterly different to all women as he had known 
 them — as different as a bird of paradise to a com- 
 mon house-sparrow. Meanwhile, as these thoughts 
 flitted through his brain, she moved gently from 
 his embrace and smiled proudly, yet sweetly. 
 
 " Worthy of me ? " she said softly and wonder- 
 ingly. '' It is I that will pray to be made worthy 
 of you ! You must not put it wrongly, Philip 1 " 
 
 He made no answer, but looked at her as she 
 stood before him, majestic as a young empress in 
 her straight, unadorned white gown. 
 
 " Thelma ! " he said suddenly, " do you know 
 how lovely you are ? " 
 
 " Yes ! " she answered simply ; " I know it, 
 because I am like my mother. But it is not any- 
 thing to be beautiful, — unless one is loved, — and 
 then it is different ! I feel much more beautiful 
 now, since you think me pleasant to look at ! " 
 
 Philip laughed and caught her hand. " What 
 a child you are ! " he said. " Now let me see this 
 little finger." And he loosened from his watch- 
 chain a half-hoop ring of brilliants. '^ This 
 belonged to my mother, Thelma," he continued 
 gently, " and since her death I have always 
 carried it about with me. I resolved never to part 
 with it, except to " He paused and slipped 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 321 
 
 it on the third finger of her left hand, where it 
 sparkled bravely. 
 
 She gazed at it in surprise. " You part with 
 it now ? " she asked, with wonder in her accents. 
 " I do not understand ! " 
 
 He kissed her. " No ? I will explain again, 
 Thelma ! — and you shall not laugh at me as you 
 did the very first time I saw you ! I resolved . 
 never to part with this ring, I say, except to — my 
 promised wife. Now do you understand ? " 
 
 She blushed deeply, and her eyes dropped 
 before his ardent gaze. 
 
 " I do thank you very much, Philip," — she 
 faltered timidly, — she was about to say some- 
 thing further when suddenly Lorimer entered the 
 saloon. He glanced from Errington to Thelma, 
 and from Thelma back again to Errington, — and 
 smiled. So have certain brave soldiers been 
 known to smile in face of a death-shot. He ad- 
 vanced with his usual languid step and nonchalant 
 air, and removing his cap, bowed gravely and 
 courteously. 
 
 " Let me be the first to offer my congratulations 
 to the future Lady Errington ! Phil, old man ! . . . 
 I wish you joy ! " 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 21 
 
PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, 
 
 LONDON AND BECCLES. G., C. CT"" Co. 
 

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