They laughed, and then looking up saw that they were pa.s.sing 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 colors flashed with the brilliancy of jewels, reflecting themselves in the pale slate-colored 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 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 sh.o.r.e 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 Guldmar very seriously. "If any sailor pa.s.ses at midnight, and sees them or hears their cries, he is doomed."
"But _does_ he see or hear them?" asked Errington, with a smile.
"Well, I don"t know," returned Guldmar, with a grave shake of his head.
"I"m not superst.i.tious myself, but I should be sorry to say anything against the berg-folk. You see they _may_ exist, and it"s no use offending 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 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 h.e.l.l. Know you not the description of _Nifleheim_ 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. "I"ll tell my aunt in Glasgie aboot it. This Nifleheim wad suit her pairfectly,--she wad send a" her relations there wi" tourist tickets, not available 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 I can never settle is,--which is the right one?"
"Would you follow it if you knew?" 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 somehow.
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 _are_ 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 Guldmar--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 _Eulalie_ resumed her usual speed, and bore swiftly on towards Soroe.
This island, dreary and dark in the distance, grew 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 Valdemar 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 stalact.i.tes.
"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 color and appeared confused; moreover, he removed his red cap altogether when he answered the _bonde_, to whom he spoke deferentially 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 offense 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 exception."
"And that exception?" asked Errington with some interest.
"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 Guldmar 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 Valdemar"s obedience yet, nor do I think I am likely to do so for some time. He is a fine, faithful 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 others,--though it was noticeable that during the rest of the day the _bonde_ was rather abstracted and serious,--and that every now and then his eyes rested on his daughter"s face with an expression of tender yearning and melancholy.
It was about two hours after luncheon that the _Eulalie_ approached the creek spoken of by the pilot, and they were all fascinated by the loveliness as well 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 pa.s.sage 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 fortresses 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 Valdemar Svensen directed their attention. 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 was easily effected, and they walked toward the cavern, treading on thousands of beautiful little sh.e.l.ls 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 seabirds refused to make their homes in the black clefts of such steep and barren rocks.
At the entrance of the little cave Guldmar 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 sovereignty, 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 themselves within it. The smoky crimson flare illuminated what seemed at a first glance to be a miniature fairy palace studded thickly with cl.u.s.ters of diamonds. Long pointed stalact.i.tes hung from the roof at almost mathematically even distances from one another,--the walls glistened with varying 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 stalact.i.tes had cl.u.s.tered into the shape of a large chair overhung by a canopy, and Duprez perceiving it, exclaimed--he listened, and seemed satisfied; then, turning away, he linked his arm through Philip"s, and said,
"_Voila!_ A queen"s throne! Come Mademoiselle Guldmar, you must sit in it!"
"But I am not a queen," laughed Thelma. "A throne is for a king--will not Sir Phillip sit there?"
"There"s a compliment for you, Phil!" cried Lorrimer, 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 us 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 appalling winder in her troubled eyes. He whispered, "come, Queen Thelma!" As in a dream, she allowed him to lead her to the stalact.i.te chair, and when she was seated therein, she endeavored 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 look just fine!" said Macfarlane with undisguised delight. "Ye"d mak" a grand picture, wouldn"t she, Errington?"
Phillip gazed at her, but said nothing--his head was too full. Sitting there among the glittering, intertwisted, and suspended rocks,--with the blaze from the torches flashing on her winsome face and luxuriant hair,--with that half-troubled, half-happy 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 pa.s.sionate emotion among the old-world heroes than she unconsciously excited at that moment in the minds of all who beheld her. Duprez for once understood what it was to reverence a woman"s beauty, and decided that the flippant language of compliment was out of place--he therefore said nothing, and Lorrimer, too, was silent battling bravely against the wild desires that were now, in his opinion, nothing but disloyalty to his friend. Old Guldmar"s hearty voice roused 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 Errington should have a chance. "Come on, Mac! _Allons, marchons_,--Pierre! Mr. Guldmar exacts our obedience! Phil, you take care of the queen!"
And skillfully pushing on Duprez and Macfarlane before him, he followed Guldmar, who preceded them all,--thus leaving his friend in a momentary comparative solitude with Thelma. The girl was a little startled as she saw them thus taking their departure, and sprang up from her stalact.i.te throne in haste. Sir Philip had laid aside his torch in order to a.s.sist her with both hands to descend the sloping rocks; but her embarra.s.sment 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 pa.s.sionately 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 feeling 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 stalact.i.te 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--