Part 24 (2/2)
”What highly moral converse is going on here?” inquired Lorimer, strolling leisurely up to them. ”Are you giving Duprez a lecture, Miss Guldmar? 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 foolis.h.!.+” 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 something 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 Guldmar?”
”Yes,” she answered slowly and meditatively. ”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 Guldmar, ”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-defense 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 handshaking and salutations which followed, the conversation took a different turn, for which Lorimer was devoutly thankful. His face was a tell-tale one,--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 herself too warm with her pretty crimson hood,--she therefore unfastened it and let the suns.h.i.+ne 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 _bonde_.
”It is what I have wondered at all my life,” said he, ”that skill of the brush dipped in color. Pictures surprise me as much 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. Warmth, color, 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 Guldmar 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 _my_ mind, at least,--that countries 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 sh.o.r.e each year. That's the way I used to amuse myself when I was young,--now I am old, the sea tempts me less, and I am 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 harvest 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 la.s.sie makin' up to me. There's nae bashfulness in they sort, and nae safety.”
”I will go to Scotland!” said Duprez enthusiastically. ”I feel that those--what do you call them, _la.s.sies_?--will charm, me!”
”Scotland I never saw,” said Guldmar. ”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 suns.h.i.+ny stretch of country such as France, or the plains of Lombardy. Of course there may be exceptions, but I tell you 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 superst.i.tion 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 clergyman--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 Guldmar.
I am an advocate of the Law of Nothing. I remember a worthy philosopher who,--when he was in his cups,--earnestly a.s.sured me it was all right--'everything was nothing, and nothing was everything.' 'You are sure that is so?' I would say to him. 'My dear young friend--_hic_--I am positive! I have--_hic_--worked out the problem with--_hic_--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.”
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