Part 25 (1/2)

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,