Part 25 (2/2)

”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-rus.h.i.+ng 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 s.h.i.+ning 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 flas.h.i.+ng 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 suns.h.i.+ne 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 pus.h.i.+ng 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--

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