THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Mary Randall 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN 
 
 BY 
 
 EDNA LYALL, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " DONOVAN," " WE Two,' 1 " KNIGHT-ERRANT," 
 ETC., ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK : 
 
 JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, 
 150 WORTH STREET, CORNER MISSION PLACE. 
 
GIFT 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 "You say your things are all ready, Cecil ? Then I'll 
 just go below and do up my Gladstone, and put it in your 
 cabin. We shall be at Bergen before long, they say." 
 
 The speaker was a young Englishman of three or four- 
 and-twenty, and the sister addressed by him was still in 
 the first flush of girlhood, having but a few days before 
 celebrated her nineteenth birthday. 
 
 " Let me see to your bag, Roy," she exclaimed. "It is 
 a shame that you should miss this lovely bit of the fjord, 
 and I shall do it in half the time." 
 
 " The conceit of women !" he exclaimed with a smile, 
 in which brotherly love and the spirit of teasing were about 
 equally blended. " No, no, Cis, I'm not going to let you 
 spoil me. I shall be up again in ten minutes. Have you 
 not made any friends here ? Is there no one on deck you 
 can talk to ?" 
 
 " I don't want to talk," said Cecil. "Truth to tell, I 
 am longing to get away from all these English people. 
 Very unsociable of me, isn't it?" 
 
 Roy Boniface turned away with a smile, understanding 
 her feeling well enough, and Cecil, with her back to the 
 chaterring tourist throng, let her eyes roam over the shin- 
 ing waters of the fjord to the craggy mountains on the 
 further shore, whose ever varying forms had been delight, 
 ing her since the early morning. 
 
 M854J.56 
 
4 A HARD Y NORSEMAN. 
 
 She herself made a fair picture, though her beauty was 
 not of the order which quickly draws attention. There was 
 nothing very striking in her regular features, fair com- 
 plexion, and light-brown hair; to a casual observer she 
 would have seemed merely an average English girl, gentle, 
 well-mannered and nice-looking. It was only to those who 
 took pains to study her that her true nature was revealed ; 
 only at times that her quiet gray eyes would flash into 
 sudden beauty with the pleasure of meeting with some rare 
 and unexpected sympathy ; only in some special need that 
 the force of her naturally retiring nature made itself felt as 
 a great influence. 
 
 Cecil had passed a year of emancipated girlhood, she 
 had for a whole year been her own mistress, had had time 
 and money at her disposal, and no special duties to take 
 the place of her school-work. It was the time she had 
 been looking forward to all her life, the blissful time of 
 grown-up freedom, and now that it had come it had 
 proved a disappointing illusion. Whether the fault was in 
 herself or in her circumstances she did not know ; but like 
 so many girls of her age, she was looking out on life with 
 puzzled eyes, hardly knowing what it was that had gone 
 amiss, yet conscious of a great want, of a great unrest, of a 
 vague dissatisfaction which would not be reasoned down. 
 
 " Cecil is looking poorly," had been the home verdict ; 
 and the mother, not fully understanding the cause, but 
 with a true instinct as to the remedy, had suggested that 
 the brother and sister should spend a month abroad, 
 grieving to lose Cecil from the usual family visit to the 
 seaside, but perceiving with a mother's wisdom and unself- 
 ishness that it was time, as she expressed it, for her young 
 one to try its wings. 
 
 So the big steamer plied its way up the fjord, bearing 
 Cecil Boniface and her small troubles and perplexities to 
 healthy old Norway, to gain there fresh physical strength, 
 and fresh insights into that puzzling thing called life ; to 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 5 
 
 make friendships, spite of her avowed unsociableness, to 
 learn something more of the beauty of beauty, the joy of 
 joy, and the pain of pain. 
 
 She was no student of human nature ; at present with 
 girlish impatience she turned away from the tourists, 
 frankly avowing her conviction that they were a bore. She 
 was willing to let her fancy roam to the fortunes of some 
 imaginary Rolf and Erica, living, perhaps, in some one or 
 other of the solitary red-roofed cottages to be seen now and 
 then on the mountain-side , but the average English life 
 displayed on the deck did not in the least awaken her 
 sympathies, she merely classified the passengers into rough 
 groups and dismissed them from her mind. There was 
 the photographic group, fraternizing over the cameras set 
 up all in a little encampment at the forecastle end. There 
 was the clerical group, which had for its centre no fewer 
 than five gaitered bishops. There was the sporting group, 
 distinguished by light-brown checked suits, and comfort- 
 able traveling-caps. There was the usual sprinkling of 
 pale, weary, overworked men and women come for a much- 
 needed rest. And there was the flirting group a notably 
 small one, however, for Norwegian traveling is rough work 
 and is ill-suited to this genus. 
 
 " Look here, Blanche, "exclaimed a gray-bearded English- 
 man, approaching a pretty little brunette who had a most 
 sweet and winsome expression, and who was standing so 
 near to the camp-stool on which Cecil had ensconced 
 herself, that the conversation was quite audible to her. 
 " Just see if you can make out this writing, your eyes are 
 better than mine. It is from Herr Falck, the Norwegian 
 agent for our firm. I dare say your father told you about 
 him." 
 
 " Yes, papa said he was one of the leading merchants 
 out here, and would advise us what to see, and where to go." 
 
 " Quite so. This letter reached me just as I was leaving 
 home, and is to say that Herr Falck has taken rooms for 
 
6 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 us at some hotel. I can read it all well enough except the 
 names, but the fellow makes such outrageous flourishes. 
 What do you make of this sentence, beginning with ' My 
 son Frithiof'?" 
 
 " Uncle ! uncle ! what shocking pronunciation ! You 
 must not put in an English ' th.' Did you never hear of 
 the Frithiof Saga ? You must say it quickly like this 
 Freet-Yoff." 
 
 " A most romantic name," said Mr. Morgan. " Now I 
 see why you have been so industrious over your Nor- 
 wegian lessons. You mean to carry on a desperate flirta- 
 tion with Herr Frithiof. Oh ! that is quite clear I shall 
 be on the lookout ! " 
 
 Blanche laughed, not at all resenting the remark, though 
 she bent her pretty face over the letter, and pretented to 
 have great difficulty in reading Herr Falck's very excellent 
 English. 
 
 " Do you want to hear this sentence ? " she said, " because 
 if you do I'll read it." 
 
 " My son Frithiof will do himself the honour to await 
 your arrival at Bergen on the landing-quay, and will drive 
 you to Holdt's Hotel, where we have procured the rooms 
 you desired. My daughter Sigrid (See-gree) is eager to 
 make the acquaintance of your daughter and your niece, 
 and if you will all dine with us at two o'clock on Friday 
 at my villa in Kalvedalen, we shall esteem it a great plea- 
 sured " 
 
 " Two o'clock dinner ! " exclaimed Florence Morgan, for 
 the first time joining in the general conversation. " What 
 an unheard-of hour ! " 
 
 " Oh ! everything is primitive simplicity out here," said 
 Mr. Morgan. " You needn't expect London fashions." 
 
 " I suppose Frithiof Falck will be a sort of young Viking, 
 large-boned and dignified, with a kind of good-natured 
 fierceness about him," said Blanche, folding the letter. 
 
 " No, no," said Florence, " he'll be a shy, stupid country 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 7 
 
 bumpkin, afraid of airing his bad English, and you will 
 step valiantly into the breach with your fluent Norwegian, 
 and your kindness will win his heart. Then presently he 
 will come up in his artless and primitive way with a Vaer 
 saa god (if you please), and will take your hand. You 
 will reply Mange tak (many thanks), and we shall all joy- 
 fully dance at your wedding." 
 
 There was general laughter, and some trifling bets were 
 made upon the vexed question of Frithiof Falck's appear- 
 ance. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Morgan, " it's all very well to laugh 
 now, but I hope you'll be civil to the Falcks when we really 
 meet. And as to you, Cyril," he continued, turning to his 
 nephew, a limp looking young man of one-and-twenty, 
 " get all the information you can out of young Falck, but 
 on no account allow him to know that your father is 
 seriously thinking of setting you at the head of the pro- 
 posed branch at Stavanger. When that does come about, 
 of course Herr Falck will lose our custom, and no doubt 
 it will be a blow to him ; so mind you don't breathe a word 
 about it, nor you either, girls. We don't want to spoil our 
 holiday with business matters, and, besides, one should 
 always consider other people's feelings." 
 
 Cecil set her teeth and the colour rose to her cheeks ; 
 she moved away to the other side of the deck that she 
 might not hear any more. 
 
 " What hateful people ! they don't care a bit for the kind- 
 ness and hospitality of these Norwegians. They only mean 
 just to use them as a convenience." Then as her brother 
 rejoined her she exclaimed, " Roy, who are those vulgar 
 people over on the other side ? " 
 
 "With two pretty girls in blue ulsters? I think the 
 name is Morgan, rich city people. The old man's not 
 bad, but the young one's a born snob. What do you 
 think I heard him say as he was writing his name in the 
 book and caught sight of ours. ' Why, Robert Boniface 
 
8 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 that must be the music shop in Regent Street. Norway 
 will soon be spoiled if all the cads take to coming over.' 
 And there was I within two yards of him." 
 
 " Oh, Roy ! he couldn't have known or he would never 
 have said it." 
 
 " Oh, yes, he knew it well enough. It was meant for a 
 snub, richly deserved by the presuming tradesman who 
 dared to come to Norway for his holiday instead of eating 
 shrimps at Margate, as such cattle should, you know ! " 
 and Roy laughed good-humouredly. Snubs had a way of 
 gliding off him like water off a duck's back. 
 
 " I should have hated it," said Cecil. " What did you 
 do?" 
 
 " Nothing ; studied Baedeker with an imperturbable face, 
 and reflected sapiently with William of Wykeham that 
 neither birth nor calling but 'manners maketh man.' But 
 look ! this must be Bergen. What a glorious view ! If 
 only you had time to sketch it just from here ! " 
 
 Cecil, after one quick exclamation of delight, was quite 
 silent, for indeed few people can see unmoved that exquisite 
 view which is unfolded before them as they round the 
 fjord, and catch the first glimpse of the most beautiful town 
 in Norway. Had she been alone she would have allowed 
 the tears of happiness to come into her eyes, but being on 
 a crowded steamer she fought down her emotion, and 
 watched in a sort of dream of delight the picturesque 
 wooden houses, the red-tiled roofs, the quaint towers and 
 spires, the clear still fjord, with its forest of masts and rig- 
 ging, and the mountains rising steep and sheer, encircling 
 Bergen like so many hoary old giants who had vowed to 
 protect the town. 
 
 Meanwhile, the deck resounded with those comments 
 which are so very irritating to most lovers of scenery ; one 
 long-haired aesthete gave vent to a fresh adjective of 
 admiration about once a minute, till Roy and Cecil were 
 forced to flee from him and to take refuge among the sport- 
 
A HARD Y NORSEMAN. 9 
 
 ing fraternity, who occasionally admitted frankly that it 
 was " a fine view," but who obtruded their personality far 
 less upon their companions. 
 
 " Oh, Roy, how we shall enjoy it all ! " said Cecil as 
 they drew near to the crowded landing-quay. 
 
 " I think we shall fit in, Cis," he said, smiling. " Thank 
 Heaven, you don't take your pleasure after the manner of 
 that fellow. If I were his traveling companion I should 
 throttle him in a week." 
 
 " Or suggest a muzzle," said Cecil, laughing ; " that would 
 save both his neck and your feelings." 
 
 " Let me have your key," he said, as they approached 
 the wooden pier ; " the custom house people will be 
 coming on board, and I will try to get our things looked 
 over quickly. Wait here, and then I shall not miss you." 
 
 He hastened away, and Cecil scanned with curious eyes 
 the faces of the little crowd gathered on the landing-quay, 
 till her attention was arrested by a young Norwegian 
 in a light-gray suit, who stood laughing and talking to 
 an acquaintance on the wooden wharf. He was tall and 
 broad-shouldered, with something unusually erect and ener- 
 getic in his bearing ; his features were of the pure Greek 
 type not unfrequently to be met with in Norway ; while 
 his northern birth was attested by a fair skin and light hair 
 and mustache, as well as by a pair of honest, well-opened 
 blue eyes which looked out on the world with a boyish con- 
 tent and happiness. 
 
 " I believe that is Frithiof Falck," thought Cecil. And 
 the next moment her idea was confirmed, for as the con- 
 necting gangway was raised from the quay, one of the 
 steamer officials greeted him by name, and the young Nor- 
 wegian, replying in very good English, stepped on board 
 and began looking about as if in search of some one. Invo- 
 luntarily Cecil's eyes followed him ; she had a strange feel- 
 ing that in some way she knew him, knew him far better 
 than the people he had come to meet. He, too, seemed 
 
10 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 affected in the same way, for he came straight up to her, 
 and, raising his hat and bowing, said with frank courtesy : 
 
 " Pardon me, but am I speaking to Miss Morgan ? ' 
 
 " I think the Miss Morgans are at the other side of the 
 gangway; I saw them a minute ago," she said, colouring a 
 little. 
 
 "A thousand pardons for my mistake," said Frithiof 
 Falck. " I came to meet this English family, you under- 
 stand, but I have never seen them." 
 
 " There is Miss Morgan," exclaimed Cecil ; " that lady 
 in the blue ulster; and there is her uncle just joining her." 
 
 " Many thanks for your kind help," said Frithiof, and 
 with a second bow and a smile from his frank eyes he 
 passed on and approached Mr. Morgan. 
 
 " Welcome to Norway, sir," he exclaimed, greeting the 
 traveler with the easy courteous manner peculiar to Nor- 
 wegians. " I hope you have made a good voyage." 
 
 "Oh, how do you do, Mr. Falck?" said the English- 
 man, scanning him from head to foot as he shook hands, 
 and speaking very loud, as if the foreigner were deaf. 
 " Very good of you to meet us, I'm sure. My niece, Miss 
 Blanche Morgan." 
 
 Frithiof bowed, and his heart began to beat fast as a pair 
 of most lovely dark-gray eyes gave him such a glance as he 
 had never before received. 
 
 " My sister is much looking forward to the pleasure of 
 making your acquaintance." 
 
 " Ah ! " exclaimed Blanche, " how beautifully you speak 
 English ! And how you will laugh at me when I tell you 
 that I have been learning Norwegian for fear there should 
 be dead silence between us." 
 
 " Indeed, there is nothing which pleases us so much as 
 that you should learn our tongue," he said, smiling. " My 
 English is just now in its zenith, for I passed the winter 
 with an English clergyman at Hanover for the sake of 
 improving it." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN-. II 
 
 " But why not have come to England ? " said Blanche. 
 
 " Well, I had before that been with a German family at 
 Hanover to perfect myself in German, and I liked the place 
 well, and this Englishman was very pleasant, so I thought 
 if I stayed there it would be ' to kill two flies with one 
 dash,' as we say in Norway. When I come to England 
 that will be for a holiday, for nothing at all but pleasure." 
 
 " Let me introduce my nephew," said Mr. Morgan, as 
 Cyril strolled up. " And this is my daughter. How now, 
 Florence, have you found your boxes ? " 
 
 "Allow me," said Frithiof; "if you will tell me what to 
 look for I will see that the hotel porter takes it all." 
 
 There was a general adjournment to the region of push- 
 ing and confusion and luggage, and before long Frithiof 
 had taken the travelers to his father's carriage, and they 
 were driving through the long, picturesque Strand-gaden. 
 Very few vehicles passed through this main street, but 
 throngs of pedestrians walked leisurely along, or stood in 
 groups talking and laughing, the women chiefly wearing 
 full skirts of dark-blue serge, short jackets to match, and 
 little round blue serge hoods surmounting their clean white 
 caps j the men also in dark-blue with broad felt hats. 
 
 To English visitors there is an indescribable charm in 
 the primitive simplicity, the easy informality of the place ; 
 and Frithiof was well content with the delighted exclama- 
 tions of the new-comers. 
 
 " What charming ponies ! " cried Blanche. " Look how 
 oddly their manes are cut short manes and long tails ! 
 How funny ! we do just the opposite. And they all seem 
 cream-colored." 
 
 " This side, Blanche, quick ! A lot of peasants in 
 sabots ! and oh ! just look at those lovely red gables ! " 
 
 " How nice the people look, too, so different to people 
 in an English street. What makes you all so happy over 
 here ? " 
 
 " Why, what should make us unhappy ? " said Frithiof. 
 
12 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " We love our country and our town, we are the freest 
 people in the world, and life is a great pleasure in itself, 
 don't you think ? But away in the mountains our people 
 are much more grave. Life is too lonely there. Here in 
 Bergen it is perfection." 
 
 Cyril Morgan regarded the speaker with a pitying eye, 
 and perhaps would have enlightened his absurd ignorance 
 and discoursed of Pall Mall and Piccadilly, had not they 
 just then arrived at Holdt's Hotel. Frithiof merely waited 
 to see that they approved of their rooms, gave them the 
 necessary information as to bankers and lionizing, received 
 Mr. Morgan's assurance that the whole party would dine 
 at Herr Falck's the next day, and then, having previously 
 dismissed the carriage, set out at a brisker pace than usual 
 on his walk home. 
 
 Blanche Morgan's surprise at the happy-looking people 
 somehow amused him. Was it then an out-of-the-way 
 thing for people to enjoy life? For his own part mere 
 existence satisfied him. But then he was as yet quite 
 unacquainted with trouble. The death of his mother 
 when he was only eleven years old had been at the time a 
 great grief, but it had in no way clouded his after-life ; he 
 had been scarcely old enough to realize the greatness of 
 his loss. Its effect had been to make him cling more 
 closely to those who were left to him to his father, to his 
 twin-sister Sigrid, and to the little baby Swanhild (Svarn- 
 heel), whose birth had cost so much. The home life was 
 an extremely happy one to look back on, and now that his 
 year of absence was over and his education finished, it 
 seemed to him that all was exactly as he would have it. 
 Faintly in the distance he looked forward to further success 
 and happiness ; being a fervent patriot, he hoped some day 
 to be a king's minister the summit of a Norwegian's 
 ambition ; and being human he had visions of an ideal 
 wife and an ideal home of his own. But the political 
 career could very well wait, and the wife too for the matter 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 13 
 
 o/ that. And yet, as he walked rapidly along Kong Oscars 
 Gade, through the Stadsport, and past the picturesque 
 cemeteries which lie on either side of the road, he saw 
 nothing at all but a vision of the beautiful dark gray eyes 
 which had glanced up at him so often that afternoon, and 
 in his mind there echoed the words of one of Bjornson's 
 poems : 
 
 " To -day is just a day to my mind, 
 All sunny before and sunny behind, 
 Over the heather." 
 
 But the ending of the poem he had quite forgotten. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 HERR FALCK lived in one of the pretty, unpretentious 
 houses in Kalvedalen, which are chiefly owned by the rich 
 merchants of Bergen. The house stood on the right-hand 
 side of the road, surrounded by a pretty little garden ; it 
 was painted a light-brown colour, and, like most Bergen 
 houses, it was built of wood. In the windows one could 
 see flowers, and beyond them white muslin curtains, for 
 aestheticism had not yet penetrated to Norway. The dark- 
 tiled roof was outlined against a wooded hill rising imme- 
 diately behind, with here and there gray rocks peeping 
 through the summer green of the trees, while in front the 
 chief windows looked on to a pretty terrace with carefully 
 kept flower-beds, then down the wooded hill-side to the 
 lake below the Lungegaardsvand, with purple and gray 
 heights on the further shore, and on one side a break in 
 the chain of mountains and a lovely stretch of open 
 country. To the extreme left was the giant Ulriken, 
 sometimes shining and glistening, sometimes frowning and 
 dark, but always beautiful ; while to the right you caught 
 a glimpse of Bergen with its quaint cathedral tower, and 
 away in the distance the fjord like a shining silver band in 
 the sun. 
 
14 A HARDY NORSEMAN'. 
 
 As Frithiof walked along the grassy terrace he could 
 hear sounds of music floating from the house ; some one 
 was playing a most inspiriting waltz, and as soon as he had 
 reached the open French window of his father's study, a 
 quaint pair of dancers became visible. A slim little girl of 
 ten years old, with very short petticoats, and very long 
 golden hair braided into a pig- tail, held by the front pa.ws 
 a fine Esquimaux dog, who seemed quite to enter into the 
 fun, and danced and capered most cleverly, obediently 
 keeping his long pointed nose over his partner's shoulder. 
 The effect was so comical that Frithiof stood laughingly by 
 to watch the performance for fully half a minute, then, 
 unable to resist his own desire to dance, he unceremo- 
 niously called Lillo, the dog, away, and whirled off little 
 Swanhild in the rapid waltz which Norwegians delight in. 
 The languid grace of a London ball-room would have had 
 no charms for him ; his dancing was full of fire and impe- 
 tuosity, and Swanhild, too, danced very well ; it had come 
 to them both as naturally as breathing. 
 
 " This is better than Lillo," admitted the child. " Some- 
 how he's so dreadful heavy to get round. Have the 
 English people come ? What are they like ? " 
 
 "Oh, they're middling," said Frithiof, "all except the 
 niece, and she is charming." 
 
 " Is she pretty ? " 
 
 " Prettier than any one you ever saw in your life." 
 
 " Not prettier than Sigrid ? " said the little sister confi- 
 dently. 
 
 " Wait till you see," said Frithiof. " She is a brunette 
 and perfectly lovely. There now ! " as the music ceased, 
 " Sigrid has felt her left ear burning, and knows that we 
 are speaking evil of her. Let us come to confess." 
 
 With his arm still round the child he entered the pretty, 
 bright-looking room to the right. Sigrid was still at the 
 piano, but she had heard his voice and had turned round 
 with eager expectation in her face. The brother and sister 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 15 
 
 were very much alike ; each had the same well-cut Greek 
 features, but Frithiof's face was broader and stronger, and 
 you could tell at a glance that he was the more intellectual 
 of the two. On the other hand, Sigrid possessed a delight- 
 ful fund of quiet common sense, and her judgment was 
 seldom at fault, while, like most Norwegian girls, she had 
 a most charmingly simple manner, and an unaffected light- 
 heartedness which it did one good to see. 
 
 " Well ! what news ? " she exclaimed. " Have they 
 come all right ? Are they nice ? " 
 
 " Nice is not the word ! Charming ! beautiful ! To- 
 morrow you will see if I have spoken too strongly." 
 
 " He says she is even prettier than you, Sigrid," said 
 Swanhild mischievously. " Prettier than any one we ever 
 saw ! " 
 
 "She? Which of them ?" 
 
 " Miss Blanche Morgan, the daughter of the head of the 
 firm, you know." 
 
 " And the other one?" 
 
 " I hardly know, I didn't look at her much ; the others 
 all seemed to me much like ordinary English tourists. 
 But she ! Well, you will see to-morrow." 
 
 " How I wish they were coming to-night ! you make me 
 quite curious. And father seems so excited about their 
 coming. I have not seen him so much pleased about 
 anything for a long time." 
 
 "Is he at home?" 
 
 " No, he went for a walk ; his head was bad again. 
 That is the only thing that troubles me about him, his 
 headaches seem to have become almost chronic this last 
 year." 
 
 A shade came over her bright face, and Frithiof, too, 
 looked grave. 
 
 " He works very much too hard," he said ; " but as soon 
 as I come of age and am taken into partnership, he will be 
 more free to take a thorough rest. At present I might 
 
16 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 just as well be in Germany as far as work goes, for he will 
 hardly let me do anything to help him." 
 
 " Here he comes, here he comes ! " cried Swanhild, who 
 had wandered away to the window, and with one accord 
 they all ran out to meet the head of the house, Lillo 
 bounding on in front and springing up at his master with 
 a loving greeting. 
 
 Herr Falck was a very pleasant-looking man of about 
 fifty ; he had the same well-chiseled features as Frithiof, 
 the same broad forehead, clearly marked, level brows, and 
 flexible lips, but his eyes had more of gray and less of 
 blue in them, and a practised observer would have detected 
 in their keen glance an anxiety which could not wholly 
 disguise itself. His hair and whiskers were iron-gray, and 
 he was an inch or two shorter than his son. They all 
 stood talking together at the door, the English visitors still 
 forming the staple of conversation, and the anxiety giving 
 place to eager hope in Herr Falck's eyes, as Frithiof once 
 more sung the praises of Blanche Morgan. 
 
 " Have they formed any plan for their tour ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " No, they mean to talk it over with you and get your 
 advice. They all professed to have a horror of Baedeker, 
 though even with your help I don't think they will get far 
 without him." 
 
 " It is certain that they will not want to stay very long 
 in our Bergen," said Herr Falck ; " the English never do. 
 What should you say now if you all took your summer 
 outing at once, and settled down at Ulvick or Balholm for 
 a few weeks, then you would be able to see a little of our 
 friends, and could start them well on their tour." 
 
 " What a delightful plan, little father ! " cried Sigrid. 
 " Only you must come too, or we shall none of us enjoy 
 it." 
 
 " I would run over for the Sunday, perhaps ; that would 
 be as much as I could manage ; but Frithiof will be there 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 17 
 
 to take care of you. What should you want with a care- 
 worn old man like me, now that he is at home again ? " 
 
 " You fish for compliments, little father," said Sigrid, 
 slipping her arm within his, and giving him one of those 
 mute caresses which are so much more eloquent than 
 words. " But, quite between ourselves, though Frithiof is 
 all very well, I shan't enjoy it a bit without you." 
 
 "Yes, yes, father dear," said Swanhild, " indeed you 
 must come, for Frithiof he will be just no good at all, he 
 will be sure to dance always with the pretty Miss Morgan, 
 and to row her about on the fjord all day, just as he did 
 those pretty girls at Norheimsund and Faleide." 
 
 The innocent earnestness of the child's tone made them 
 all laugh, and Frithiof, vowing vengeance on her for her 
 speech, chased her round and round the garden, their 
 laughter floating back to Herr Falck and Sigrid as they 
 entered the house. 
 
 " The little minx ! " said Herr Falck. " How innocently 
 she said it, too ! I don't think our boy is such a desperate 
 flirt though. As far as I remember, there was nothing 
 more than a sort of boy and girl friendship at either 
 place." 
 
 " Oh, no," said Sigrid, smiling. " Frithiof was too 
 much of a school-boy, every one liked him and he liked 
 every one. I don't think he is the sort of man to fall in 
 love easily." 
 
 " No, but when it does come it will be a serious affair. 
 I very much wish to see him happily married." 
 
 " Oh, father ! surely not yet. He is so young, we can't 
 spare him yet." 
 
 Herr Falck threw himself back in his arm-chair, and 
 mused for a few minutes. 
 
 " One need not necessarily lose him," he replied, " and 
 you know, Sigrid, I am a believer in early marriages at 
 least for my son ; I will not say too much about you, little 
 woman, for as a matter of fact I don't know how I should 
 ever spare you." 
 
1 8 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 11 Don't be afraid, little father ; you may be very sure I 
 sha'n't marry till I see a reasonable chance of being happier 
 than I am at home with you. And when will that be, do 
 you think ? " 
 
 He stroked her golden hair tenderly. 
 
 " Not just yet, Sigrid, let us hope. Not just yet. As 
 to our Frithiof, shall I tell you of the palace in cloud-land 
 I am building for him ? " 
 
 " Not that he should marry the pretty Miss Morgan, as 
 Swanhild calls her ? " said Sigrid, with a strange sinking at 
 the heart. 
 
 " Why not ? I hear that she is a charming girl, both 
 clever and beautiful, and indeed it seems to me that he is 
 quite disposed to fall in love with her at first sight. Of 
 course were he not properly in love I should never wish 
 him to marry ; but I own that a union between the two 
 houses would be a great pleasure to me a great relief." 
 
 He sighed, and for the first time the anxious look in his 
 eyes attracted Sigrid's notice. 
 
 " Father, dear," she exclaimed, " won't you tell me what 
 is troubling you ? There is something, I think. Tell me, 
 little father." 
 
 He looked startled, and a slight flush spread over his 
 face ; but when he spoke his voice was reassuring. 
 
 " A business man often has anxieties which can not be 
 spoken of, dear child. God knows they weigh lightly 
 enough on some men ; I think I am growing old, Sigrid, 
 and perhaps I have never learned to take things so easily 
 as most merchants do." 
 
 " Why, father, you were only fifty last birthday ; you 
 must not talk yet of growing old. How do other men 
 learn, do you think, to take things lightly ? " 
 
 " By refusing to listen to their own conscience," said 
 Herr Falck, with sudden vehemence. " By allowing them- 
 selves .to hold one standard of honour in private life and a 
 very different standard in business transactions. Oh, 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 19 
 
 Sigrid ! I would give a great deal to find some other 
 opening for Frithiof. I dread the life for him." 
 
 " Do you think it is really so hard to be strictly honour- 
 able in business life ? And yet it is a life that must be 
 lived ; and is it not better that such a a man as Frithiof 
 should take it up a man with such a high sense of 
 honour ? " 
 
 " You don't know what business men have to stand 
 against," said Herr Falck. " Frithiof is a good, honest 
 fellow, but as yet he has seen nothing of life. And I tell 
 you, child, we often fail in our strongest point." 
 
 He rose from his chair and paced the room ; it seemed 
 to Sigrid that a nameless shadow had fallen on their sunny 
 home. She was for the first time in her life afraid, though 
 the fear was vague and undefined. 
 
 " But there, little one," said her father, turning toward 
 her again. " You must not be worried. I get nervous 
 and depressed, that is all. As I told you, I am growing 
 old." 
 
 " Frithiof would like to help you more if you would let 
 him," said Sigrid, rather wistfully. " He was saying so 
 just now." 
 
 " And so he shall in the autumn. He is a good lad, and 
 if all goes well I hope he will some day be my right hand in 
 the business ; but I wish him to have a few months' holiday 
 first. And there is this one thing, Sigrid, which I can 
 tell you, if you really want to know about my anxieties." 
 
 " Indeed I do, little father," she said eagerly. 
 
 " There are many matters which you would not under- 
 stand even could I speak of them ; but you know, of course, 
 that I am agent in Norway for the firm of Morgan Bro- 
 thers. Well, a rumour has reached me that they intend to 
 break off the connection and to send out the eldest son to 
 set up a branch at Stavanger. It is a mere rumour, and 
 reached me quite accidentally. I very much hope it may 
 not be true, but there is no denying that Stavanger would 
 
20 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 be in most ways better suited for their purpose ; in fact, 
 the friend who told me of the rumour said that they felt now 
 that it had been a mistake all along to have the agency 
 here, and they had only done it because they knew Bergen 
 and knew me." 
 
 " Why is Stavanger a better place for it ? " 
 
 " It is better because most of the salmon and lobsters 
 are caught in the neighbourhood of Stavanger, and all the 
 mackerel, too, to the south of Bergen. I very much hope 
 the rumour is not true, for it would be a great blow to me 
 to lose the English connection. Still it is not unlikely, 
 and the times are hard now very hard." 
 
 " And you think your palace in cloud-land for Frithiof 
 would prevent Mr. Morgan from breaking the connection ?" 
 
 " Yes ; a marriage between the two houses would be a 
 great thing ; it would make this new idea unlikely if not 
 altogether impossible. I am thankful that there seems 
 now some chance of it. Let the two meet naturally and 
 learn to know each other. I will not say a word to 
 Frithiof, it would only do harm ; but to you, Sigrid, I con- 
 fess that my heart is set on this plan. If I could for one 
 moment make you see the future as I see it, you would 
 feel with me how important the matter is." 
 
 At this moment Frithiof himself entered, and the con- 
 versation was abruptly ended. 
 
 " Well, have you decided ? " he asked in his eager, boyish 
 way. " Is it to be Ulvik or Balholm ? What ! You were 
 not even talking about that. Oh, I know what it was 
 then. Sigrid was deep in the discussion of to-morrow's 
 dinner. I will tell you what to do, abolish the romekolle, 
 and let us be English to the backbone. Now I think of 
 it, Mr. Morgan is not unlike a walking sirloin with a plum- 
 pudding head. There is your bill of fare, so waste no 
 more time." 
 
 The brother &nd sister went off together, laughing and 
 talking ; but when the door closed behind them the master 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 21 
 
 of the house buried his face in his hands, and for many 
 minutes sat motionless. What troubled thoughts, what 
 wearing anxieties filled his mind, Sigrid little guessed. It 
 was, after all, a mere surface difficulty of which he had 
 spoken ; of the real strain which was killing him by inches 
 he could not say a word to any mortal being, though now 
 in his great misery he instinctively prayed. 
 
 " My poor children ! " he groaned. " Oh, God, spare 
 them from this shame and ruin which haunts me. I have 
 tried to be upright and prudent, it was only this once that 
 I was rash. Give me success for their sakes, oh, God ! 
 The selfish and unscrupulous flourish on all sides. Give 
 me this one success. Let me not blight their whole lives." 
 
 But the next day, when he went forward to greet his 
 English guests, it would have been difficult to recognize 
 him as the burdened, careworn man from whose lips had 
 been wrung that confession and that prayer. All his 
 natural courtesy and brightness had returned to him ; if 
 he thought of his business at all, he thought of it in the 
 most sanguine way possible, and the Morgans saw in him 
 only an older edition of Frithiof, and wondered how he 
 had managed to preserve such buoyant spirits in the cares 
 and uncertainties of mercantile life. The two-o'clock 
 dinner passed off well j Sigrid, who was a clever little 
 housekeeper, had scouted Frithiof 's suggestion as to the 
 roast beef and plum-pudding, and had carefully devised a 
 thoroughly Norwegian repast. 
 
 " For I thought," she explained afterward to Blanche, 
 when the two girls had made friends, " that if I went to 
 England, I should wish to see your home life just exactly 
 is it really is, and so I have ordered the sort of dinner we 
 should naturally have, and did not, as Frithiof advised, 
 leave out the romekolle." 
 
 " Was that the stuff like curds and whey ? " asked 
 Blanche, who was full of eager interest in everything. 
 
 " Yes ; it is sour cream with bread-crumbs grated over 
 
22 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 it. We always have a plateful each at dinner, it is quite 
 one of our customs. But everything here is very simple 
 of course, not grand as with you ; we do not keep a great 
 number of servants, or dine late, or dress for the evening 
 here there is nothing " she hesitated for a word, then in 
 her pretty foreign English added, " nothing ceremonious." 
 
 "That is just the charm of it all," said Blanche, in her 
 sweet gracious way. "It is all so real and simple and 
 fresh, and I think it was delightful of you to know how 
 much best we should like to have a glimpse of your real 
 home life instead of a stupid party. Now mamma cares 
 for nothing but just to make a great show, it doesn't matter 
 whether the visitors really like it or not." 
 
 Sigrid felt a momentary pang of doubt ; she had fallen 
 in love with Blanche Morgan the moment she saw her, but 
 it somehow hurt her to hear the English girl criticise her 
 own mother. To Sigrid's loyal nature there was something 
 out of tune in that last remark. 
 
 " Perhaps you and your cousin would like to see over 
 the house," she said, by way of making a diversion. 
 " Though I must tell you that we are considered here in 
 Bergen to be rather English in some points. That is 
 because of my father's business connection with England, 
 I suppose. Here, you see, in his study he has a real 
 English fire-place ; we all like it much better than the 
 stoves, and some day I should like to have them in the 
 other rooms as well." 
 
 " But there is one thing very un-English," said Blanche. 
 " There are no passages ; instead, I see, all your rooms 
 open out of each other. Such numbers of lovely plants, 
 too, in every direction ; we are not so artistic, we stand 
 them all in prim rows in a conservatory. This, too, is 
 quite new to me. What a good idea ! " And she went up 
 to examine a prettily worked sling fastened to the wall, 
 and made to hold newspapers. 
 
 She was too polite of course to say what really struck 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 23 
 
 her that the whole house seemed curiously simple and 
 bare, and that she had imagined that one of the leading 
 merchants of Bergen would live in greater style. As a 
 matter of fact, you might, as Cyril expressed it, have 
 bought the whole place for an old song, and though there 
 was an air of comfort and good taste about the rooms and 
 a certain indescribable charm, they were evidently des- 
 tined for use and not for show, and with the exception of 
 some fine old Norwegian silver and a few good pictures, 
 Herr Falck did not possess a single thing of value. 
 
 Contrasted with the huge and elaborately furnished 
 house in Lancaster Gate, with its lavishly strewn knick- 
 knacks, its profusion of all the beautiful things that money 
 could buy, the Norwegian villa seemed poor indeed, yet 
 there was something about it which took Blanche's fancy. 
 
 Later on, when the whole party had started for a walk, 
 and when Frithiof and Blanche had quite naturally drifted 
 into a tete-a-tete, she said something to this effect : 
 
 " I begin not to wonder that you are so happy," she 
 added, " the whole atmosphere of the place is happiness. 
 I wish you could teach us the secret of it." 
 
 " Have you then only the gift of making other people 
 happy ? " said Frithiof. " That seems strange." 
 
 " You will perhaps think me very discontented," she 
 said, with a pathetic little sadness in her tone which 
 touched him ; " but seeing how fresh and simple and 
 happy your life is out here makes me more out of heart 
 than ever with my own home. You must not think I am 
 grumbling ; they are very good to me, you know, and give 
 me everything that money can buy ; but somehow there is 
 so much that jars on one, and here there seems nothing 
 but kindliness and ease and peace." 
 
 " I am glad you like our life," he said, " so very glad." 
 
 And as she told him more of her home and her London 
 life, and of how little it satisfied her, her words, and still 
 more her manner and her sweet eyes, seemed to weave a, 
 
4 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 sort of spell about him, seemed to lure him on into a 
 derful future, and to waken in him a new life. 
 
 " I like him," thought Blanche to herself. " Perhapj 
 after all this Norwegian tour will not be so dull. I like to 
 see his eyes light up so eagerly ; he really has beautiful 
 eyes ! I almost think I really almost think I am just a 
 little bit in love with him." 
 
 At this moment they happened to overtake two English 
 tourists on the road ; as they passed on in front of them 
 Frithiof, with native courtesy, took off his hat. 
 
 " You surely don't know that man ? He is only a shop 
 keeper," said Blanche, not even taking the trouble to lower 
 her voice. 
 
 Frithiof crimsoned to the roots of his hair. " I am 
 afraid he must have heard what you said," he exclaimed, 
 quickening his pace in the discomfort of the realization. 
 " I do not know him certainly, but one is bound to be 
 courteous to strangers." 
 
 " I know exactly who he is," said Blanche, " for he and 
 his sister were on the steamer, and Cyril found out all 
 about them. He is Boniface, the music-shop man." 
 
 Frithiof was saved a reply, for just then they reached 
 their destination, and rejoined the rest of the party, who 
 were clustered together on the hill-side enjoying a most 
 lovely view. Down below them, sheltered by a great 
 craggy mountain on the further side, lay a little lonely lake, 
 so weird-looking, so desolate, that it was hard to believe it 
 to be within an easy walk of the town. Angry-looking 
 clouds were beginning to gather in the sky, a purple gloom 
 seemed to overspread the mountain and the lake, and 
 something of its gravity seemed also to have fallen upon 
 Frithiof. He had found the first imperfection in his ideal, 
 yet it had only served to show him how great a power, 
 how strange an influence she possessed over him. He 
 knew now that, for the first time in his life, he was blindly, 
 (iesperately in love. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 25 
 
 " Why, it is beginning to rain," said Mr. Morgan. " I 
 almost think we had better be turning back, Herr Falck. 
 It has been a most enjoyable little walk ; but if we can 
 reach the hotel before it settles in for a wet evening, why, 
 all the better." 
 
 " The rain is the great drawback to Bergen," said Herr 
 Falck. " At Christiana, they have a saying that when you 
 go to Bergen it rains three hundred and sixty-six days out 
 of the year. But after all one becomes very much accus- 
 tomed to it." 
 
 On the return walk the conversation was more general, 
 and though Frithiof walked beside Blanche he said very 
 little. His mind was full of the new idea which had just 
 dawned upon him, and he heard her merry talk with Sigrid 
 and Swanhild like a man in a dream. Before long, much 
 to his discomfort, he saw in front of them the two English 
 tourists, and though his mind was all in a tumult with this 
 new perception of his love for Blanche, yet the longing to 
 make up for her ill-judged remark, the desire to prove that 
 he did not share in her prejudice, was powerful too. He 
 fancied it was chiefly to avoid them that the Englishman 
 turned toward the bank just as they passed to gather a 
 flower which grew high above his head. 
 
 " What can this be, Cecil? " he remarked. 
 
 " Allow me, sir," said Frithiof, observing that it was just 
 out of the stranger's reach. 
 
 He was two or three inches taller, and, with an adroit 
 spring, was able to bring down the flower in triumph. 
 By this time the others were some little way in advance. 
 He looked rather wistfully after Blanche, and fancied dis- 
 approval in her erect, trim little figure. 
 
 " This is the Linnaea," he explained. " You will find a 
 great deal of it about. It was the flower, you know, 
 which Linnaeus chose to name after himself. Some say he 
 showed his modesty in choosing so common and insignifi- 
 cant a plant, but it always seems to me that he showed his 
 good taste. Jt is a beautiful flower/' 
 
26 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 Roy Boniface thanked him heartily for his help. " We 
 were hoping to find the Linnaea," he said, handing it to his 
 sister, while he opened a specimen tin. 
 
 " What delicate little bells ! " she exclaimed. " I quite 
 agree with you that Linnaeus showed his good taste." 
 
 Frithiof would probably have passed on had he not, at 
 that moment, recognized Cecil as the English girl whom 
 he had first accosted on the steamer. 
 
 " Pardon me for not knowing you before," he said, 
 raising his hat. " We met yesterday afternoon, did we 
 not ? I hope you have had a pleasant time at Bergen ? " 
 
 " Delightful, thank you. We think it the most charm- 
 ing town we ever saw." 
 
 " Barring the rain," said Roy, " for which we have fool- 
 ishly forgotten to reckon." 
 
 " Never be parted from your umbrella, is a sound maxim 
 for this part of the world," said Frithiof, smiling. " Halloo ! 
 it is coming down in good earnest. I'm afraid you will 
 get very wet," he said, glancing at Cecil's pretty gray tra- 
 veling-dress. 
 
 " Shall we stand up for a minute under that porch, Roy ? " 
 said the girl, glancing at a villa which they were just pass- 
 ing. 
 
 " No, no," said Frithiof; " please take shelter with us. 
 My father's villa is close by. Please come." 
 
 And since Cecil was genuinely glad not to get wet 
 through, and since Roy, though he cared nothing for the 
 rain, was glad to have a chance of seeing the inside of a 
 Norwegian villa, they accepted the kindly offer, and fol- 
 lowed their guide into the pretty snug-looking house. 
 
 Roy had heard a good deal of talk about sweetness 
 and light, but he thought he had never realized the mean- 
 ing of the words till the moment when he was ushered into 
 that pretty Norwegian drawing-room, with its painted 
 floor and groups of flowers, and its pink-tinted walls, about 
 which the green ivy wreathed itself picturesquely, no\y 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 27 
 
 twining itself round some mirror or picture-frame, now 
 forming a sort of informal frieze round the whole room, its 
 roots so cleverly hidden away in sheltered corners or on 
 unobtrusive brackets, that the growth had all the fascination 
 of mystery. The presiding genius of the place, and the 
 very centre of all that charmed, stood by one of the win- 
 dows, the light falling on her golden hair. She had taken 
 off her hat and was flicking the rain-drops from it with her 
 handkerchief, when Frithiof introduced the two Bonifaces, 
 and Roy, who found his novel experience a little embar- 
 rassing, was speedily set at ease by her delightful natural- 
 ness and frank courtesy. 
 
 Her bow and smile were grace itself, and she seemed to 
 take the whole proceeding entirely as a matter of course ; 
 one might have supposed that she was in the habit of 
 sheltering wet tourists every day of her life. 
 
 " I am so glad my brother found you," she exclaimed. 
 " You would have been wet through had you walked on to 
 Bergen. Swanhild, run and fetch a duster ; oh, you have 
 brought one already, that's a good child. Now let me 
 wipe your dress," she added, turning to Cecil. 
 
 " Where has every one disappeared to ? " asked Frithiof. 
 
 " Father has walked on to Holdt's Hotel with the Mor- 
 gans," said Swanhild. " They would not wait, though we 
 tried to persuade them to. Father is going to talk over 
 their route with them." 
 
 Cecil saw a momentary look of annoyance on his face, 
 but the next minute he was talking as pleasantly as possible 
 to Roy, and before long the question of routes was being 
 discussed, and as fast as Frithiof suggested one place, Sig- 
 rid and Swanhild mentioned others which must on no 
 account be missed. 
 
 "And you can really only spare a month for it all ?" 
 asked Sigrid. "Then I should give upgoingtoChristiania 
 or Trondhjem if I were you. They will not interest you 
 half as much as this south-west coast," 
 
28 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " But, Sigrid, it is impossible to leave out Kongswold 
 and Dombaas. For you are a botanist, are you not?" 
 said Frithiof, turning to the Englishman, " and those places 
 are perfection for flowers." 
 
 " Yes ? Then you must certainly go there," said Sigrid. 
 " Kongswold is a dear little place up on the Dovrefjeld. 
 Yet if you were not botanists I should say you ought to 
 see instead either the Volingsfos or the Skjaeggedalsfos, 
 they are our two finest water-falls." 
 
 " The Skedaddles-fos, as the Americans call it," put in 
 Frithiof. 
 
 " You have a great many American tourists, I suppose," 
 said Roy. 
 
 " Oh, yes, a great many, and we like them very well, 
 though not as we like the English. To the English we 
 feel very much akin." 
 
 " And you speak our language so well ! " said Cecil, to 
 whom the discovery had been a surprise and a relief. 
 
 " You see we Norwegians think a great deal of education. 
 Our schools are very good ; we are all taught to speak 
 German and English. French, which with you comes 
 first, does it not ? stands third with us." 
 
 " Tell me about your schools," said Cecil. " Are they 
 like ours, I wonder ? " 
 
 " We begin at six years old to go to the middle school 
 they say it is much like your English high schools ; both 
 my brother and I went to the middle schools here at Ber- 
 gen. Then when we were sixteen we went to Christiania, 
 he to the Handelsgymnasium, and I to Miss Bauer's school, 
 for two years. My little sister is now at the middle school 
 here ; she goes every day, but just now it is holiday time." 
 
 " And in holidays," said Swanhild, whose English was 
 much less fluent and ready, " we go away. We perhaps 
 go to-morrow to Balholm." 
 
 " Perhaps we shall meet you again there," said Sigrid. 
 " Oh, do come there ; it is such a lovely place." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 29 
 
 Then followed a discussion about flowers, in which Sigrid 
 was also interested, and presently Herr Falck returned, 
 and added another picture of charming hospitality to the 
 group that would always remain in the minds of the Eng- 
 lish travelers ; and then there was afternoon tea, which 
 proved a great bond of union, and more discussion of 
 English and Norwegian customs, and much laughter and 
 merriment and lightheartedness. 
 
 When at length the rain ceased, and Roy and Cecil were 
 allowed to leave for Bergen, they felt as if the kindly Nor- 
 wegians were old friends. 
 
 " Shall you be very much disappointed if we give up the 
 Skedaddle-fos ? " asked Roy. " It seems to me that a 
 water-fall is a water-fall all the world over, but that we are 
 not likely to meet everywhere with a family like that." 
 
 " Oh, by all means give it up," said Cecil, gayly. " I 
 would rather have a few quiet days at Balholm. I detest 
 toiling after the things every one expects you to see. 
 Besides, we can always be sure of finding the Skjaegge- 
 dals-fos in Norway, but we can't tell what may happen to 
 these delightful people." 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 BALHOLM, the loveliest of all the places on the Sogne Fjord, 
 is perhaps the quietest place on earth. There is a hotel, 
 kept by two most delightful Norwegian brothers ; there is 
 a bathing-house, a minute landing-stage, and a sprinkling 
 of little wooden cottages with red-tiled roofs. The only 
 approach is by water ; no dusty high-road is to be found, 
 no carts and carriages rumble past ; if you want rest 
 and quiet, you have only to seek it on the mountains .or 
 by the shore j if you want amusement, you have only to 
 join the merry Norwegians in the salon, who are always 
 ready to sing or to play, to dance or to talk, or, if weather- 
 
30 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 bound, to play games with the zest and animation of chil- 
 dren. Even so limp a specimen of humanity as Cyril 
 Morgan found that, after all, existence in this primitive 
 region had its charms, while Blanche said, quite truthfully, 
 that she had never enjoyed herself so much in her life. 
 There was to her a charming piquancy about both place 
 and people ; and although she was well accustomed to love 
 and admiration, -he found that Frithiof was altogether 
 unlike the men she had hitherto met in society ; there was 
 about him something strangely fresh -he seemed to har- 
 monize well with the place, and he made all the other men 
 of whom she could think seem ordinary and prosaic. As 
 for Frithiof, he made no secret of his love for her, it was 
 apparent to all the world to the light-hearted Norwegians, 
 who looked on approvingly ; to Cyril Morgan, who won- 
 dered what on earth Blanche could see in such an unsophis- 
 ticated boy ; to Mr. Morgan, who, with a shrug of his 
 broad shoulders, remarked that there was no help for it 
 it was Blanche's way ; to Roy Boniface, who thought the 
 two were well matched, and gave them his good wishes ; 
 and to Cecil, who, as she watched the two a little wistfully, 
 said in her secret heart what could on no account have 
 been said to any living being : " I hope, oh, I hope she 
 cares for him enough ! " 
 
 One morning, a little tired with the previous day's ex- 
 cursion to the Suphelle Brae, they idled away the sunny 
 hours on the fjord, Frithiof rowing, Swanhild lying at full 
 length in the bow with Lillo mounting guard over her, and 
 Blanche, Sigrid, and Cecil in the stern. 
 
 " You have been all this time at Balholm and yet have 
 not seen King Bele's grave ; " Frithiof had exclaimed in 
 answer to Blanche's inquiry. " Look, there it is, just a 
 green mound by that tree." 
 
 " Isn't it odd," said Sigrid, dreamily, " to think that we 
 are just in the very place where the Frithiof Saga has really 
 lived?" 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 31 
 
 " But I thought it was only a legend," said Cecil. 
 
 " Oh, no," said Frithiof, "the Sagas are not legends but 
 true stories handed down by word of mouth." 
 
 " Then I wish you would hand down your saga to us by 
 word of mouth," said Blanche, raising her sweet eyes to 
 his. " I shall never take the trouble to read it for myself 
 in some dry, tiresome book. Tell us the story of Frithiof 
 now as we drift along in the boat with hj old home Fram- 
 naes in sight." 
 
 " I do not think L-can tell it really well," he said ; " but 
 I can just give you the outline of it : 
 
 " Frithiof was the only son of a wealthy yeoman who 
 owned land at Framnaes. His father was a great friend of 
 King Bele, and the king wished that his only daughter 
 Ingeborg should be educated by the same wise man who 
 taught Frithiof. So you see it happened that as children 
 Frithiof and Ingeborg were always together ; and by and by 
 was it not quite natural that they should learn to love each 
 other? It happened just so, and Frithiof vowed that, 
 although he was only the son of a yeoman, nothing should 
 separate them or make him give her up. It then happened 
 that King Bele died, and Frithiofs father, his great friend, 
 died at the same time. Then Frithiof went to live at Fram- 
 naes over yonder ; he had great possessions, but the most 
 useful were just these three : a wonderful sword, a wonder- 
 ful bracelet, and a wonderful ship called the ' Ellida,' 
 which had been given to one of his Viking ancestors by 
 the sea-god. But though he had all these things, and was 
 the most powerful man in the kingdom, yet he was always 
 sad, for he could not forget the old days with Ingeborg. 
 So one day he crossed this fjord to Bele's grave, close to 
 Balholm, where Ingeborg's two brothers Helge and Half- 
 dan were holding an assembly of the people, and he boldly 
 asked for Ingeborg's hand. Helge the king was furious, 
 and rejected him with scorn, and Frithiof, who would not 
 allow even a king to insult him, drew his sword and with 
 
32 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 one blow smote the king's shield, which hung on a tree, 
 in two pieces. Soon after this good King Ring of the far 
 North, who had lost his wife, became a suitor for Inge- 
 borg's hand ; but Helge and Halfdan insulted his messen- 
 gers and a war was the consequence. When Frithiof heard 
 the news of the war he was sitting with his friend at a game 
 of chess ; he refused to help Helge and Halfdan, but 
 knowing that Ingeborg had been sent for safety to the 
 sacred grove of Balder, he went to see her in the ' Ellida,' 
 though there was a law that whoever ventured to approach 
 the grove by water should be put to death. Now Ingeborg 
 had always loved him and she agreed to be betrothed to 
 him, and taking leave of her, Frithiof went with all haste to 
 tell her brothers. This time also there was a great assembly 
 at Bele's grave, and again Frithiof asked for the hand of 
 Ingeborg, and promised that, if Helge would consent to 
 their betrothal, he would fight for him. But Helge, instead 
 of answering him, asked if he had not been to the sacred 
 grove of Balder, contrary to the law ? Then all the people 
 shouted to him, 'Say no, Frithiof! Say no, and Ingeborg 
 is yours ! ' But Frithiof said that though his happiness 
 hung on that one word he would not tell a lie, that in truth 
 he had been to Balder's Temple, but that his presence had 
 not defiled it, that he and Ingeborg had prayed together 
 and had planned this offer of peace. But the people for- 
 sook him, and King Helge banished him until he should 
 bring back the tribute due from Angantyr of the Western 
 Isles ; and every one knew that if he escaped with his life 
 on such an errand it would be a wonder. Once again Fri- 
 thiof saw Ingeborg, and he begged her to come with him 
 in his ship the ' Ellida ; ' but Ingeborg, though she loved 
 him, thought, that she owed obedience to her brothers, and 
 they bade each other farewell ; but before he went Frithiof 
 clasped on her arm the wonderful bracelet. So then they 
 parted, and Frithiof sailed away, and had more adventures 
 than I can tell you, but at last he returned with the tribute 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 33 
 
 money, and now he thought Ingeborg would indeed be his. 
 But when he came in sight of Framnaes, he found that his 
 house and everything belonging to him had been burned 
 to the ground." 
 
 " No, no, Frithiof; there was his horse and his dog left," 
 corrected Sigrid. " Don't you remember how they came 
 up to him ? " 
 
 " So they did, but all else was gone ; and, worst of all, 
 Ingeborg, they told him, had been forced by her brothers 
 to marry King Ring, who, if she had not become his wife, 
 would have taken the kingdom from Helge and Halfdan. 
 Then Frithiof was in despair, and cried out, * Who daie 
 speak to me of the fidelity of women ? ' And it so happened 
 that that very day was Midsummer-day, and he knew that 
 King Helge, Ingeborg's brother, would be in the Temple 
 of Balder. He sought him out, and went straight up to 
 him and said, * You sent me for the lost tribute and I have 
 gained it, but either you or I must die. Come, fight me ! 
 Think of Framnaes that you burned. Think of Ingeborg 
 whose life you have spoiled ! ' And then in great wrath he 
 flung the tribute-money at Helge's head, and Helge fell 
 down senseless. Just then Frithiof caught sight of the 
 bracelet he had given Ingeborg on the image of Balder, and 
 he tore it off, but in so doing upset the image, which fell 
 into the flames on the altar. The fire spread, and spread 
 so that at last the whole temple was burned, and all the 
 trees of the grove. Next day King Helge gave chase to 
 Frithiof, but luckily in the night Frithiof s friend had 
 scuttled all the king's ships, and so his effort failed, and 
 Frithiof sailed out to sea in the ' Ellida.' Then he became 
 a Viking, and lived a hard life, and won many victories. 
 At last he came home to Norway and went to King Ring's 
 court at Yule-tide, disguised as an old man ; but they soon 
 found out that he was young and beautiful, and he doffed 
 his disguise, and Ingeborg trembled as she recognized him. 
 Ring knew him not, but liked him well, and made him his 
 
 2 
 
34 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 guest. One day he saved Ring when his horse and sledge 
 had fallen into the water. But another day it so happened 
 that they went out hunting together, and Ring being tired 
 fell asleep, while Frithiof kept guard over him. As he 
 watched, a raven came and sung to him, urging him to kill 
 the king ; but a white bird urged him to flee from tempta- 
 tion, and Frithiof drew his sword and flung it far away out 
 of reach. Then the king opened his eyes, and told Frithiof 
 that for some time he had known him, and that he honoured 
 him for resisting temptation. Frithiof, however, felt that 
 he could no longer bear to be near Ingeborg, since she 
 belonged not to him, and soon he came to take leave of her 
 and her husband. But good King Ring said that the time 
 of his own death was come, and he asked Frithiof to take 
 his kingdom and Ingeborg, and to be good to his son. 
 Then he plunged his sword in his breast, and so died. 
 Before long the people met to elect a new king, and would 
 have chosen Frithiof, but he would only be regent till 
 Ring's son should be of age. Then Frithiof went away to 
 his father's grave and prayed to Balder, and he built a 
 wonderful new temple for the god, but still peace did not 
 come to him. And the priest told him that the reason of 
 this was because he still kept anger and hatred in his heart 
 toward Ingeborg's brothers. Helge was dead, but the 
 priest prayed him to be reconciled to Halfdan. They were 
 standing thus talking in the new temple, when Halfdan 
 unexpectedly appeared, and when he caught sight of his foe 
 he turned pale and trembled. But Frithiof, who for the 
 first time saw that forgiveness is greater than vengeance, 
 walked up to the altar, placed upon it his sword and shield, 
 and returning, held out his hand to Halfdan, and the two 
 were reconciled. At that moment there entered the temple 
 one dressed as a bride, and Frithiof lifted up his eyes and 
 saw that it was Ingeborg herself. And Halfdan, his pride 
 of birth forgotten and his anger conquered by his foe's 
 forgiveness, led his sister to Frithiof and gave her to be his 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 35 
 
 wife, and in the new Temple of Balder the Good the lovers 
 received the blessing of the priest." 
 
 " How well you tell it ! It is a wonderful story," said 
 Blanche ; and there was real, genuine pleasure in her dark 
 eyes as she looked across at him. 
 
 It was such a contrast to her ordinary life, this quiet 
 Norway, where all was so simple and true and trustworthy, 
 where no one seemed to strain after effects. And there 
 was something in Frithiof s strength, and spirit, and anima- 
 tion which appealed to her greatly. " My Viking is 
 adorable ! " she used to say to herself; and gradually there 
 stole into her manner toward him a sort of tender reve- 
 rence. She no longer teased him playfully, and their talks 
 together in those long summer days became less full of 
 mirth and laughter, but more earnest and absorbing. 
 
 Cecil saw all this, and she breathed more freely. 
 " Certainly she loves him," was her reflection. 
 
 Sigrid, too, no longer doubted; indeed, Blanche had 
 altogether won her heart, and somehow, whenever they 
 were together, the talk always drifted round to Frithiof s 
 past, or Frithiof s future, or Frithiof s opinions. She was 
 very happy about it, for she felt sure that Blanche would be 
 a charming sister-in-law, and love and hope seemed to have 
 developed Frithiof in a wonderful way ; he had suddenly 
 grown manly and considerate, nor did Sigrid feel, as she 
 had feared, that his new love interfered with his love for 
 her. 
 
 They were bright days for every one, those days at 
 Balholm, with their merry excursions to the priest's garden 
 and the fir-woods, to the saeter on the mountain-side, and 
 to grand old Munkeggen, whose heights towered above the 
 little wooden hotel. Herr Falck, who had joined them 
 toward the end of the week, and who climbed Munkeggen 
 as energetically as any one, was well pleased to see the 
 turn affairs had taken ; and every one was kind, and 
 discreetly left Frithiof and Blanche to themselves as they 
 
36 A HARD* NORSEMAN. 
 
 toiled up the mountain-side ; indeed, Knut, the landlord's 
 brother, who as usual had courteously offered his services 
 as guide, was so thoughtful for the two lovers who were 
 lingering behind, that he remorselessly hurried up a stout 
 old American lady, who panted after him, to that " better 
 resting-place," which he always insisted was a little 
 further on. 
 
 " Will there be church to-morrow ? " asked Blanche, as 
 they rested half-way. " I should so like to go to a Nor- 
 wegian service." 
 
 " There will be service at some church within reach," 
 saidFrithiof ; " but I do not much advise you to go; it will 
 be very hot, and the place will be packed." 
 
 " Why ? Are you such a religious people ? " 
 
 " The peasants are," he replied. " And of course the 
 women. Church-going and religion, that is for women ; we 
 men do not need that sort of thing." 
 
 She was a little startled by his matter-of-fact, unabashed 
 tone. 
 
 " What, are you an agnostic ? an atheist ? " she exclaimed. 
 
 " No, no, not at all," he said, composedly. " I believe 
 in a good Providence, but with so much I am quite satis- 
 fied, you see. What does one need with more ? To us 
 men, religion, church-going, is is how do you call it in 
 English ? I think you say ' an awful bore.' Is it not so ? " 
 
 The slang in foreign accent was irresistible. She was a 
 little shocked, but she could not help laughing. 
 
 " How you Norwegians speak out ! " she exclaimed. 
 "Many Englishmen feel that, but few would say it so 
 plainly." 
 
 11 So ! I thought an Englishman was nothing if not 
 candid. But for me I feel no shame. What more would 
 one have than to make the most of life? That is my 
 religion. I hear that in England there is a book to ask 
 whether life is worth living? For me I can't understand 
 that sort of thing. It is a question that would never have 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 37 
 
 occurred to me. Only to live is happiness enough. Life 
 is such a very good thing. Do you not agree ? " 
 
 " Sometimes," she said, rather wistfully. 
 
 " Only sometimes ? No no, always to the last 
 breath ! " cried Frithiof. 
 
 " You say that because things are as you like ; because 
 you are happy," said Blanche. 
 
 " It is true, I am very happy," he replied. " Who 
 would not be happy walking with you ? " 
 
 Something in his manner frightened her a little. She 
 went on breathlessly and incoherently. 
 
 " You wouldn't say that life is a very good thing if you 
 were like our poor people in East London, for instance." 
 
 " Indeed, no," he said, gravely. " That must be a great 
 blot on English life. Here in Norway we have no 
 extremes. No one is very poor, and our richest men have 
 only what would be counted in England a moderate 
 income." 
 
 " Perhaps that is why you are such a happy people." 
 
 "Perhaps," said Frithiof; but he felt little inclined to 
 consider the problem of the distribution of wealth just 
 then, and the talk drifted round once more to that absorb- 
 ing personal talk which was much more familiar to them. 
 
 At length the top of the mountain was reached, and a 
 merry little picnic ensued. Frithiof was the life of the 
 party, and there was much drinking of healths and clink- 
 ing of glasses, and though the cold was intense every one 
 seemed to enjoy it, and to make fun of any sort of 
 discomfort. 
 
 " Come ! " said Sigrid to Cecil Boniface, " you and I 
 must add a stone to the cairn. Let us drag up this great 
 one and put it on the top together in memory of our 
 friendship." 
 
 They stood laughing and panting under the shelter of 
 the cairn when the stone was deposited, the merry voices 
 of the rest of the party floating back to them. 
 
38 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " Do you not think we are dreadful chatterers, we Nor- 
 wegians ? " said Sigrid. 
 
 " I think you are delightful," said Cecil, simply. 
 
 Something in her manner touched and pleased Sigrid. 
 She had grown to like this quiet English girl. They were 
 silent for some minutes, looking over that wonderful 
 expanse of blue fjords and hoary mountains, flecked here 
 and there on their sombre heights by snow-drifts. Far 
 down below them a row-boat could be seen on the water, 
 looking scarcely bigger than the head of a pin ; and as 
 Cecil watched the lovely country steeped in the golden 
 sunshine of that summer afternoon, thoughts of the Frithiof 
 Saga came thronging through her mind, till it almost 
 seemed to her that in another moment she should see the 
 dragon ship the " Ellida "winging her way over the smooth 
 blue waters. 
 
 Knut suggested before long that if they were to be home 
 in time for supper it might be best to start at once, and 
 the merry party broke up into little groups. Herr Falck 
 was deep in conversation with Mr. Morgan, Cyril and 
 Florence as usual kept to themselves, Knut piloted the 
 American lady in advance of the others, while Roy Boni- 
 face joined his sister and Sigrid, pausing on the way 
 for a little snow-balling in a great snow-drift just below the 
 summit. Little Swanhild hesitated for a moment, longing 
 to walk with Blanche, for whom she had formed the sort 
 of adoring attachment with which children of her age often 
 honour some grown-up girl ; but she was laughingly 
 carried off by some good-natured friends from Bergen, who 
 divined her intentions, and once more Frithiof and Blanche 
 were left alone. 
 
 " And you must really go on Monday ? " asked Frithiof, 
 with a sigh. 
 
 " Well," she said, glancing up at him quickly. " I have 
 been very troublesome to you, I'm sure always needing 
 help in climbing ! You will be glad to get rid of me* 
 though you are too polite to tell me 59." 
 
A HARD} NORSEMAN. 39 
 
 " How can you say such things ? " he exclaimed, and 
 again something in his manner alarmed her a little. " You 
 know you must know what these days have been to me." 
 
 The lovely colour flooded her cheeks, and she spoke 
 almost at random. 
 
 " After all, I believe I should do better if I trusted to 
 my alpenstock ! " And, laughingly, she began to spring 
 down the rough descent, a little proud of her own grace 
 and agility, and a little glad to baffle and tease him for a 
 few minutes. 
 
 " Take care ! take care ! " cried Frithiof, hurrying after 
 her. Then, with a stifled cry, he sprung forward to rescue 
 her, for the alpenstock had slipped on a stone, and she 
 was rolling down the steep incline. Even in the terrible 
 moment itself he had time to think of two distinct dangers 
 she might strike her head against one of the bowlders, 
 or, worse thought still, might be unchecked, and fall over 
 that side of Munkeggen which was almost precipitous. 
 How he managed it he never realized, but love seemed to 
 lend him wings, and the next thing he knew was that he 
 was kneeling on the grass only two or three feet from the 
 sheer cliff-like side with Blanche in his arms. 
 
 "Are you hurt? " he questioned, breathlessly. 
 
 " No," she replied, trembling with excitement. " Not 
 hurt at all, only shaken and startled." 
 
 He lifted her a little further from the edge. For a 
 minute she lay passively, then she looked up into his eyes. 
 
 " How strong you are," she said, " and how cleverly 
 you caught me ! Yet now that it is over you look quite 
 haggard and white. I am really not hurt at all. It pun- 
 ished me well for thinking I could get on without you. 
 You see I couldn't ! " and a lovely, tender smile dawned 
 in her eyes. 
 
 She sat up and took off her hat, smoothing back her dis- 
 ordered hair. A sort of terror seized Frithiof that in 
 another minute she would propose going on, and, urged 
 bv this fear, he spoke rapidly and impetuously. 
 
40 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " If only I might always serve you !" he cried. "Oh, 
 Blanche, I love you ! I love you ! Will you not trust 
 yourself to me ? " 
 
 Blanche had received already several offers of marriage ; 
 they had been couched in much better terms, but they had 
 lacked the passionate ardor of Frithiof 's manner. All in 
 a moment she was conquered ; she could not even make a 
 feint of resistance, but just put her hand in his. 
 
 " I will always trust you," she faltered. 
 
 Then, as she felt his strong arm round her and his kisses 
 on her cheek, there flashed through her mind a descrip- 
 tion she had once read of 
 
 " a strong man from the North, 
 Light-locked, with eyes of dangerous gray." 
 
 It was a love worth having, she thought to herself; a 
 love to be proud of ! 
 
 " But, Frithiof," she began after a timeless pause, " we 
 must keep our secret just for a little while. You see my 
 father is not here, and " 
 
 " Let me write to him and ask his consent," exclaimed 
 Frithiof. 
 
 "No, no, do not write. Come over to England in 
 October and see him yourself, that will be so much better." 
 
 " Must we wait so long? " said Frithiof, his face cloud- 
 ing. 
 
 " It is only a few weeks ; papa will not be at home till 
 then. Every one is away from London, you know. Don't 
 look so anxious ; I do not know your face when it isn't 
 happy you were never meant to be grave. As for papa, 
 I can make him do exactly what I like, you need not be 
 afraid that he will not consent. Come ! I have promised 
 to trust to you and yet you doubt me." 
 
 " Doubt you ! " he cried. " Never ! I trust you before 
 all the world ; and if you tell me to wait why then I 
 must obey." 
 
 " Kow I love you for saying that," cried Blanche, cling- 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 41 
 
 ing to him. " To think that you who are so strong should 
 say that to me ! It seems wonderful. But indeed, indeed, 
 you need not doubt me. I love you with my whole heart. 
 I love you as I never thought it possible to love." 
 
 Frithiof again clasped her in his arms, and there came 
 to his mind the sweet words of Uhland : 
 
 " Gestorben war ich 
 Vor Liebeswonn, 
 Begraben lag ich 
 In Ihren Armen ; 
 Erwechet ward ich 
 Von ihren Kiissen 
 Den Himmel sah ich 
 In ihren Augen." 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " WE were beginning to think some accident had happened 
 to you," said Sigrid, who stood waiting at the door of the 
 hotel. 
 
 " And so it did," said Blanche, laughing. " I think I 
 should have broken my neck if it hadn't been for your 
 brother. It was all the fault of this treacherous alpenstock 
 which played me false." 
 
 And then, with a sympathetic little group of listeners, 
 Blanche gave a full account of her narrow escape. 
 
 " And you are really not hurt at all ? Not too much 
 shaken to care to dance to-night ? " 
 
 " Not a bit," said Blanche, merrily. " And you promised 
 to put on your peasant costume and show us the spring 
 dans, you know." 
 
 " So I did. I must make haste and dress, then," and 
 Sigrid ran upstairs, appearing again before long in a simply 
 made dark skirt, white sleeves and chemisette, and red 
 bodice, richly embroidered in gold. Her beautiful hair 
 
42 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 was worn in two long plaits down her back, and the 
 costume suited her to perfection. There followed a merry 
 supper in the dependance where all meals were served, 
 then every one adjourned to the hotel salon, the tables 
 and chairs were hastily pushed aside, and dancing began. 
 
 Herr Falck's eyes rested contentedly on the slim little 
 figure in the maize-coloured dress who so often danced with 
 his son ; and, indeed, Blanche looked more lovely than 
 ever that evening, for happiness and excitement had bright- 
 ened her dark eyes, and deepened the glow of colour in 
 her cheeks. The father felt proud, too, of his children, 
 when, in response to the general entreaty, Frithiof and 
 Sigrid danced the spring dans together with its graceful 
 evolutions and quaint gestures. Then nothing would do 
 but Frithiof must play to them on the violin, after which 
 Blanche volunteered to teach every one Sir Roger de Co- 
 verly, and old and young joined merrily in the country 
 dance, and so the evening passed on all too rapidly to its 
 close. It was a scene which somehow lived on in Cecil's 
 memory ; the merry dancers, the kindly landlord, Ole 
 Kvikne, sitting near the door and watching them, the ex- 
 pression of content visible in Herr Falck's face as he sat 
 beside him, the pretty faces and picturesque attire of Sig- 
 k rid and Swanhild, the radiant beauty of Blanche Morgan, 
 the unclouded happiness of Frithiof. 
 
 The evening had done her good, its informality, its 
 hearty, unaffected happiness and merriment made it a 
 strange contrast to any other dance she could recollect ; 
 yet even here there was a slight shadow. She could not 
 forget those words which she had overheard on board the 
 steamer, could not get rid of the feeling that some trouble 
 hung over the Falck family, and that hidden away, even 
 in this Norwegian paradise, there lurked somewhere the 
 inevitable serpent. Even as she mused over it, Frithiof 
 crossed the room and made his bow before her, and in 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 43 
 
 another minute had whirled her off. Happiness shone in 
 his eyes, lurked in the tones of his voice, added fresh spirit 
 to his dancing ; she thought she had never before seen 
 such an incarnation of perfect content. They talked of 
 Norwegian books, and her interest in his country seemed 
 to please him. 
 
 " You can easily get English translations of our best 
 novelists," he said. " You should read Alexander Kiel- 
 land's books, and Bjornsen's. I have had a poem of 
 Bjornsen's ringing all day in my head, we will make Sigrid 
 say it to us, for I only know the chorus." 
 
 Then as the waltz came to an end he led her toward his 
 sister, who was standing with Roy near the piano. 
 
 "We want you to say us Bjornsen's poem, Sigrid, in 
 which the refrain is, ' To day is just a day to my mind.' 
 I can't remember anything but the chorus." 
 
 " But it is rather a horrid little poem," said Sigrid hesi- 
 tating. 
 
 " Oh, let us have it, please let us have it," said Blanche, 
 joining them. " You have made me curious now." 
 
 So Sigrid, not liking to refuse, repeated first the poem 
 itself and then the English translation : 
 
 " The fox lay under the birch-tree's root 
 
 Beside the heather 
 And the hare bounded with lightsome foot 
 
 Over the heather : 
 ' To-day is just a day to my mind. 
 All sunny before and sunny behind 
 Over the heather ! ' 
 
 " And the fox laughed under the birch-tree's root 
 
 Beside the heather ; 
 And the hare frolicked with heedless foot 
 
 Over the heather ; 
 ' I am so glad about everything 1 
 1 So that is the way you dance and spring 
 
 Over the heather J ' 
 
44 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " And the fox lay in wait by the birch-tree's root 
 
 Beside the heather ; 
 And the hare soon tumbled close to his foot 
 
 Over the heather ; 
 
 ' Why, bless me ! ' is that you, my dear ! 
 However did you come dancing here 
 
 Over the heather ? " 
 
 " I had forgotten that it ended so tragically," said Frith- 
 iof, with a slight shrug of the shoulders. " Well, never 
 mind, it is only a poem ; let us leave melancholy to poets 
 and novelists, and enjy real life." 
 
 Just then a polka was struck up, and he hastily made his 
 bow to Blanche. 
 
 " And yet one needs a touch of tragedy in real life," she 
 observed, "or it becomes so dreadfully prosaic." 
 
 " Oh," said Frithiof, laughing, as he bore her off; " then 
 for Heaven's sake let us be prosaic to the end of the 
 chapter." 
 
 Cecil heard the words, they seemed to her to fit in 
 uncannily with the words of the poem ; she could not have 
 explained, and she did not try to analyze the little thrill of 
 pain that shot through her heart at the idea. Neither 
 could she have justified to herself the shuddering repulsion 
 she felt when Cyril Morgan drew near, intercepting her 
 view of Frithiof and Blanche. 
 
 " May I have the pleasure of this dance ? " he said, in his 
 condescending tone. 
 
 " Thank you, but I am so tired," she replied. " Too 
 tired for any more to night." 
 
 " Yes," said Sigrid, glancing at her. " You look worn 
 out. Munkeggen is a tiring climb. Let us come upstairs, 
 it is high time that naughty little sister of mine was in bed." 
 
 "The reward of virtue," said Cyril Morgan, rejoining 
 his cousin Florence. " I have been polite to the little 
 bourgeoise and it has cost me nothing. It is always best 
 in a place like this to be on good terms with every one. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 45 
 
 We shall never be likely to come across these people again, 
 the acquaintance is not likely to bore us." 
 
 His words were perfectly true. That curiously assorted 
 gathering of different nationalities would never again meet, 
 and yet those days of close intimacy were destined to influ- 
 ence forever, either for good or for evil, the lives of each 
 one. 
 
 All through the Sunday Blanche had kept in bed, for 
 though the excitement had kept her up on the previous 
 night, she inevitably suffered from the effects of her fall. 
 It was not till the Monday morning, just before the arrival 
 of the steamer, that Frithiof could find the opportunity for 
 which he had impatiently waited. They walked through 
 the little garden, ostensibly to watch for the steamer from 
 the mound by the flagstaff, but they only lingered there for 
 a minute, glancing anxiously down the fjord, where in the 
 distance could be seen the unwelcome black speck. On 
 the further side of the mound, down among the trees and 
 bushes, was a little sheltered seat. It was there that they 
 spent their last moments, there that Blanche listened to his 
 eager words of love, there that she again bade him wait till 
 October, at the same time giving him such hope and encour- 
 agement as must surely have satisfied the most exigeant 
 lover. 
 
 All too soon the bustle of departure reached them, and 
 the steam-whistle most hateful and discordant of sounds 
 rang and resounded among the mountains. 
 
 " I must go," she exclaimed, " or they will be coming 
 to look for me. This is our real good-bye. On the steamer 
 it will be just a hand-shake, but now " 
 
 And she lifted a lovely, glowing face to his. 
 
 Then, presently, as they walked down to the little pier, 
 she talked fast and gaily of all they would do when he 
 came to England ; she talked because, for once, he was 
 absolutely silent, and because she was afraid that her uncle 
 would guess their secret ; perhaps it was a relief to her 
 
46 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 that Frithiof volunteered to run back to the hotel for Mr. 
 Morgan's opera-glass, which had been left by mistake in 
 the salon, so that, literally, there was only time for the 
 briefest of farewells on the steamer. He went through it 
 all in a business-like fashion, smiling mechanically in res- 
 ponse to the good wishes, then, with a heavy heart step- 
 ping on shore. Herr Falck, who was returning to Bergen 
 by the same boat which took the other travelers only as 
 far as Vadhein, was not ill pleased to see his son's evident 
 dejection; he stood by the bulwarks watching him and 
 saying a word or two now and then to Blanche, who was 
 close by him. 
 
 " Why, see ! " he exclaimed, " the fellow is actually coming 
 on board again. We shall be carrying him away with us 
 if he doesn't take care." 
 
 " A thousand pardons ! " Frithiof had exclaimed, shaking 
 hands with Cecil and Roy Boniface. " I did not see you 
 before. A pleasant journey to you. You must come 
 again to Norway some day, and let us all meet once more." 
 
 " Vaer saa god!" exclaimed one of the sailors; and 
 Frithiof had to spring down the gangway. 
 
 " To our next merry meeting," said Roy, lifting his hat ; 
 and then there was a general waving of handkerchiefs from 
 the kindly little crowd on the pier and from the parting 
 guests, and, in all the babel and confusion, Frithiof was 
 conscious only of Blanche's clear " Auf wiederehn /" and 
 saw nothing but the sweet, dark eyes, which to the very last 
 dwelt on him. 
 
 " Well, that is over ! " he said to Sigrid, pulling himself 
 together, and stifling a sigh. 
 
 " Perhaps they will come here next year," suggested 
 Sigrid, consolingly. 
 
 " Perhaps I shall go to England next autumn," said 
 Frithiof with a smile. 
 
 " So soon ! " she exclaimed, involuntarily. 
 
 He laughed, for the words were such a curious contra* 
 diction to the ones which lurked in his own mind. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 47 
 
 " Oh ! you call two months a short time ! " he exclaimed ; 
 " and to me it seems an eternity. You will have to be very 
 forbearing, for I warn you such a waiting time is very little 
 to my taste." 
 
 " Then why did you not speak now, before she went 
 away ? " 
 
 " You wisest of advisers!" he said, with a smile; "I 
 did speak yesterday." 
 
 " Yesterday ! " she cried, eagerly. " Yesterday, on Mun- 
 keggen ? " 
 
 "Yes ; all that now remains is to get Mr. Morgan's con- 
 sent to our betrothal." 
 
 " Oh, Frithiof, I am so glad ! so very glad ! How 
 pleased father will be ! I think you must write and let him 
 know." 
 
 " If he will keep it quite secret," said Frithiof; "but of 
 course not a word must be breathed until her father has 
 consented. There is no engagement as yet, only we know 
 that we love each other." 
 
 " That ought to be enough to satisfy you till the autumn. 
 And it was so nice of you to tell me, Frithiof. Oh, I don't 
 think I could have borne it if you had chosen to marry 
 some girl I didn't like. As for Blanche, there never was 
 any one more sweet and lovely." 
 
 It seemed that Frithiof s happiness was to bring happiness 
 to the whole family. Even little Swanhild guessed the true 
 state of things, and began to frame visions of the happy 
 future when the beautiful English girl should become her 
 own sister ; while as to Herr Falck, the news seemed to 
 banish entirely the heavy depression which for some time 
 had preyed upon him. And so, in spite of the waiting, the 
 time slipped by quickly to Frithiof, the mere thought of 
 Blanche's love kept him rapturously happy ; and at the 
 pretty villa in Kalvedalen there was much laughter and 
 mirth, and music and singing much eager expectation and 
 hope, and much planning of a future life which should be 
 even more full and happy. 
 
48 A HARDY NORSEMAN 1 . 
 
 At length, v/hen the afternoons closed in early, and the 
 long winter was beginning to give signs of its approach, 
 Frithiof took leave of his home, and, on one October 
 Saturday, started on his voyage to England. It was, in a 
 sense, the great event of his life, and they all instinctively 
 knew that it was a crisis, so that Sigrid drew aside little 
 Swanhild at the last, and left the father and son to have 
 their parting words alone. 
 
 11 1 look to you, Frithiof," the father said, eagerly. " I 
 look to you to carry out the aims which I myself have 
 failed to live the life I could wish to have lived. May 
 God grant you the wife who will best help you in the 
 struggle ! I sometimes think, Frithiof, that things might 
 have gone very differently with me had your mother been 
 spared." 
 
 " Do you not let this depression influence you too much, 
 father ? " said Frithiof. " Why take such a dark view of 
 your own life ? I shall only be too happy if I make as 
 much of the world as you have done. I wish you could 
 have come to England too. I think you want change and 
 rest." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Herr Falck, laughing, " once over there 
 you will not echo that wish. No, no, you are best by 
 yourself when you go a wooing, my son. Besides, I could 
 not possibly leave home just now ; we shall have the 
 herring-fleet back from Iceland before many days." 
 
 Then as the signal was given that all friends of the 
 passengers must leave the steamer, he took Frithiof s hand 
 and held it fast in his. 
 
 " God bless you, my boy I think you will bring honour 
 to our name, sooner or later. Now, Sigrid, wish him well, 
 and let us be off." 
 
 He called little Swanhild to him, and walked briskly 
 down the gangway, then stood on the quay, talking very 
 cheerfully, his momentary depression quite past. Before 
 long the steamer began to glide off, and Frithiof, even in 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN". 40 
 
 the midst of his bright expectations, felt a pang as he 
 waved a farewell to those he left behind him. 
 
 "A happy return to Gammk Norge!" shouted Herr 
 Falck. 
 
 And Sigrid and Swanhild stood waving their hand- 
 kerchiefs till the steamer could no longer be seen. 
 
 " I am a fool to mind gcing away ! " reflected Frithiof. 
 " In three weeks' time I shall be at home again. And the 
 next time I leave Bergen, why who knows, perhaps it will 
 be to attend my own wedding ! " 
 
 And with that he began to pace the deck, whistling, as 
 he walked, " The Bridal Song of the Hardanger." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE event to which we have long eagerly looked forward 
 is seldom all that we have expected , and Frithiof, who for 
 the last too months had been almost hourly rehearsing his 
 arrival in England, felt somewhat depressed and dis- 
 illusioned when, one chilly Monday morning, he first set 
 foot on English soil. The southerner, arriving at Folke- 
 stone or Dover, with their white cliffs ; nd sunny aspect, 
 gains a cheerful impression as he step ; ashore ; but the 
 Norwegian, leaving behind him his mountains and fjords, 
 and coming straight to that most dingy and unattractive 
 town, Hull, is at a great disadvantage. 
 
 A fine drizzling rain was falling ; in the early morning 
 the shabby, dirty houses looked their very worst. Swarms 
 of grimy little children had been turned out of their homes, 
 and were making their way to morning school, and hun- 
 dreds of busy men and women were hurrying through the 
 streets, all with worn, anxious-looking faces. As he 
 walked to the railway station, Frithiof felt almost over- 
 powered by the desolateness of the place. To be a mere 
 
5 o A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 unit in this unthinking, unheeding crowd, to be pushed 
 and jostled by the hurrying passengers, who all walked as 
 if their very lives depended on their speed, to hear around 
 him the rapidly-spoken foreign language, with its strange 
 north country accent, all made him feel very keenly that 
 he was indeed a foreigner in a strange land. He was glad 
 to be once more in a familiar-looking train, and actually 
 on his way to London ; and soon all these outer impression 
 faded away in the absorbing consciousness that he was 
 actually on his way to Blanche that on the very next day 
 he might hope to see her again. 
 
 Fortunately the Tuesday proved to be a lovely, still 
 autumn day. He did not like to call upon Mr. Morgan 
 till the afternoon, and, indeed, thought that he should 
 scarcely find him at home earlier, so he roamed about 
 London, and looked at his watch about four times an hour, 
 till at length the time came when he could call a hansom 
 and drive to Lancaster Gate. 
 
 There are some houses which the moment you enter them 
 suggest to you the idea of money. The Morgans' house 
 was one of these ; everything was faultlessly arranged, 
 your feet sunk into the softest of carpets, you were served 
 by the most obsequious of servants, all that was cheap or 
 common or ordinary was banished from view, and you felt 
 that the chair you sat on was a very superior chair, that 
 all the pictures and ornaments were the very best that 
 could be bought, and that ordinary people who could not 
 boast of a very large income were only admitted into 
 this aggressively superior dwelling on sufferance. With 
 all its grandeur, it was not a house which tempted you to 
 break the tenth commandment ; it inspired you with a 
 kind of wonder, and if the guests had truly spoken the 
 thought which most frequently occurred to them, it would 
 have been : " I wonder now what he gave for this ? It must 
 have cost a perfect fortune ! " 
 
 As to Frithiof, when he was shown into the great empty 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 51 
 
 drawing-room with its luxurious couches and divans, and its 
 wonderful collection of the very best upholstery and the 
 most telling works of art, he felt, as strongly as he had 
 felt in the dirty streets of Hull, that he was a stranger and a 
 foreigner. In the whole room there was nothing which 
 suggested to him the presence of Blanche ; on the contrary, 
 there was everything which combated the vision of those 
 days at Balholm and of their sweet freedom. He felt 
 stifled, and involuntarily crossed the room and looked 
 from the window at the green grass in Kensington 
 Gardens, and the tall elm trees with their varying autumn 
 tints. 
 
 Before many minutes had passed, however, his host 
 came into the room, greeting him politely but somewhat 
 stiffly. " Glad to make your acquaintance," he said, 
 scanning him a little curiously as he spoke. " I heard of 
 you, of course, from my brother. I am sure they are all 
 very much indebted to you for planning their Norwegian 
 tour for them so well." 
 
 Had he also heard of him from Blanche? Had she 
 indeed prepared the way for him ? Or would his request 
 come as a surprise? These were the thoughts which 
 rushed through Frithiofs mind as he sat opposite the 
 Englishman and noted his regular features, short, neat- 
 looking, gray beard, closely cropped hair, and rather cold 
 eyes. 
 
 Any one watching the two could scarcely have conceived 
 a greater contrast : the young Norwegian, eager, hopeful, 
 bearing in his face the look of one who has all the world 
 before him ; the middle-aged Englishman who had bought 
 his experience, and in whose heart enthusiasm, and eager 
 enjoyment of life, and confident belief in those he encoun- 
 tered, had long ceased to exist. Nevertheless, though Mr. 
 Morgan was a hard-headed and a somewhat cold-blooded 
 man, he felt a little sorry for his guest, and reflected to 
 himself that such a fine-looking fellow was far more fit for 
 the Dost at Stavanzer than his own son Cvril. 
 
52 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " It is curious that you should have come to-day," he 
 remarked, after they had exchanged the usual platitudes 
 about the weather and the voyage and the first impressions 
 of England. " Only to-day the final decision was arrived 
 at about this long mooted idea of the new branch of our 
 firm at Stavanger. Perhaps you have heard rumours of it ? " 
 
 " I have heard nothing at all," said Frithiof. " My father 
 did not even mention it." 
 
 " It is scarcely possible that he has heard nothing of the 
 idea," said Mr. Morgan. " When I saw you I thought 
 he had sent you over on that very account. However, you 
 have not as yet gone into the business, I understand ? " 
 
 " I am to be taken into partnership this autumn," said 
 Frithiof. " I was of age the other day, and have only 
 waited for that." 
 
 " Strange," said Mr. Morgan, " that only this very 
 morning the telegram should have been sent to your father. 
 Had I known you were in England, I would have waited. 
 One can say things better face to face. And yet I don't 
 know how that could have been either, for there was a 
 sudden chance of getting good promises at Stavanger, and 
 delay was impossible. I shall, of course, write fully to 
 your father by the next mail, and I will tell him that it is 
 with great regret we sever our connection with him." 
 
 Frithiof was so staggered by this unexpected piece of 
 news, that for a minute all else was driven from his mind. 
 
 " He will be very sorry to be no longer your agent," he 
 said. 
 
 " And I shall be sorry to lose him. Herr Falck has 
 always been most honourable. I have the greatest respect 
 for him. Still, business is business ; one can't afford to 
 sentimentalize in life over old connections. It is certainly 
 best in the interests of our firm to set up a branch of our 
 own with its headquarters at Stavanger. My son will go 
 out there very shortly." 
 
 "The telegram is only just sent, you say?" asked 
 Frithiof. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 53 
 
 " The first thing this morning," replied Mr. Morgan. 
 " It was decided on last night. By this time your father 
 knows all about it ; indeed, I almost wonder we have had 
 no reply from him. You must not let the affair make any 
 breach between us ; it is, after all, a mere business neces- 
 sity. I must find out from Mrs. Morgan what free nights 
 we have, and you must come and dine with us. I will 
 write and let you know. Have you any particular business 
 in London ? or have you only come for the sake of travel- 
 ing?" 
 
 " I came to see you, sir," said Frithiof, his heart beating 
 quickly, though he spoke with his usual directness. " I 
 came to ask your consent to my betrothal with your 
 daughter." 
 
 " With my daughter ! " exclaimed Mr. Morgan. " Be- 
 trothal ! What, in Heaven's name, can you be thinking 
 of?" 
 
 " I do not, of course, mean that there was a definite 
 engagement between us," said Frithiof, speaking all the 
 more steadily because of this repulse. " Of course we 
 could not have thought of that until we had asked your 
 consent. We agreed that I should come over this autumn 
 and speak to you about it ; nothing passed at Balholm 
 but just the assurance that we loved each other." 
 
 " Loved each other ! " ejaculated Mr. Morgan, beginning 
 to pace the room with a look of perplexity and annoyance. 
 " What folly will the girl commit next ? " 
 
 At this Frithiof also rose to his feet, the angry colour 
 rising to his face. " I should never have spoken of my 
 love to your daughter had I not been in a position to 
 support her," he said, hotly. " By your English standards 
 I may not, perhaps, be very rich, but our firm is one of the 
 leading firms in Bergen. We come of a good old Norwe- 
 gian family. Why should it be a folly for your daughter 
 to love me ? " 
 
 " You misunderstand me," said Mr. Morgan. "I don't 
 
54 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 wish to say one word against yourself. However, as you 
 have alluded to the matter, I must tell you plainly that I 
 expect my daughter to make a very different marriage. 
 Money I can provide her with. Her husband will supply 
 her with a title." 
 
 " What ! " cried Frithiof, furiously, " you will force her 
 to marry some wretched aristocrat whom she can't possibly 
 love? For the sake of a mere title you will ruin her 
 happiness ! " 
 
 " I shall certainly do nothing of the kind," said the 
 Englishman with a touch of dignity. " Sit down, Herr 
 Falck, and listen to me. I would have spared you this 
 had it been possible. You are very young, and you have 
 taken things for granted too much. You believed that th< 
 first pretty girl that flirted with you was your future wife 
 I can quite fancy that Blanche was well pleased to have 
 you dancing attendance on her in Norway, but it was or 
 her part nothing but a flirtation ; she does not care for you 
 in the least." 
 
 " I do not believe it," said Frithiof, hotly. 
 
 "Don't think that I wish to excuse her," said Mi 
 Morgan. . " She is very much to be blamed. But she u. 
 pretty and winsome, she knows her own power, and il 
 pleases her to use it j women are all of them vain and selfish. 
 What do they care for the suffering they cause ? " 
 
 " You shall not say such things of her," cried Frithiof, 
 desperately. " It is not true. It can't be true ! " 
 
 His face had grown deathly vpale, and he was trembling 
 with excitement. Mr. Morgan felt sorry for him. 
 
 " My poor fellow," he said, kindly, " don't take it so 
 hard. You are not the first man who has been deceived. 
 I am heartily sorry that my child's foolish thoughtless- 
 ness should have given you this to bear. But after all, it's 
 a lesson every one has to learn ; you were inexperienced 
 and young." 
 
 "It is not possible ! " repeated Frithiof in terrible agi- 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 55 
 
 tation, remembering vividly her promises, her words of 
 love, her kisses, the expression of her eyes, as she had 
 yielded to his eager declaration of love. " I will never 
 believe it possible till I hear it from her own lips." 
 
 With a gesture of annoyance Mr. Morgan crossed the 
 room and rang the bell. " Well, let it be so, then," he 
 said, coldly. " Blanche has treated you ill ; I don't doubt 
 it for a moment, and you will have every right to hear the 
 explanation from herself." Then, as the servant appeared, 
 " Tell Miss Morgan that I want her in the drawing-room. 
 Desire her to come at once." 
 
 The minutes of waiting which followed were the worst 
 Frithiof had ever lived through. Doubt, fear, indignation, 
 and passionate love strove together in his heart, while 
 mingled with all was the oppressive consciousness of his 
 host's presence, and of the aggressive superiority of the 
 room and its contents. 
 
 Perhaps the waiting was not altogether pleasant to Mr. 
 Morgan ; he poked the fire and moved about restlessly. 
 When, at last, light footsteps were heard on the stairs, and 
 Blanche entered the room, he turned toward her with evi- 
 dent displeasure in his face. 
 
 She wore a dress of reddish brown with a great deal of 
 plush about it, and something in the way it was made sug- 
 gested the greatest possible contrast to the little simple 
 traveling-dress she had worn in Norway. Her eyes were 
 bright and eager, her loveliness as great as ever. 
 
 " You wanted me, papa? " she began ; then, as she came 
 forward and recognised Frithiof, she save a little start of 
 dismay and the colour burned in her cheeks. 
 
 " Yes, I wanted you," said Mr. Morgan, gravely. " Herr 
 Falck's son has just arrived." 
 
 She struggled hard to recover herself. 
 
 " I am very glad to see you again," she said, forcing up 
 a little artificial laugh and holding out her hand 
 
 But Frithiof had seen her first expression of dismay, and 
 
56 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 it had turned him into ice ; he would not take her prof- 
 fered hand, but only bowed formally. There was a painful 
 silence. 
 
 " This is not the first time, Blanche, that you have learned 
 what comes of playing with edged tools," said Mr. Morgan, 
 sternly. " I heard from others that you had flirted with 
 Herr Falck's son in Norway ; I now learn that it was by 
 your own suggestion that he came to England to ask my 
 consent to an engagement, and that you allowed him to 
 believe that you loved him. What have you to say for 
 yourself? " 
 
 While her father spoke, Blanche had stood by with bent 
 head and downcast eyes ; at this direct question she looked 
 up for a moment. 
 
 " I thought I did care for him just at the time," she fal- 
 tered. " It it was a mistake." 
 
 " Why, then, did you not write and tell him so ? It was 
 the least you could have done," said her father. 
 
 " It was such a difficult letter to write," she faltered. 
 " I kept putting it off, and hoping that he, too, would find 
 out his mistake. And then sometimes I thought I could 
 explain it all better to him if he came." 
 
 Frithiof made a step or two forward ; his face was pale 
 and rigid ; the blue seemed to have died out of his eyes 
 they looked like steel. " I wait for your explanation," he 
 said, in a voice which, in spite of its firmness, betrayed 
 intense agitation. 
 
 Mr. Morgan without a word quitted the room, and the 
 two were left alone. Again there was a long expressive 
 silence. Then, with a sob, Blanche turned away, sinking 
 down on an ottoman and covering her face with her hands. 
 Her tears instantly melted Frithiof; his indignation and 
 wounded pride gave place to love and tenderness ; a sort 
 of wild hope rose in his mind. 
 
 " Blanche ! Blanche ! " he cried. " It isn't true ! It 
 can't be all over ! Others have been urging you to make 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 57 
 
 some grand marriage to be the wife perhaps of some rich 
 nobleman. But he cannot love, you as I love you. Oh ! 
 have you forgotten how you told me I might trust to you ? 
 There is not a moment since then that you have not been 
 in my thoughts." 
 
 " I hoped so you would forget," she sobbed. 
 
 " How could I forget ? What man could help remem- 
 bering you day and night ? Oh ! Blanche, don't you 
 understand that I love you ? I love you ! " 
 
 " I understand only too well," she said, glancing at him, 
 her dark eyes brimming over with tears. 
 
 He drew nearer. 
 
 " And you will love me once more," he said, passion- 
 ately. " You will not choose rank and wealth ; you will '' 
 
 "Oh, hush! hush!" she cried. "It has all been d 
 dreadful mistake. I never really loved you. Oh, don't 
 look like that ! I was very dull in Norway there was no 
 one else but you. I am sorry ; very sorry." 
 
 He started back from her as if she had dealt him some 
 mortal blow, but Blanche went on, speaking quickly and 
 incoherently, never looking in his face. 
 
 " After we went away I began to see all the difficulties 
 so plainly our belonging to different countries, and being 
 accustomed to different things ; but still I did really think 
 I liked you till we got to Christiania. There, on the 
 steamer coming home, I found that it had all been a mis- 
 take." 
 
 She paused. All this time she had carefully kept the 
 fingers of her left hand out of view ; the position was too 
 constrained not to attract Frithiof s notice. 
 
 He remembered that, in the wearing of betrothal or 
 wedding-rings, English custom reversed the Norwegian, and 
 turned upon her almost fiercely. 
 
 " Why do you try to hide that from me ? " he cried. 
 " Are you already betrothed to this other man ? " 
 
 " It was only last Sunday," she sobbed. " And I meant 
 to write to you ; I did indeed/' 
 
58 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 Once more she covered her face with her hands, this 
 time not attempting to hide from Frithiof the beautiful 
 circlet of brilliants on her third finger. 
 
 It seemed to him that giant hands seized on him then 
 and crushed out of him his very life. Yet the pain of living 
 went on remorselessly, and as if from a very great distance 
 he heard Blanche's voice. 
 
 " I am engaged to Lord Romiaux," she said. " He had 
 been in Norway on a fishing tour, but it was on the 
 steamer that we first met. And then almost directly I 
 knew that at Munkeggen it had all been quite a mistake, 
 and that I had never really loved you. We met again at one 
 of the watering-places in September, but it was only 
 settled the day before yesterday. I wish oh, how I wish 
 that I had written to tell you ! " 
 
 She stood up impulsively and drew nearer to him. 
 
 " Is there nothing 1 can do to make up for my mistake ? " 
 she said, lifting pathetic eyes to his. 
 
 " Nothing," he said, bitterly. 
 
 " Oh, don't think badly of me for it," she pleaded. 
 " Don't hate me." 
 
 " Hate you ? " he exclaimed. " It will be the curse of 
 my life that I love you that you have made me love 
 you." 
 
 He turned as though to go away. 
 
 " Don't go without saying good-bye," she exclaimed ; 
 and her eyes said more plainly than words, " I do not 
 mind if you kiss me just once more." 
 
 He paused, ice one minute, fire the next, yet through it 
 all aware that his conscience was urging him to go without 
 delay. 
 
 Blanche watched him tremulously ; she drew yet nearer. 
 
 " Could we not still be friends ? " she said, with a 
 pathetic little quiver in her voice. 
 
 " No," he cried, vehemently, yet with a certain dignity 
 in his manner ; " no, we could not." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 59 
 
 Then, before Blanche could recover enough from her 
 sense of humiliation at this rebuff to speak, he bowed to 
 her and left the room. 
 
 She threw herself down on the sofa and buried her face 
 in the cushions. "Oh, what must he think of me? what 
 must he think of me ? " she sobbed. " How I wish I had 
 written to him at once and saved myself this dreadful 
 scene ! How could I have been so silly ! so dreadfully 
 silly ! To be afraid of writing a few words in a letter ! My 
 poor Viking ! he looked so grand as he turned away. I 
 wish we could have been friends still ; it used to be so 
 pleasant in Norway; he was so unlike other people; he 
 interested me. And now it is all over, and I shall never 
 be able to meet him again. Oh, I have managed very 
 badly. If I had not been so imprudent on Munkeggen 
 he might have been my cavalier all his life, and I should 
 have liked to show him over here to people. I should 
 have liked to initiate him in everything." 
 
 The clock on the mantel-piece struck five. She started 
 up and ran across to one of the mirrors, looking anxiously 
 at her eyes. " Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! what shall I do ? " 
 she thought. li Algernon will be here directly, and I have 
 made a perfect object of myself with crying." Then, as 
 the door-bell rang, she caught up a couvrette, sunk down 
 on the sofa, and covered herself up picturesquely. " There 
 is nothing for it but a bad headache," she said to herself. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ON the stairs Frithiof was waylai.d by Mr. Morgan ; it was 
 with a sort of surprise that he heard his own calm replies 
 to the Englishman's polite speeches, and regrets, and 
 inquiries as to when he returned to Norway, for all the 
 time his head was swimming, and it was astonishing that 
 he could frame a correct English phrase. The thought 
 
60 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 occurred to him that Mr. Morgan would be glad enough 
 to get rid of him and to put an end to so uncomfortable a 
 visit ; he could well imagine the shrug of relief with which 
 the Englishman would return to his fireside, with its 
 aggressively grand fender and fire-irons, and would say to 
 himself, " Well, poor devil, I am glad he is gone ! A most 
 provoking business from first to last." For the Morgans 
 the affair would probably end as soon as the door had 
 closed behind him, but for himself it would drag on and 
 on indefinitely. He walked on mechanically past the 
 great houses which, to his unaccustomed eyes, looked so 
 palatial ; every little trivial thing seemed to obtrude itself 
 upon him ; he noticed the wan, haggard-looking crossing- 
 sweeper, who tried his best to find something to sweep on 
 that dry, still day when even autumn leaves seldom fell ; 
 he noticed the pretty spire of the church, and heard the 
 clock strike five, reflecting that one brief half-hour had 
 been enough to change his whole life to bring him from 
 the highest point of hope and eager anticipation to this 
 lowest depth of wretchedness. The endless succession of 
 great, monotonous houses grew intolerable to him ; he 
 crossed the road and turned into Kensington Gardens, 
 aware, as the first wild excitement died down in his heart, 
 of a cold, desolate blankness, the misery of which appalled 
 him. What was the meaning of it all ? How could it 
 possibly be borne? Only by degrees did it dawn upon 
 his overwrought brain that Blanche's faithlessness had 
 robbed him of much more than her love. It had left him 
 stripped and wounded on the highway of life ; it had 
 taken from him all belief in woman ; it had made forever 
 impossible for him his old creed of the joy of mere exist- 
 ence ; it had killed his youth. Was he now to get up, 
 and crawl on, and drag through the rest of his life as best 
 might be ? Why, what was life worth to him now ? He 
 had been a fool ever to believe in it ; it was as she herself 
 once told him, he had believed that it was all-sufficient 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN; ^ 
 
 merely because he had never known unhappiness never 
 known the agony that follows wh'ix, f '"- 
 
 " The first time Nature ^stys plain ' No 
 
 To some ' Yes ' in you, and walks over you 
 
 In gorgeous sweeps of scorn." 
 
 His heart was so utterly dead that he could not even think 
 ^f his home j neither his father nor Sigrid rose before him 
 j.s he looked down that long, dreary vista of life that lay 
 beyond. He could see only that Blanche was no longer 
 his ; that the Blanche he had loved and believed in had 
 never really existed ; that he had been utterly deceived 
 cheated, defrauded ; and that something had been taken 
 from him which could never return. 
 
 " I will not live a day longer," he said to himself; " not 
 an hour longer." And in the relief of having some attain- 
 able thing to desire ardently, were it only death and anni- 
 hilation, he quickened his pace, and felt a sort of renewal 
 of energy and life within him, urging him on, holding 
 before him the one aim which he thought was worth 
 pursuing. He would end it all quickly, he would not 
 linger on, weakly bemoaning his fate, or railing at life for 
 having failed him and disappointed his hopes ; he would' 
 just put an end to everything without more ado. As to 
 arguing with himself about the right or wrong of the 
 matter, such a notion never occurred to him, he just 
 walked blindly on, certain that some opportunity would 
 present itself, buoyed up by an unreasoning hope that 
 death would bring him relief. 
 
 By this time he had reached Hyde Park, and a vague 
 memory came back to him ; he remembered that, as he 
 drove to Lancaster Gate that afternoon, he had crossed a 
 bridge. There was water over there. It should be that 
 way. And he walked on more rapidly than before, st?Jl 
 with an almost dazzling perception of all the trifling little 
 details, the colour of the dry, dusty road, the green of the 
 turi\ *he dresses of those who passed by him, the spund e 
 
62 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 their voices, the strange incongruity of their perfectly un- 
 concerned, contented faces. He would get away from all 
 this would wait till it was dusk, when he could steal down 
 unnoticed to the water. Buoyed up by this last hope of 
 relief, he walked along the north shore of the Serpentine, 
 passed the Receiving House of the Royal Humane 
 Society, with an unconcerned thought that his lifeless 
 body would probably be taken there, passed the boat-house 
 with a fervent hope that no one there would try a rescue, 
 and at length, finding a seat under a tree close to the 
 water's edge, sat down to wait for the darkness. It need 
 not be for long, for already the sun was setting, and over 
 toward the west he could see that behind the glowing 
 orange and russet of the autumn trees was a background 
 of crimson sky. The pretty little wooded island and the 
 round green boat-house on the shore stood out in strong 
 relief ; swans and ducks swam about contentedly ; on the 
 further bank was a dark fringe of trees ; away to the left 
 the three arches of a gray-stone bridge. In the evening 
 light it made a fair picture, but the beauty of it seemed 
 only to harden him, for it reminded him of past happiness ; 
 he turned with sore-hearted relief to the nearer view of the 
 Serpentine gleaming coldly as its waters washed the shore, 
 and to the dull monotony of the path in front of him with 
 its heaps of brown leaves. A bird sat singing in the 
 beech-tree above him, its song jarred on him just as much 
 as the beauty of the sunset, it seemed to urge him to leave 
 the place where he was not needed, to take himself out of 
 a world which was meant for beauty and brightness and 
 success, a world which had no sympathy for failure or 
 misery. He longed for the song to cease, and he longed 
 for the sunset glory to fade, he was impatient for the end ; 
 the mere waiting for that brief interval became to him 
 almost intolerable ; only the dread of being rescued held 
 him back. 
 
 Presently footsteps on the path made him look up ; a 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN, 63 
 
 shabbily dressed girl walked slowly by, she was absorbed 
 in a newspaper story and did not notice him ; neither did 
 she notice her charge, a pale-faced, dark-eyed little girl of 
 about six years old who followed her at some distance, 
 chanting a pretty, monotonous, little tune as she dragged 
 a toy-cart along the gravel. Frithiof, with the preter- 
 natural powers of observation which seemed his that day, 
 noticed in an instant every tiniest detail of the child's face 
 and dress and bearing, the curious anatomy of the wooden 
 horse, the heap of golden leaves in the little cart. As the 
 child drew nearer, the words of the song became perfectly 
 audible to him. She sang very slowly, and in a sort of 
 unconscious way, as if she couldn't help it, 
 " Comfort every sufferer 
 Watching late in pain " 
 
 She paused to put another handful of leaves into the cart, 
 arranged them with great care, patted the wooden steed, 
 and resumed her song as if there had been no interrup- 
 tion 
 
 " Those who plan some evil 
 From their sin restrain." 
 
 Frithiof felt as if a knife had been suddenly plunged 
 mto him ; he tried to hear more, but the words died away, 
 he could only follow the monotonous little tune in the clear 
 voice, and the rattling of the toy cart on the pathway. 
 And so the child passed on out of sight, and he saw her no 
 more. 
 
 He was alone again, and the twilight for which he had 
 longed was fast closing in upon him ; a sort of blue haze 
 seemed gathering over the park ; night was coming on. 
 What was this horrible new struggle which was beginning 
 within him? "Evil," "sin;" could he not at least do 
 what he would with his own life ? Where was the harm 
 in ending that which was hopelessly spoiled and ruined? 
 Was not suicide a perfectly legitimate ending to a life ? 
 
 A voice within him answered his question plainly : 
 
64 A HARDY NORSEMAN*. 
 
 " To the man with a diseased brain the man who 
 doesn't know what he is about it is no worse an end than 
 to die in bed of a fever. But to you you who are afraid 
 of the suffering of life, you who know quite well what you 
 are doing to you it is sin." 
 
 Fight against it as he would, he could not stifle this new 
 consciousness which had risen within him. What had led 
 him, he angrily wondered, to choose that particular place 
 to wait in ? What had made that child walk past? What 
 had induced her to sing those particular words? Did 
 that vague First Cause, in whom after a fashion he believed, 
 take any heed of trifles such as those? He would never 
 believe that. Only women or children could hold such a 
 creed ; only those who led sheltered, innocent, ignorant 
 lives. But a man a man who had just learned what the 
 world really was, who saw that the weakest went to the 
 wall, and might triumphed over right a man who had 
 once believed in the beauty of life and had been bitterly 
 disillusioned could never believe in a God who ordered 
 all things for good. It was a chance, a mere unlucky 
 chance, yet the child's words had made it impossible for 
 him to die in peace. 
 
 As a matter of fact the sunset sky and fading light had 
 suggested to the little one's untroubled mind the familiar 
 evening hymn with its graphic description of scenery, its 
 beautiful word-painting, its wide human sympathies ; and 
 ihat great mystery of life which links us together, whether 
 we know it or not, gave to the child the power to counter- 
 act the influence of Blanche Morgan's faithlessness, and to 
 appeal to one to whom the sight of that same sunset had 
 suggested only thoughts of despair. 
 
 A wild confusion of memories seemed to rush through 
 his mind, and blended with them always were the unwel- 
 come words and the quiet little chant. He was back at 
 home again talking with the olH pastor who had prepared 
 him for confirmation ; he was a mere boy once more, 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN; 65 
 
 unhesitatingly accepting all that he was taught; he was 
 standing up in the great crowded Bergen church, and 
 declaring his belief in Christ, and his entire willingness to 
 give up everything wrong ; he was climbing a mountain 
 with Blanche and arguing with her that life mere exis- 
 tence was beautiful and desirable. 
 
 Looking back afterward on the frightful struggle, it 
 seemed to him that for ages he had tossed to and fro in 
 that horrible hesitation. In reality all must have been 
 over within a quarter of an hour. There rose before him 
 the recollection of his father as he had last seen him stand- 
 ing on the deck of the steamer, and he remembered the 
 tone of his voice as he had said : 
 
 " I look to you, Frithiof, to carry out the aims in which 
 I myself have failed, to live the life that I could wish 
 to have lived." 
 
 He saw once again the wistful look in his father's eyes, the 
 mingled love, pride, and anxiety with which he had turned 
 to him, loath to let him go, and yet eager to speed him on 
 his way. Should he now disappoint all his hopes ? 
 Should he, deliberately and in the full possession of all his 
 faculties, take a step which must bring terrible suffering to 
 his home people ? And then he remembered for the first 
 time that already trouble and vexation and loss had over- 
 taken his father; he knew well how greatly he would 
 regret the connection with the English firm, and he pic- 
 tured to himself the familiar house in Kalvedalen with a 
 new and unfamiliar cloud upon it, till instead of the long- 
 ing for death there came to him a nobler longing a long- 
 ing to go back and help, a longing to make up to his 
 father for the loss and vexation and the slight which had 
 been put upon him. He began to feel ashamed of the 
 other wish, he began to realize that there was still some- 
 thing to be lived for, though indeed life looked to him as 
 dim and uninviting as the twilight park with its wreaths of 
 gray mist, and its unpeopled solitude. 
 
 3 
 
66 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 Yet still he would live; the other thought no longer 
 allured him, his strength and manliness were returning; 
 with bitter resolution he tore himself from the vision of 
 Blanche which rose mockingly before him, and, getting up, 
 made his way out of the park. 
 
 Emerging once more into the busy world of traffic at 
 Hyde Park corner, the perception of his forlorn desolate- 
 ness came to him with far more force than in the quiet 
 path by the Serpentine. For the first time he felt keenly 
 that he was in an unknown city, and there came over him 
 a sick longing for Norway, for dear old Bergen, for the 
 familiar mountains, the familiar faces, the friendly greet- 
 ings of passers-by. For a few minutes he stood still, 
 uncertain which road to take, wondering how in the world 
 he should get through the weary hours of his solitary even- 
 ing. Close by him a young man stood talking to the 
 occupants of a brougham which had drawn up by the 
 pavement ; he heard a word or two of their talk, dimly, 
 almost unconsciously. 
 
 " Is the result of the trial known yet ? " 
 
 " Yes, five years' penal servitude, and no more than he 
 deserves." 
 
 " The poor children ! what will become of them ? " 
 
 " Shall you be home by ten ? We won't hinder you, then.' 
 
 " Quite by ten. Tell father that Sardoni is free for the 
 night he wanted him; I met him just now. Good-bye.'' 
 Then to the coachman " Home ! " 
 
 The word startled Frithiof back to the recollection of 
 his own affairs ; he had utterly lost his bearings and must 
 ask for direction. He would accost this man who seemed 
 a little less in a hurry than the rest of the world. 
 
 " Will you kindly tell me the way to the Arundel 
 Hotel? "he asked. 
 
 The young man turned at the sound of his voice, looked 
 keenly at him for an instant, then held out his hand in 
 cordial welcome. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 67 
 
 " How are you ? " he exclaimed. " What a lucky 
 chance that we should have run across each other in the 
 dark like this ! Have you been long in England ? " 
 
 Frithiof, at the first word of hearty greeting, looked up 
 with startled eyes, and in the dim gas-light he saw the 
 honest English face and kindly eyes of Roy Boniface. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 MEANTIME the brougham had bowled swiftly away and its 
 two occupants had settled themselves down comfortably 
 as though they were preparing for a long drive. 
 
 " Are you warm enough, my child? Better let me have 
 this window down, and you put yours up," said Mrs. 
 Boniface, glancing with motherly anxiety at the fair face 
 beside her. 
 
 " You spoil me, mother dear," said Cecil. " And indeed 
 I do want you not to worry about me. I am quite strong, 
 if you would only believe it." 
 
 " Well, well, I hope you are," said Mrs. Boniface with 
 a sigh. " But any way it's more than you look, child." 
 
 And the mother thought wistfully of two graves in a dis- 
 tant cemetery where Cecil's sisters lay ; and she remem- 
 bered with a cruel pang that only a few days ago some 
 friend had remarked to her, with the thoughtless frankness 
 of a rapid talker, " Cecil is looking so pretty just now, 
 but she's got the consumptive look in her face, don't you 
 think ? " And these words lay rankling in the poor 
 mother's heart, even though she had been assured by the 
 doctors that there was no disease, no great delicacy even, 
 no cause whatever for anxiety. 
 
 " I am glad we have seen Doctor Royston," said Cecil, 
 " because now we shall feel quite comfortable, and you 
 won't be anxious any more, mother. It would be dread- 
 ful, I think, to have to be a sort of semi-invalid all one's 
 
68 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 life, though I suppose some people must enjoy it, since 
 Doctor Royston said that half the girls in London were 
 invalided just for want of sensible work. I rather believe, 
 mother, that is what has been the matter with me," and 
 she laughed. 
 
 " You, my dear ! " said Mrs. Boniface ; " I am sure you 
 are not at all idle at home. No one could say such a thing 
 of you." 
 
 " But I am always having to invent things to do to keep 
 myself busy," said Cecil. " Mother, I have got a plan in 
 my head now that would settle my work for five whole 
 years, and I do so want you to say ' yes' to it." 
 
 " It isn't that you want to go into some sisterhood ? " 
 asked Mrs. Boniface, her gentle gray eyes filling with tears. 
 
 '!,Oh, no, no," said Cecil, emphatically. " Why, how 
 could I ever go away from home and leave you, darling, 
 just as I am getting old enough to be of use to you ? It's 
 nothing of that kind, and the worst of it is that it would 
 mean a good deal of expense to father, which seems hardly 
 fair." 
 
 " He won't grudge that," said Mrs. Boniface. " Your 
 father would do anything to please you, dear. What is 
 this plan? Let me hear about it." 
 
 "Well, the other night when I was hearing all about 
 those poor Grantleys opposite to us how the mother had 
 left her husband and children and gone off no one knows 
 where, and then how the father had forged that check and 
 would certainly be imprisoned, I began to wonder what 
 sort of a chance the children had in the world. And no 
 one seemed to know or to care what would become of 
 them, except father, and he said we must try to get them 
 into some asylum or school." 
 
 " It isn't many asylums that would care to take them, 
 I expect," said Mrs. Boniface. " Poor little things, there's 
 a hard fight before them ! But what was your plan ? " 
 
 " Why, mother, it was just to persuade father to let them 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 69 
 
 come to us for the five years. Of course it would be an 
 expense to him, but I would teach them, and help to take 
 care of them ; and oh, it would be so nice to have children 
 about the house ! One can never be dull where there are 
 children." 
 
 " I knew sne was dull at home," thought the mother to 
 herself. " It was too much of a change for her to come 
 back from school, from so many educated people and young 
 friends, to an ignorant old women like me and a silent 
 house. Not that the child would ever allow it." 
 
 "But of course, darling," said Cecil, "I won't say a 
 word more about it if you think it would trouble you or 
 make the house too noisy." 
 
 " There is plenty of room for them, poor little mites," 
 said Mrs. Boniface. " And the plan is just like you, (Jear. 
 There's only one objection I have to it. I don't like your 
 binding yourself to work for so many years not just now 
 while you are so young. I should have liked you to marry, 
 dear." 
 
 " But I don't think that is likely," said Cecil. " And it 
 does seem so stupid to let the time pass on, and do nothing 
 for years and years, just because there is a chance that 
 some man whom you could accept may propose to you. 
 The chances are quite equal that it may not be so, and 
 then you have wasted a great part of your life." 
 
 <; I wish you could have fancied Herbert White," said 
 Mrs. Boniface, wistfully. " He would have made such a 
 good husband." 
 
 " I hope he will to some one else. But that would have 
 been impossible, mother, quite, quite impossible." 
 
 " Cecil, dearie, is there is there any one else? " 
 
 " No one, mother," said Cecil, quietly, and the colour in 
 her cheeks did not deepen, and Mrs. Boniface felt satisfied. 
 Yet, nevertheless, at that very moment there flashed into 
 Cecil's mind the perception of the real reason which had 
 made it impossible for her to accept the of/or of marriage 
 
70 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 that a week or two ago she had refused. She saw that 
 Frithiof Falck would always be to her a sort of standard by 
 which to measure the rest of mankind, and she faced the 
 thought quietly, for there never had been any question of 
 love between them ; he would probably marry the pretty 
 Miss Morgan, and it was very unlikely that she should ever 
 meet him again. 
 
 " The man whom I could accept must be that sort of 
 man," she thought to herself. " And there is something 
 degrading in the idea of standing and waiting for the 
 doubtful chance that such a one may some day appear. 
 Surely we girls were not born into the world just to stand 
 in rows waiting to get married ? " 
 
 "And I am sure I don't know what I should do without 
 you^ if you did get married," said Mrs. Boniface, driving 
 back the tears which had started to her eyes, " so I don't 
 know why I am so anxious that it should come about, 
 except that I should so like to see you happy." 
 
 " And so I am happy, perfectly happy," said Cecil, and 
 as she spoke she suddenly bent forward and kissed her 
 mother. " A girl would have to be very wicked not to be 
 happy with you and father and Roy to live with." 
 
 " I wish you were not cut off from so much," said Mrs. 
 Boniface. "You see, dear, if you were alone in the world 
 people would take you up I mean the style of people you 
 would care to be friends with but as long as there's the 
 shop, and as long as you have a mother who can't talk well 
 about recent books, and who is not always sure how to 
 pronounce things " 
 
 " Mother ! mother ! " cried Cecil, " how can you say 
 such things ? As long as I have you, what do I want with 
 any one else ? " 
 
 Mrs. Boniface patted the girl's hand tenderly. 
 
 " I like to talk of the books with you, dearie," she said, 
 " you understand that. There's nothing pleases me better 
 than to hear you read of an evening, and I'm very much 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 71 
 
 interested in that poor Mrs. Carlyle, though it does seem 
 to me it's a comfort to be in private life, where no biogra- 
 phers can come raking up all your foolish words and bits 
 of quarrels after you are dead and buried. Why, here we 
 are at home. How quick we have got down this evening. 
 As to your plan, dearie, I'll just talk it over with father the 
 very first chance I have." 
 
 " Thank you, mother. I do so hope he will let us have 
 them." And Cecil sprung out of the carriage with more 
 animation in her face than Mrs. Boniface had seen there 
 for a long time. 
 
 Mrs. Boniface was a Devonshire woman, and, notwith- 
 standing her five-and-twenty years of London life, she 
 still preserved something of her western accent and into- 
 nation ; she had also a gentle manner and the quiet consi- 
 deration and courtesy which seem innate in most west- 
 country people. As to education, she had received the 
 best that was to be had for tradesmen's daughters in the 
 days of her youth, but she was well aware that it did not 
 come up to modern requirements, and had taken good 
 care that Cecil should be brought up very differently. 
 There was something very attractive in her homely sim- 
 plicity ; and though she could not help regretting that 
 Cecil, owing to her position, was cut off from much that 
 other girls enjoyed, nothing would have induced her to try 
 to push her way in the world, she was too true a lady for 
 that, and, moreover, beneath all her gentleness had too 
 much dignity and independence of character. So it had 
 come to pass that they lived a very quiet life, with few 
 intimate friends and not too many acquaintances ; but 
 perhaps they were none the less happy for that. Cer- 
 tainly there was about the home a sense of peace and rest 
 not too often to be met with in this bustling nineteenth 
 century. 
 
 The opportunity for suggesting Cecil's plan to Mr. 
 Boniface came soon after they reached home. In that 
 
72 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 house things were wont to be quickly settled ; they were not 
 great at discussions, and perhaps this accounted in a great 
 measure for the peace of the domestic atmosphere. Cer- 
 tainly there is nothing so productive of family quarrels as 
 the habit of perpetually talking over the various arrange- 
 ments, household or personal, and many a good digestion 
 must have been ruined, and many a temper soured, by the 
 baneful habit of arguing the pros and cons of some vexed 
 question during breakfast or dinner. 
 
 Cecil was in the drawing-room, playing one of Chopin's 
 Ballades, when her father came into the room. He stood 
 by the fire till she had finished, watching her thoughtfully. 
 He was an elderly man, tall and spare, with a small, 
 shapely head, white hair and trim, white beard. His grey 
 eyes were honest and kindly, like his son's, and the face 
 was a good as well as a refined face. He was one of the 
 deacons of a Congregational chapel, and came of an old 
 Nonconformist family, which for many generations had 
 pleaded and suffered for religious liberty. Robert Boni- 
 face was true to his principles, and when his children grew 
 up, and, becoming old enough to go thoroughly into the 
 question, declared their wish to join the Church of 
 England, he made not the slightest objection. What was 
 more, he would not even allow them to see that it was a 
 grief to him. 
 
 " It is not to be supposed that every one should see 
 from one point of view," he had said to his wife. " We 
 are all of us looking to the same sun, and that is the great 
 thing." 
 
 Such divisions must always be a little sad, ~ut mutual 
 love and mutual respect made them in this case a positive 
 gain. There were no arguments, but each learned to see 
 and admire what was good in the other's view, to hold 
 staunchly to what was deemed right, and to live in that love 
 which practically nullifies all petty divisions and diffe* 
 rences. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 73 
 
 " And so I hear that you want to be mothering those 
 little children over the way," said Mr. Boniface when the 
 piece was ended. 
 
 Cecil crossed the room and stood beside him. 
 
 " What do you think about it, father ? " she asked. 
 
 " I think that before you decide you must realise that 
 it will be a great responsibility." 
 
 " I have thought of that," she said. " And of course 
 there is the expense to be thought of." 
 
 " Never mind about the expense ; I will undertake that 
 part of the matter if you will undertake the responsibility. 
 Do you quite realise that even pretty little children are 
 sometimes cross and naughty and ill ? " 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " Yes, yes ; I have seen those children in all aspects, 
 and they are rather spoiled. But I can't bear to think 
 that they will be sent to some great institution, with no 
 one to care for them properly." 
 
 " Then you are willing to undertake your share of the 
 bargain? " 
 
 " Quite." 
 
 " Very well, then, that is settled. Let us come across 
 and see if any one has stepped in before us." 
 
 Cecil, in great excitement, flew upstairs to tell her 
 mother, and reappeared in a minute or two in her hat and 
 jacket. Then the father and daughter crossed the quiet 
 suburban road to the opposite house, where such a diffe- 
 rent life-story had been lived. The door was opened to 
 them by the nurse ; she had evidently been crying, and 
 even as they entered the passage they seemed conscious 
 of the desolation of the whole atmosphere. 
 
 "Oh, miss, have you heard the verdict? " said the ser- 
 vant, who knew Cecil slightly, and was eager for sympa- 
 thy. " And what's to become of my little ones no one 
 seems to know." 
 
 " That is just what we came to inquire about/' r-sid Mr, 
 
74 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 Boniface. " We heard there were no relations to take 
 charge of them. Is that true ? " 
 
 " There's not a creature in the world to care for them, 
 sir," said the nurse. "There's the lawyer looking through 
 master's papers now, sir, and he says we must be out of 
 this by next week, and that he must look up some sort of 
 school where they'll take them cheap. A school for them 
 little bits of things, sir, isn't it enough to break one's 
 heart? And little Miss Gwen so delicate, and only a 
 lawyer to choose it, one as knows nothing but about parch- 
 ments and red tape, sir, and hasn't so much as handled a 
 child in his life, I'll be bound." 
 
 " If Mr. Grantley's solicitor is here I should like to speak 
 to him for a minute," said Mr. Boniface. " I'll be with 
 you again before long, Cecil, perhaps you could see the 
 children." 
 
 He was shown into the study which had belonged to 
 the master of the house, and unfolded Cecil's suggestion 
 to the lawyer, who proved to be a much more fatherly 
 sort of man than the nurse had represented. He was 
 quite certain that his client would be only too grateful for 
 so friendly an act. 
 
 " Things have gone hardly with poor Grantley," he 
 remarked. " And such an offer will be the greatest possi- 
 ble surprise to him. The poor fellow has not had a fair 
 chance ; handicapped with such a wife, one can almost for- 
 give him for going to the bad. I shall be seeing him once 
 more to-morrow, and will let you know what he says. But 
 of course there can be but one answer he will thankfully 
 accept your help." 
 
 Meanwhile Cecil had been taken upstairs to the nursery ; 
 it looked a trifle less desolate than the rest of the house, 
 yet lying on the table among the children's toys she saw 
 an evening paper with the account of the verdict and 
 sentence on John Grantley. 
 
 The nurse had gone into the adjoining room, but she 
 quickly returned. / 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 75 
 
 * They are asleep, miss, but you'll come in and see them, 
 won't you ? " 
 
 Cecil had wished for this, and followed her guide into 
 the dimly lighted night-nursery, where in two little cribs 
 lay her future charges. They were beautiful children, and 
 as she watched them in their untroubled sleep and thought 
 of the mother who had deserted them and disgraced her 
 name, and the father who was at that moment beginning 
 his five years of penal servitude, her heart ached for the 
 little ones, and more and more she longed to help them. 
 
 Lancelot, the elder of the two, was just four years old ; 
 he had a sweet, rosy, determined little face with a slightly 
 Jewish look about it, his curly brown hair was long enough 
 to fall back over the pillow, and in his fat little hand he 
 grasped a toy horse, which was his inseparable companion 
 night and day. The little girl was much smaller and much 
 more fragile-looking, though in some respects the two were 
 alike. Her baby face looked exquisite now in its perfect 
 peace, and Cecil did not wonder that the nurse's tears 
 broke forth again as she spoke of the little two year old 
 Gwen being sent to school. They were still talking about 
 the matter when Mr. Boniface rejoined them, the lawyer 
 also came in, and, to the nurse's surprise, even looked at 
 the sleeping children, " Quite human-like," as she remarked 
 afterward to the cook. 
 
 " Don't you distress yourself about the children," he said, 
 kindly. " It will be all right for them. Probably they 
 will only have to move across the road. We shall know 
 definitely about it to-morrow ; but this gentleman has 
 very generously offered to take care of them." 
 
 The nurse's tearful gratitude was interrupted by a sound 
 from one of the cribs. Lance, disturbed perhaps by the 
 voices, was talking in his sleep. 
 
 " Gee-up ! " he shouted in exact imitation of a carter, as 
 he waved the toy-horse in the air. 
 
 Every one laughed, and took the hint ; the lawyer went 
 
76 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 back to his work, and Mr. Boniface and Cecil, after a few 
 parting words with the happy servant, recrossed the road 
 to Rowan Tree House. 
 
 " Oh, father, it is so very good of you," said Cecil, 
 slipping her arm into his ; " I haven't been so happy for 
 an age ! " 
 
 " And I am happy," he replied, " that it is such a thing 
 as this which pleases my daughter." 
 
 After that there followed a delightful evening of antici- 
 pation, and Mrs. Boniface entered into the plan with her 
 whole heart and talked of nursery furniture put away in 
 the loft, and arranged the new nursery in imagination fifty 
 times over always with improvements. And this made 
 them talk of the past, and she began to tell amusing stories 
 of Roy and Cecil when they were children, and even went 
 back to remembrances of her own nursery life, in which a 
 stern nurse who administered medicine with a forcing spoon 
 figured largely. 
 
 " I believe," said the gentle old lady, laughing, " that it 
 was due to that old nurse of mine that I never could bear 
 theological arguments. She began them when we were so 
 young that we took a fatal dislike to them. I can well 
 remember, as a little thing of four years old, sitting on the 
 punishment chair in the nursery when all the others were 
 out at play, and wishing that Adam and Eve hadn't 
 sinned." 
 
 " You all sound very merry," said Roy, opening the eloor 
 before the laugh which greeted this story had died away. 
 
 " Why, how nice and early you are, Roy !" exclaimed 
 Cecil. " Oh ! mother has been telling us no end of stories, 
 you ought to have been here to listen to them. And Roy, 
 we are most likely going to have those little children over 
 the way to live with us till their father is out of primer 
 again." 
 
 Roy seemed grave and preoccupied, but Cecil was too 
 happy tc notice that, and chattered on contentedly. He 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 77 
 
 scarcely heard her, yet a sense of strong contrast made the 
 home likeness of the scene specially emphasized to him. 
 He.looked at his father leaning back in the great arm-chair, 
 with reading-lamp and papers close by him, but with his 
 eyes fixed on Cecil as she sat on the rug at his feet, 
 the fire-light brightening her fair hair ; he looked at his 
 mother on the opposite side of the hearth, in the familiar 
 dress which she almost always wore black silk with soft 
 white lace about the neck and bodice, and a pretty white 
 lace cap. She was busy with her netting, but every now 
 and then glanced up at him. 
 
 " You are tired to-night, Roy," she said, when Cecil's 
 story had come to an end. 
 
 " Just a little," he owned. " Such a curious thing hap- 
 pened to me. It was a good thing you caught sight of me 
 at Hyde Park Corner and stopped to ask about the trial, 
 Cecil, for otherwise it would never have come about. 
 Who do you think I met just as you drove on ? " 
 
 " I can't guess," said Cecil, rising from her place on 
 the hearth rug, as the gong sounded for supper. 
 
 " One of our Norwegian friends," said Roy. " Frith-of 
 Falck." 
 
 " What ! is he actually in England ? " said Cecil, taking 
 up the reading-lamp to carry it into the next room. 
 
 " Yes, poor fellow," said Roy. 
 
 Something in his tone made Cecil's heart beat quickly ; 
 she could not have accounted for the strength of the feel- 
 ing which suddenly overwhelmed her ; she hardly knew 
 what it was she feared so much, or why such a sudden 
 panic had seized upon her, she trembled from head to foot, 
 and was glad as they crossed the hall to hand the lamp to 
 Roy, glancing up at him as she did so apprehensively. 
 
 " Why do you say poor fellow ? " she asked. " Oh, Roy, 
 what is the matter what what has happened to him? " 
 
78 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 "THE house seems quiet without Frithiof?' remarked 
 Herr Falck on the Monday after his son's departure. 
 
 Frithiof at that very moment was walking through the 
 streets of Hull, feeling lonely and desolate enough. They 
 felt desolate without him at Bergen, and began to talk 
 much of his return, and to wonder when the wedding 
 would be, and to settle what presents they would give 
 Blanche. 
 
 The dining-room looked very pleasant on that October 
 morning. Sigrid, though never quite happy when her twin 
 was away, was looking forward eagerly to his return, and 
 was so much cheered by the improvement in her father's 
 health and spirits that she felt more at rest than she had 
 done for some time. Little Swanhild, whose passion for 
 Blanche increased daily, was in the seventh heaven of 
 happiness, and though she had not been told everything, 
 knew quite well that the general expectation was that 
 Frithiof would be betrothed to her ideal. As for Herr 
 Falck he looked eager and hopeful, and it seemed as if 
 some cloud of care had been lifted off him. lie talked 
 more than he had done of late, teased Swanhild merrily 
 about her lessons, and kept both girls laughing and chat- 
 tering at the table till Swanhild had to run off in a hurry, 
 declaring that she should be late for school. 
 
 " You should not tell such funny stories in the morning, 
 little father ! " she said laughingly as she stopped for the 
 custo:n:.ry kiss and " tak for maden " (thanks for the 
 meal) on her way out of the room. 
 
 " Ah, but to laugh is so good for the digestion," said 
 Herr Falck. " You will read English all the better in 
 See if you don't." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 79 
 
 " Are you busy to-day, father ? " asked Sigrid as the door 
 closed behind the little girl. 
 
 " Not at all. I shall take a walk before going to the 
 office. I tell you what, Sigrid, you shall come with me 
 and get a new English story at Beyer's, to cheer you in 
 Frithiof s absence. What was the novel some one told 
 you gave the best description of English home life? " 
 
 " ' Wives and Daughters,' " said Sigrid. 
 
 " Well, let us get it then, and afterward we will take a 
 turn above Walkendorf s Tower, and see if there is any 
 sign of our vessels from Iceland." 
 
 " You heard good news of them last month, did you 
 not? " asked Sigrid. 
 
 " No definite news, but everything was very hopeful. 
 They sent word by the steamer to Granton, and tele- 
 graphed from there to our station in Oifjord." 
 
 " What did they say ? " 
 
 " That as yet there had been no catch of herrings, but 
 that everything was most promising, as plenty of whales 
 were seen every day at the mouth of the fjord. Oh, I am 
 perfectly satisfied. I have had no anxiety about the 
 expedition since then." So father and daughter set out 
 together. It was a clear frosty morning, the wintry <air 
 was invigorating, and Sigrid thought she had never seen 
 her father look so well before ; his step seemed so light, 
 his brow so smooth, his eyes so unclouded. Beyer's shop 
 had fascinations for them both ; she lingered long in the 
 neighbourhood of the Tauchnitz shelves, while Herr Falck 
 discussed the news with some one behind the counter, and 
 admired the pictures temptingly displayed. 
 
 "Look here, Sigrid !" he exclaimed. "Did you ever 
 see a prettier little water-colour than that ? Bergen in 
 winter, from the harbour. What is the price of it ? A 
 .hundred kroner ? I must really have it. It shall be a 
 present to you in memory of our walk." 
 
 Sigrid was delighted with the picture, and Herr Falck 
 
8o A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 himself seemed as pleased with it as a child with a new 
 toy. They walked away together, planning where it 
 should hang at home, and saying how it was just the sort 
 of thing Frithiof would like. 
 
 " It is quite a pity we did not see it when he was away 
 in Germany, he woulcPhave liked to have it when he was 
 suffering from heim wefi" said Sigrid. 
 
 " Well, all that sort of thing is over for him, I hope," 
 said Herr Falck. c * No need that he should be av/ay from 
 Bergen any more, except now and then for a holiday. And 
 if ever you marry a foreigner, Sigrid, you will be able to 
 take Bergen with you as a consolation." 
 
 They made their way up to a little wooded hill above 
 the fortress, which commanded a wide and beautiful view. 
 
 " Ah ! " cried Herr Falck, " Look there, Sigrid ! Look, 
 look ! there is surely a vessel coming." 
 
 She gazed out seaward. 
 
 " You have better eyes than I have, father. Where- 
 abouts ? Oh ! yes, now I see, ever so far away. Do you 
 think it is one of yours ? " 
 
 " I can't tell yet," said Herr Falck ; and glancing at him 
 she saw that he was in an agony of impatience, and that 
 the old troubled look had come back to his face. 
 
 Again the nameless fear which had seized her in the 
 summer took possession of her. She would not bother 
 him with questions, but waited silently beside him, wonder- 
 ing why he was so unusually excited, wishing that she 
 understood business matters, longing for Frithiof, who 
 would perhaps have known all about it and could have 
 reassured her. 
 
 " Yes, yes," cried Herr Falck at length. " I am almost 
 sure it is one of our Oifjord vessels. Yes ! I am certain 
 it is the ' Solid.' Now the great question is this is she 
 loaded or only ballasted ? " 
 
 The fresh strong wind kept blowing Sigrid's fringe about 
 distractingly ; sheltering her eyes with her hand, she 
 looked again eagerly at the approaching: vessel. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN". 81 
 
 " I think she is rather low in the water, father, don't 
 you ? " 
 
 " I hope so I hope so," said Herr Falck, and he took 
 off his spectacles and began to wipe the dim glasses with 
 fingers that trembled visibly. 
 
 The ship was drawing nearer* and nearer, and every 
 moment Sigrid realised more that it was not as she had 
 first hoped. Undoubtedly the vessel was high in the 
 water. She glanced apprehensively at her father. 
 
 " I can't bear this any longer, Sigrid," he exclaimed. 
 "We will go down to Tydskebryggen, and take a boat and 
 row out to her." 
 
 They hurried away, speaking never a word. Sigrid 
 feared that her father would send her home, thinking it 
 would be cold for her on the water, but he allowed her to 
 get into the little boat in silence, perhaps scarcely realising 
 her presence, too much taken up with his great anxiety to 
 think of anything else. As they threaded their way 
 through the busy harbour, she began to feel a little more 
 cheerful. Perhaps, after all, the matter was not so serious. 
 The sun shone brightly on the sparkling water the sailors 
 and labourers on the vessels and the quays shouted and 
 talked at their work ; on a steamer, which they passed, 
 one of the men was cleaning the brass-work and singing 
 blithely the familiar time of " Sonner af Norge." 
 
 " We must hope for the best," said Herr Falck, perhaps 
 also feeling the influence of the cheerful tune. 
 
 Just as they neared the " Solid " the anchor dropped. 
 
 "You had better wait. here," said Herr Falck, "while I 
 go on board. I'll not keep you long, dear." 
 
 Nevertheless, anxious waiting always does seem long, 
 and Sigrid, spite of her sealskin jacket, shivered as she sat 
 in the little boat. It was not so much the cold that made 
 her shiver, as that horrible nameless dread, that anxiety 
 which weighed so much more heavily because she did not 
 fully understand it. 
 
82 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 When her father rejoined her, her worst fears were 
 realised. He neither looked at her nor spoke to her, but, 
 just giving a word of direction to the boatman, sat down 
 in his place with folded arms and bent head. She knew 
 instantly that some terrible disaster must have happened, 
 but she did not dare to ask what it was, she just sat still 
 listening to the monotonous stroke of the oars, and with 
 an uneasy wonder in her mind as to what would happen 
 next. They were nearing the shore, and at last her father 
 spoke. 
 
 " Pay the man, Sigrid," he said, and with an unsteady 
 hand he gave her his purse. He got out of the boat first 
 and she fancied she saw him stagger, but the next moment 
 he recovered himself and turned to help her. They walked 
 away together in the direction of the office. 
 
 "You must not be too anxious, dear child," he said. 
 "I will explain all to you this evening. I have had a 
 heavy loss." 
 
 "But, little father, you look so ill," pleaded Sigrid. 
 " Must you indeed go to the office ? Why not come home 
 and rest?" 
 
 " Rest ! " said Herr Falck, dreamily. " Rest ? No, not 
 just yet not just yet. Send the carriage for me this after- 
 noon, and say nothing about it to any one I'll explain it Jo 
 you later on." 
 
 So the father and daughter parted, and Sigrid went home 
 to bear as best she could her day of suspense. Herr Falck 
 returned later on, looking very ill, and complaining of 
 headache. She persuaded him to lie down in his study, 
 and would not ask him the question which was trembling 
 on her lips. But in the evening he spoke to her. 
 
 " You are a good child, Sigrid, a good child," he said, 
 caressing her hand. " And now you must hear all, though 
 I would give much to keep it from you. The Iceland 
 expedition has failed, dear ; the vessels have come back 
 empty." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 83 
 
 " Does it mean such a very great loss to you, father ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 " I will explain to you," he said, more eagerly ; " I 
 should like you to understand how it has come about. 
 For some time trade has been very bad; and last year and 
 the year before I had some heavy losses connected with 
 the Lofoten part of the business." 
 
 He seemed to take almost a pleasure in giving her all 
 sort of details which she could not half understand ; she 
 heard in a confused way of the three steamers sent to 
 Nordland in the summer with empty barrels and salt for 
 the herrings ; she heard about buying at the Bourse of 
 Bergen large quantities, so that Herr Falck had ten 
 thousand barrels at a time, and had been obliged to real- 
 ise them at ruinous prices. 
 
 " You do not understand all this, my Sigrid," he said, 
 smiling at her puzzled face. " Well, I'll tell you the rest 
 more simply. Things were looking as bad as possible, 
 and when in the summer I heard that Haugesund had 
 caught thousands of barrels of herrings in the fjords of 
 Iceland, I made up my mind to try the same plan, and to 
 stake all on that last throw. I chartered sailing vessels, 
 hired hands, bought nets, and the expedition set off I 
 knew that if it came back with full barrels I should be a 
 rich man, and that if it failed, there was no help for it 
 my business must go to pieces." 
 
 Sigrid gave a little cry. " You will be bankrupt ? " she 
 exclaimed. " Oh, surely not that, father not that ! " 
 
 She remembered all too vividly the bankruptcy of a 
 well-known timber merchant some years before ; she knew 
 that he had raised money by borrowing on the Bank of 
 Norway and on the Savings Bank of Bergen, and she knew 
 that it was the custom of the land that the banks, avoiding 
 risk in that way, demanded two sureties for the loan, and 
 that the failure of a large firm caused distress far and wide 
 to an extent hardly conceivable to foreigners. 
 
84 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 "There is yet one hope," said Herr Falck. "If the 
 rumour I heard in the summer is false, and if I can still 
 keep the connection with Morgans, that guarantees me 
 seven thousand two hundred kroner a year, and in that 
 case I have no doubt we could avoid open bankruptcy." 
 
 " But how ? " said Sigrid. " I don't understand." 
 
 " The Morgans would never keep me as their agent if I 
 were declared a bankrupt ; and, to avoid that, I think my 
 creditors would accept as payment the outcome of all my 
 property, and would give me what we call voluntary agree- 
 ment ; it is a form of winding up a failing concern which is 
 very often employed. They would be the gainers in the 
 long run, because of course they would not allow me to 
 keep my seven thousand two hundred kroner untouched, 
 so in any case, my child, I have brought you to poverty." 
 
 He covered his face with his hands. Sigrid noticed that 
 the veins about his temples stood out like blue cord, so 
 much were they enlarged. 
 
 She put her arm about him, kissing his hair, his hands, 
 his forehead. 
 
 " I do not mind poverty, little father ; I mind only that 
 you are so troubled," she said. " And surely, surely they 
 will not take the agency from you after all these years ! 
 Oh, poverty will be nothing, if only we can keep from dis- 
 grace if only others need not be dragged down too ! " 
 
 They were interrupted by a tap at the door, and Swan- 
 hild stole in, making the pretty little courtesy without 
 which no well-bred Norwegian child enters or leaves a 
 room. 
 
 " Mayn't I come and say good-night to you, little 
 father ? " she asked. " I got on ever so well at school, 
 just as you said, after our merry breakfast." 
 
 The sight of the child's unconscious happiness was more 
 than he could endure ; he closed his eyes that she might 
 not see the scalding tears which filled them. 
 
 " How dreadfully ill father looks," said Swanhild, un- 
 easily. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 85 
 
 " His head is very bad," said Sigrid. " Kiss him, dear, 
 and then run to bed." 
 
 But Herr Falck roused himself. 
 
 " I too will go up," he said. " Bed is the best place, eh, 
 Swanhild ? God bless you, little one ; good-night. What, 
 are you going to be my walking-stick ? " 
 
 And thus, steadying himself by the child, ha went up to 
 his room. 
 
 At breakfast the next morning he was in his place as 
 usual, but he seemed very poorly, and afterward made no 
 suggestion as to going down to the office, but lay on the 
 sofa in his study, drowsily watching the flames in his 
 favourite English fire-place. Sigrid went about the house 
 busy with her usual duties, and for the time so much 
 absorbed that she almost forgot the great trouble hanging 
 over them. About eleven o'clock there was a ring at the 
 door-bell ; the servant brought in a telegram for Herr 
 Falck. A sort of wild hope seized her that it might be 
 from Frithiof. If anything could cheer her father on that 
 day it would be to hear that all was happily settled, and, 
 taking it from the maid, she bore it herself into her father's 
 room. He rose from the sofa as she entered. 
 
 " I am better, Sigrid," he said. " I think I could go to 
 the office. Ah ! a telegram for me ? " 
 
 " It has come this minute," she said, watching him as he 
 sat down before his desk, adjusted his spectacles, and tore 
 open the envelope. If only Frithiof could send news that 
 would cheer him ! If only some little ray of brightness 
 would come to lighten that dark day ! She had so per- 
 suaded herself that the message must be from Frithiof that 
 the thought of the business anxieties had become for the 
 time quite subservient. The telegram was a long one. 
 
 " How extravagant that boy is ! " she thought to herself. 
 " Why, it would have been enough if he had just put 
 1 All right.' " 
 
 Then a sudden cry broke from her, for her father had 
 
86 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 bowed his head on his desk like a man who is over- 
 whelmed. 
 
 " Father, father ! " she cried, " oh ! what is the matter ? " 
 
 For a minute or two he neither spoke nor moved. At 
 last, with an effort, he raised himself. He looked up at 
 her with a face of fixed despair, with eyes whose anguish 
 wrung her heart. 
 
 " Sigrid," he said, in a voice unlike his own, lt they have 
 taken the agency from me. I am bankrupt ! " 
 
 She put her hand in his, too much stunned to speak. 
 
 " Poor children ! " he moaned. " Ah ! my God ! my 
 God! Why ?" 
 
 The sentence was never ended. He fell heavily forward ; 
 whether he was dead or only fainting she could not tell. 
 
 She rushed to the door calling for help, and the servants 
 came hurrying to the study. They helped to move their 
 master to the sofa, and Sigrid found a sort of comfort in 
 the assurances of her old nurse that it was nothing but a 
 paralytic seizure, that he would soon revive. The good 
 old soul knew nothing, nor was she so hopeful as she 
 seemed, but her words helped Sigrid to keep up ; she 
 believed them in the unreasoning sort of way in which 
 those in trouble always do catch at the slightest hope held 
 out to them. 
 
 " I will send Olga for the doctor," she said, breathlessly. 
 
 " Ay, and for your uncle, too," said the nurse. " He's 
 your own mother's brother, and ought to be here." 
 
 " Perhaps," said Sigrid, hesitatingly. " Yes, Olga, go 
 to Herr Gronvold's house and just tell them of my father's 
 illness. But first for the doctor as quick as you can." 
 
 There followed a miserable time of waiting and suspense. 
 Herr Falck was still perfectly unconscious ; there were 
 signs of shock about his face, which was pale and rigid, 
 the eyelids closed, the head turned to one side. Sigrid 
 took his cold hand in hers, and sat with her fingers on the 
 pulse j she could just feel it, but it was very feeble and 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 87 
 
 very rapid. Thus they waited till the doctor came. He 
 was an old friend, and Sigrid felt almost at rest when she 
 had told him all he wanted to know as to the beginning of 
 the attack and the cause. 
 
 ''You had better send for your brother at once," he 
 said. " I suppose he will be at the office ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! " she said, trembling. " Frithiof is in England. 
 But we will telegraph to him to come home." 
 
 " My poor child," said the old doctor kindly, tl if he is 
 in England it would be of no possible use ; he would not 
 be in time." 
 
 She covered her face with her hands, for the first time 
 utterly breaking down. 
 
 " Oh ! is there no hope ? " she sobbed. " No hope at 
 all ? " 
 
 " Remember how much he is spared," said the doctor, 
 gently. " He will not suffer. He will not suffer at all 
 any more." 
 
 And so it proved ; for while many went and came, and 
 while the bad news of the bankruptcy caused Herr Gronvold 
 to pace the room like one distracted, and while Sigrid and 
 Swanhild kept their sad watch, Herr Falck lay in painless 
 quiet his face so calm that, had it not been for an occa- 
 sional tremor passing through the paralyzed limbs, they 
 would almost have thought he was already dead. 
 
 The hours passed on. At length little Swanhild, who 
 had crouched down on the floor with her head in Sigrid's 
 lap, became conscious of a sort of stir in the room. She 
 tooked up and saw that the doctor was bending over her 
 father. 
 
 " It is over," he said in a hushed voice as he stood up 
 4nd glanced toward the two girls. 
 
 And Swanhild, who had nci'er seen any one die, but had 
 read in books of death struggles and death agonies, was 
 filled with a great wonder. 
 
 " It was so quiet," she said afterward to her sister, " I 
 
88 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 never knew people died like that : I don't think I shall 
 ever feel afraid about dying again. But oh, Sigrid ! " and 
 the child broke into a passion of tears, " we have got to 
 go on living all alone all alone ! " 
 
 Sigrid's breast heaved. Alas ! the poor child little knew 
 all the troubles that were before them ; as far as possible 
 she must try to shield her from the knowledge. 
 
 " We three must love each other very much, darling," 
 she said, folding her arms about Swanhild. " We must 
 try -and be everything to each other." 
 
 The words made her think of Frithiof, and with a sick 
 longing for his presence she went downstairs again to 
 speak to her uncle, and to arrange as to how the news 
 should be sent to England. Herr Gronvold had never quite 
 appreciated his brother-in-law, and this had always made 
 a barrier between him and his nephew and nieces. He 
 was the only relation, however, to whom Sigrid could turn, 
 and she knew that he was her father's executor and must 
 be consulted about all the arrangements. Had not she 
 and Frithiof celebrated their twenty-first birthday just a 
 week ago, Herr Gronvold would have been their guardian, 
 and naturally he would still expect to have the chief voice 
 in the family counsels. 
 
 She found him in the sitting-room. He was still pale 
 and agitated. She knew only too well that although he 
 would not say a word against her dead father, yet in his 
 heart he would always blame him, and that the family dis- 
 grace would be more keenly felt by him than by any one. 
 The sight of him entirely checked her tears ; she sat down 
 and began to talk to him quite calmly. All her feeling of 
 youth and helplessness was gone now she felt old, strange- 
 ly old ; her voice sounded like the voice of some one else 
 it seemed to have grown cold and hard. 
 
 " What must we do about telling Frithiof, uncle ? " she 
 said. 
 
 I have though of that," said Herr Gronvold. " It is 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 89 
 
 impossible that he could be back in time for the funeral. 
 This is Tuesday afternoon, and he could not catch this 
 week's steamer which leaves Hull at nine o'clock to-night. 
 The only thing is to telegraph the news to him, poor boy. 
 His best chance now is to stay in England and try to find 
 some opening there, for he has no chance here at all." 
 
 Sigrid caught her breath. 
 
 "You mean that he had better not even come back? " 
 
 " Indeed, I think England is the only hope for him." 
 said Herr Gronvold, perhaps hardly understanding what a 
 terrible blow he was giving to his niece. " He is absolutely 
 penniless, and over here feeling will be so strong against 
 the very name of Falck that he would never work his way 
 up. I will gladly provide for you and Swanhild until he is 
 able to make a home for you ; but he must stay in England, 
 there is no help for that." 
 
 She could not dispute the point any further ; her uncle's 
 words had shown her only too plainly the true meaning of 
 the word " bankrupt." Why, the very chair she was 
 sitting on was no longer her own ! A chill passed over 
 her as she glanced round the familiar room. On the writ- 
 ing-table she noticed her housekeeping books, and realised 
 that there was no longer any money to pay them with ; on 
 the book-shelf stood the clock presented a year or two ago 
 to her father by the clerks in his office that too must be 
 parted with; everything most sacred, most dear to 
 her, everything associated with her happy childhood 
 and youth must be swept away in the vain endeavour 
 to satisfy the just claims of her father's creditors. In a 
 sort of dreadful dream she sat watching her uncle as he 
 wrote the message to Frithiof, hesitating long over the 
 wording of the sad tidings, and ever and anon counting 
 the words carefully with his pen. It would cost a good 
 deal, that telegram to England. Sigrid knew that her 
 uncle would pay for it, and the knowledge kept her lips 
 sealed. It was absurd to long so to send love and 
 
90 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 sympathy at the rate of thirty ore a word ! Why, in the 
 whole world she had not so much as a ten-ore piece ! 
 Her personal possessions might, perhaps, legally belong 
 to her, but she knew that there was something within her 
 which would utterly prevent her being able to consider 
 them her own. Everything must go toward those who 
 would suffer from her father's failure ; and Frithiof would 
 feel just as she did about the matter, of that she was 
 certain. 
 
 " There, poor fellow," said Herr Gronvold. " that will 
 give him just the facts of the case ; and you must write to 
 him, Sigrid, and I, too, will write by the next mail." 
 
 11 1 am afraid he cannot get a letter till Monday," said 
 Sigrid. 
 
 " No, there is no help for that," said Herr Gronvold. 
 " I shall do all that can be done with regard to the busi- 
 ness, that he will know quite well, and his return later on 
 would be a mere waste of time and money. He must 
 seek work in London without delay, and J have told him 
 so. Do you think this is clear ? " 
 
 He handed her the message he had written, and she 
 read it through, though each word was like a stab. 
 
 " Quite clear," she said, returning it to him. 
 
 Her voice was so tired and worn that it attracted his 
 notice for the first time. 
 
 " My dear," he said kindly, " it has been a terrible day 
 for you ; you had better go to bed and rest. Leave every- 
 thing to me. I promise you all shall be attended to." 
 
 11 You are very kind," she said, yet with all the time a 
 terrible craving for something more than this sort of kind- 
 ness, for something which was perhaps beyond Herr 
 Gronvold's power to give. 
 
 " Would you like your aunt or one of your cousins to 
 spend the night here ? " he asked. 
 
 " No," she said ; " I am better alone. They will come, 
 to-morrow. I I will rest now." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 91 
 
 " Very well. Good-bye then, my dear. I will send off 
 the telegram at once." 
 
 She heard the door close behind him with a sense of 
 relief, yet before many minutes had passed, the dreadful 
 quiet of the house seemed almost more than she could 
 endure. 
 
 " Oh, Frithiof! Frithiof! why did you ever go to 
 England ? " she moaned. 
 
 And as she sat crouched together in one of the deep 
 easy-chairs, it seemed to her that the physical faintness, 
 the feeling that everything was sliding away from her, was 
 but the shadow of the bitter reality. She was roused by 
 the opening of the door. Her old nurse stole in. 
 
 " See here, Sigrid," said the old woman. " The pastor 
 has come. You will see him in here ? " 
 
 " I don't think I can," she said, wearily. 
 
 " He is in the dining-room talking to Swanhild," said the 
 nurse : "you had better just see him a minute." 
 
 But still Sigrid did not stir. It was only when little 
 Swanhild stole in, with her wistful, tear-stained face, that 
 she even tried to rouse herself. 
 
 " Sigrid," said the child, " Herr Askevold has been out 
 all day with some one who was dying ; he is very tired and 
 has had no dinner ; he says if he may he will have supper 
 with us." 
 
 Sigrid at once started to her feet ; her mind was for the 
 moment diverted from her own troubles ; it was the thought 
 of the dear old pastor, tired and hungry, yet coming to 
 them, nevertheless, which touched her heart. Other friends 
 might perhaps forsake them in their trouble and disgrace, 
 but not Herr Askevold. Later on, when she thought it 
 over, she knew that it was for the sake of inducing them to 
 eat, and for the sake of helping them through that terrible 
 first meal without their father, that he had come in just 
 then. She only felt the relief of his presence at the time, 
 was only conscious that she was less desolate because the 
 
92 A HARDY NORSEMAN'. 
 
 old white-haired man, who had baptised her as a baby and 
 confirmed her as a girl, was sitting with them at the supper- 
 table. His few words of sympathy as he greeted her had 
 been the first words of comfort which had reached her 
 heart, and now, as he cut the bread and helped the fisK, 
 there was something in the very smallness and fineness of 
 his consideration and care for them which filled her with 
 far more gratitude than Herr Gronvold's offer of a home. 
 They did not talk very much during the meal, but little 
 Swanhild ceased to wonder whether it was wrong to feel so 
 hungry on such a day, and, no longer ashamed of hei 
 appetite, went on naturally and composedly with her sup- 
 per ; while Sigrid, with her strong Norwegian sense of 
 hospitality, ate for her guest's sake, and in thinking of his 
 wants was roused from her state of blank hopelessness. 
 
 Afterward she took him to her father's room, her tears 
 stealing down quietly as she looked once more on the calm 
 peaceful face that would never again bear the look of 
 strained anxiety which had of late grown so familiar to 
 her. 
 
 And then Herr Askevold knelt by the bedside and 
 prayed. She could never quite remember in after days 
 what it was that he said, perhaps she never very clearly 
 took in the actual words ; but something, either in his tone 
 or manner, brought to her the sense of a presence alto- 
 gether above all the changes that had been or ever could 
 be. This new consciousness seemed to fill her with 
 strength, and a great tenderness for Swanhild came to her 
 heart ; she wondered how it was she could ever have 
 fancied that all had been taken from her. 
 
 As they rose from their knees and the old pastor took 
 her hand in his to wish her good-bye, he glanced a little 
 anxiously into her eyes. But something he saw there com- 
 forted him. 
 
 " God bless you, my child," he said. 
 
 And again as they opened the front door to him and he 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 93 
 
 stepped out into the dark wintry night, he looked back, 
 and said : 
 
 " God comfort you." 
 
 Sigrid stood on the threshold, behind her the lighted 
 hall, before her the starless gloom of the outer world 
 her arm was round little Swanhild, and, as she bade him 
 good-night, she smiled one of those brave patient smiles 
 that are sadder than tears. 
 
 " The light behind her, and the dark before," said the 
 old pastor to himself as he walked home wearily enough. 
 
 " It is like her life, poor child. And yet I am somehow 
 not much afraid for her. It is for Frithiof I am afraid." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 WHEN Frithiof found that instead of addressing a stranger 
 at Hide Park Corner, he had actually spoken to Roy 
 Boniface, his first feeling had been of mere blank astonish- 
 ment. Then he vehemently wished himself alone once 
 more, and cursed the fate which had first brought him into 
 contact with the little child by the Serpentine, and whrh 
 had now actually thrown him into the arms of a being who 
 would talk and expect to be talked to. Yet this feeling 
 also passed ; for as he looked down the unfamiliar roads, 
 and felt once more the desolateness of a foreigner in a 
 strange country, he was obliged to own that it was pleasant 
 to him to hear Roy's well-known voice, and to feel that 
 there was in London a being who took some sort of interest 
 in his affairs. 
 
 " I wish I had seen you a minute or two sooner ; my 
 mother and my sister were in that carriage," said Roy, 
 <l and they would have liked to meet you. You must come 
 and see us some day, or are you quite too busy to spare 
 time for such an out-of-the-way place as Brixton ? " 
 
94 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " Thank you. My plans are very uncertain," said Fri- 
 thiof. " I shall probably only be over here for a few days." 
 "Have you come across the Morgans?" asked Roy, 
 " or any of our other companions at Balholm? " 
 
 In his heart he felt sure that the young Norwegian's 
 visit was connected with Blanche Morgan, for their mutual 
 liking had been common property at Balholm, and even 
 the semi-engagement was shrewdly guessed at by many of 
 the other tourists. 
 
 Frithiof knew this, ana the question was like a sword- 
 thrust to him. Had it not been so nearly dark Roy could 
 hardly have failed to notice his change of colour and expres- 
 sion. But he had great self-control, and his voice was 
 quite steady, though a little cold and monotonous in tone, 
 as he replied : 
 
 " I have just been to call on the Morgans, and have only 
 just learned that their business relations with our firm are 
 at an end. The connection is of so many years' standing 
 that I am afraid it will be a great blow to my father." 
 
 Roy began to see daylight, and perceived, what had first 
 escaped his notice, that some great change had passed 
 ojer his companion since they parted on the Sogne Fjord ; 
 very possibly the business relations might affect his hopes, 
 and make ,the engagement no longer possible. 
 
 " That was bad news to greet you," he said with an 
 uneasy consciousness that it was very difficult to know 
 what to say. " Herr Falck would feel a change of that 
 sort keenly, I should think. What induced them to make 
 it?" 
 
 " Self-interest," said Frithiof, still in the same tone. 
 " No doubt they came to spy out the land in the summer. 
 As the head of the firm remarked to me just now, it is 
 impossible to sentimentalise over old connections busi- 
 ness is business, and of course they are bound to look out 
 for themselves what happens to us is, naturally, no affair 
 of theirs." 
 
 Roy would not have thought much of the sarcasm of 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 95 
 
 this speech if it had been spoken by any one else, but from 
 the lips of such a fellow as Frithiof Falck, it startled him. 
 
 They were walking along Piccadilly, each of them turn- 
 ing over in his mind how he could best get away from the 
 other, yet with an uneasy feeling that they were in some 
 way linked together by that summer holiday, and that if 
 they parted now they would speedily regret it. Roy, with 
 the increasing consciousness of his companion's trouble, 
 only grew more perplexed and ill at ease. He tried to 
 picture to himself the workings of the Norwegian's mind, 
 and as they walked on in silence some faint idea of the 
 effect of the surroundings upon the new-comer began to 
 dawn upon him. What a contrast was all this to quiet 
 Norway ! The brightly lighted shops, the busy streets, 
 the hurry and bustle, the ever-changing crowd of strange 
 faces. 
 
 " Do you know many people in London ? " he asked, 
 willing to shift his responsibility if possible. 
 
 " No," said Frithiof, " I do not know a soul." 
 
 He relapsed into silence. Roy's thoughts went back to 
 his first day at Bergen ; he seemed to live it all through 
 once more ; he remembered how Frithiof Falck had got 
 the Linnaea for them, how he had taken them for shelter 
 to his father's house; the simplicity and the happiness of 
 the scene came back to him vividly, and he glanced at his 
 companion as though to verify his past impressions. The 
 light from a street lamp fell on Frithiof at that moment, 
 and Roy started ; the Norwegian had perhaps forgotten 
 that he was not alone, at any rate he wore an expression 
 which had not hitherto been visible. There was some- 
 thing about his pale, set face which alarmed Roy, and 
 scattered to the winds all his selfishness and awkward 
 shyness. 
 
 " Then you will of course dine with me," he said, " since 
 you have no other engagement." 
 
 And Frithiof, still wishing to be alone, and yet still 
 dreading it. thanked him and acceDted the invitation. 
 
96 A HARDY NORSEMAN'. 
 
 The ice once broken, they got on rather better, and as 
 they dined together Roy carefully abstained from talking 
 of the days at Balholm, but asked after Sigrid and Swan- 
 hild and Herr Falck, talked of the winter in Norway, of 
 skating, of Norwegian politics, of everything he could 
 think of which could divert his friend's mind from the 
 Morgans. * 
 
 " JVliat next," he said, as they found themselves once 
 more in the street. " Since you go back soon we ought 
 to make the most of the time. Shall we come to the 
 Savoy ? You must certainly hear a Gilbert and Sullivan 
 opera before you leave.' 
 
 " I am not in the mood for it to-night," said Frithiof. 
 "And it has just struck me that possibly my father may 
 telegraph instructions to me he would have got Mor- 
 gan's telegram this morning. I will go back to the 
 Arundel and see." 
 
 This idea seemed to rouse him. He became much 
 more like himself, and as they walked down the Strand 
 the conversation dragged much less. For the first time 
 he spoke of the work that awaited him on his return to 
 Bergen, and Roy began to think that his scheme for divert- 
 ing him from his troubles had been on the whole a 
 success. 
 
 " We must arrange what day you will come down to us 
 at Brixton," he said, as they turned, down Arundel Street. 
 " Would to-morrow suit you ? " 
 
 " As far as I know, it would, " said Frithiof; " but if you 
 will just come into the hotel with me, we will find out if 
 there is any message from my father. If there is nothing, 
 why, I am perfectly free. It is possible, though, that he 
 will have business for me to see to." 
 
 Accordingly they went into the hotel together, and 
 Frithiof accosted a waiter in the entrance hall. 
 
 " Anything come for me since I went out ? " he asked. 
 
 "Yes, sir, I believe there is, sir, Herr Falck, is it 
 not?" 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 97 
 
 He brought forward a telegram and handed it to Frithiof, 
 who hurriedly tore open the orange envelope and began 
 eagerly to read. As he read, every shade of colour left his 
 face ; the telegram was in Norwegian, and its terse, matter- 
 of-fact statement overwhelmed him. Like one in some 
 dreadful dream he read the words : 
 
 " Father bankrupt, owing to failure Iceland expedition, 
 also loss Morgan's agency." 
 
 There was more beyond, but this so staggered him that 
 he looked up from the fatal pink paper with a sort of wild 
 hope that his surroundings would reassure him, that he 
 should find it all a mistake. He met the curious eyes of 
 the waiter, he saw two girls in evening-dress crossing the 
 vestibule. 
 
 " We ought to be at the Lyceum by this time ! " he 
 heard one of them say to the other. " How annoying of 
 father to be so late ! " 
 
 The girl addressed had a sweet, sunshiny face. 
 
 " Oh, he will soon be here," he said, smiling, but as her 
 eyes happened to fall on Frithiof she grew suddenly grave 
 and compassionate ; she seemed to glance from his face to 
 the telegram in his hand, and her look brought him a hor- 
 rible perception that after all this was real waking exist- 
 ence. It was a real telegram he held, it was all true, 
 hideously true. His father was bankrupt. 
 
 Shame, misery, bitter indignation with the Morgans, a 
 sickening perception that if Blanche had been true to him 
 the worst might have been averted, all this seethed in his 
 mind. With a desperate effort he steadied his hand, and 
 again bent his eyes on the pink paper and the large round- 
 hand scrawl. Oh, yes, there was no mistake, he read the 
 fatal words again : 
 
 " Father bankrupt, owing to failure Iceland expedition, 
 also loss Morgan's agency," 
 
98 A HARD Y NORSEMAN. 
 
 By this time he had partly recovered, was sufficiently 
 himself again to feel some sort of anxiety to reac. the rest 
 of the message. Possibly there was something he might 
 do to help his father. He read on and took in the next 
 sentence almost at a glance : 
 
 "Shock caused cerebral hemorrhage. He died this 
 afternoon." 
 
 Frithiof felt a choking sensation in his throat ; if he 
 could not get out into the open air he felt that he should 
 die, and by an instinct he turned toward the door, made a 
 step or two forward, then staggered and caught at Roy 
 Boniface to save himself from falling. 
 
 Roy held him up and looked at him anxiously. 
 
 " You have had bad news? " he asked. 
 
 Frithiof tried to spea-k, but no words would come ; he 
 gasped for breath, felt his limbs failing, saw a wavy, con- 
 fused picture of the vestibule, the waiter, the two girls, an 
 elderly gentleman joining them, then felt himself guided 
 down on to the floor, never quite losing consciousness, yet 
 helpless either to speak or move and with a most confused 
 sense of what had passed. 
 
 " It is in Norwegian," he heard Roy say. " Bad news 
 from his home, I am afraid." 
 
 " Poor fellow ! " said another voice. " Open the door 
 some one. It's air he wants." 
 
 " I saw there was something wrong, father," this was in 
 a girl's voice. " He looked quite dazed with trouble as 
 he read." 
 
 " You'll be late for the Lyceum," thought Frithiof, and 
 making an effort to get up he sunk for a moment into 
 deeper depths of faintness ; the voices died away into 
 indistinctness, then came a consciousness of hands at his 
 shoulders and his feet ; he was lifted up and carried away 
 somewhere. 
 
 Struggling back to life again in a few moments, he found 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN: 99 
 
 that he was lying on a bed, the window was wide open, 
 and a single candle flickered wildly in the draught, Roy 
 Boniface was standing by him holding a glass of water to 
 his lips. With an effort he drank. 
 
 " You are better, sir ? " asked the waiter. " Anything I 
 can do for you, sir? Any answer to the telegram ? " 
 
 " The telegram ! What do you mean ? " exclaimed Fri- 
 thiof. Then as full recollection came back to him, he 
 turned his face from the light with a groan. 
 
 " The gentleman had, perhaps, better see a doctor," sug- 
 gested the waiter to Roy. But Frithiof turned upon him 
 sharply. 
 
 " I am better. You can go away. All I want is to be 
 alone." 
 
 The man retired, but Roy still lingered. He could not 
 make up his mind to leave any one in such a plight, so he 
 crossed the room and stood by the open window, looking 
 out gravely at the dark river with its double row of lights 
 and their long shining reflections. Presently a sound in 
 the room made him turn. Frithiof had dragged himself 
 up to his feet, with an impatient gesture he blew out the 
 flickering candle,- then walked with unsteady steps to the 
 window and dropped into a chair. 
 
 " So you are here still ? " he said, with something of relief 
 in his tone. 
 
 " I couldn't bear to leave till you were all right again," 
 said Roy. " Won't you tell me what is the matter, Falck ? " 
 
 " My father is dead," said Frithiof, in an unnaturally 
 calm voice. 
 
 " Dead ! " exclaimed Roy, and his tone had in it much 
 more of awe and regret. He could hardly believe that 
 the genial, kindly Norwegian, who had climbed Munkeggen 
 with them only a few weeks before, was actually no longer 
 in the world. 
 
 " He is dead," repeated Frithiof, quietly. 
 
 " But how was it? " asked Roy. " It must have been 
 
too A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 so sudden. You left him well only three days ago. How 
 was it ? " 
 
 " His Iceland expedition had failed," said Frithiof, " that 
 meant a fatal blow to his business j then, this morning 
 there came to him Morgan's telegram about the agency. 
 It was that that killed him." 
 
 " Good God ! " exclaimed Roy, with indignation in his 
 voice. 
 
 " Leave out the adjective," said Frithiof, bitterly. " If 
 there is a God at all He is hard and merciless. Business 
 is business, you see one can't sentimentalise over old con- 
 nections. God allows men like Morgan to succeed, they 
 always do succeed ; and He lets men like my father be 
 dragged down into shame and dishonour and ruin." 
 
 Roy was silent, he had no glib, conventional sentences 
 ready to hand. In his own mind he frankly admitted that 
 the problem was beyond him. He knew quite well that 
 far too often in business-life it was the pushing, unscru- 
 pulous, selfish man who made his fortune, and the man of 
 Herr Falck's type, sensitive, conscientious, altogether 
 honourable, who had to content himself with small means, 
 or who, goaded at last to rashness, staked all on a despe- 
 rate last throw and failed. It was a problem that perplexed 
 him every day of his life, the old, old problem which Job 
 dashed his heart against, and for which only Job's answer 
 will suffice. Vaguely he felt that there must be some 
 other standard of success than that of the world ; he 
 believed that it was but the first act of the drama which 
 we could at present see ; but he honestly owned that the 
 first act was often perplexing enough. 
 
 Nevertheless, it was his very silence which attracted 
 Frithiof; had he spoken, had he argued, had he put forth 
 the usual platitudes, the two would have been forever 
 separated. But he just leaned against the window-frame, 
 looking out at the dark river, musing over the story he had 
 just heard, and wondering wha. ;he meaning of it could be. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 101 
 
 The " Why ? " which had been the last broken ejaculation 
 of the dead man echoed in the hearts of these two who 
 had been brought together so strangely. Into Roy's mind 
 there came the line, " 'Tis held that sorrow makes us wise." 
 But he had a strong feeling that in Frithiof's case sorrow 
 would harden and embitter; indeed, it seemed to him 
 already that his companion's whole nature was changed. 
 It was almost difficult to believe that he was the same high- 
 spirited boy who had been the life of the party at Balholm, 
 who had done the honours of the villa in Kalvedalen so 
 pleasantly. And then as he contrasted that bright, homely 
 room at Bergen with this dark, forlorn hotel room in Lon- 
 don, a feeling that he must get his companion away into 
 some less dreary atmosphere took possession of him. 
 
 " Don't stay all alone in this place," he said, abruptly. 
 " Come home with me to-night." 
 
 " You are very good," said Frithiof, " but I don't think 
 I can do that. I am better alone, and indeed must make 
 up my mind to-night as to the future." 
 
 " You will go back to Norway, I suppose ? " asked Roy. 
 
 11 Yes, I suppose so ; as soon as possible. To-morrow 
 I must see if there is any possibility of getting back in fair 
 time. Unluckily, it is too late for the Wilson Line steamer, 
 which must be starting at this minute from Hull." 
 
 " I will come in to-morrow, then, and see what you have 
 decided on," said Roy. " Is there nothing I can do for 
 you now ? " 
 
 " Nothing, thank you," said Frithiof. And Roy, feel- 
 ing that he could be of no more use, and that his presence 
 was perhaps a strain on his friend, wished him good-night 
 and went out. 
 
 The next day he was detained by business, and could 
 not manage to call at the Arundel till late in the afternoon. 
 Noticing the same waiter in the hall who had been present 
 on the previous evening, he inquired if Frithiof were in. 
 
 " Herr Falck has gone, sir," said the man ; " he went off 
 about an hour ago." 
 
102 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 11 Gone ! " exclaimed Roy, in some surprise. " Did he 
 leave any message ? " 
 
 " No, sir ; none at all. He was looking very ill when 
 he came down this morning, but went out as soon as he 
 had had breakfast, and didn't come back till four o'clock. 
 Then he called for his bill, and ordered his portmanteau to 
 be brought down and put on a hansom, and as he passed 
 out he gave me a trifle, and said he had spoken a bit sharp 
 to me last night, he was afraid, and thanked me for what I 
 had done for him. And so he drove off, sir." 
 
 " You didn't hear where he was going to ? " 
 
 " No, sir ; I can't say as I did. The cab, if I remember 
 right, turned along the Embankment, toward Charing 
 Cross." 
 
 " Thank you," said Roy. " Very possibly he may have 
 gone back to Norway by the Continent." 
 
 And with a feeling of vague disappointment he turned 
 away. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 WHEN Roy Boniface had gone, Frithiof sat for a long time 
 without stirring. He had longed to be alone, and yet the 
 moment he had got his wish the most crushing sense of 
 desolation overwhelmed him. He, too, was keenly con- 
 scious of that change in his own nature which had been 
 quite apparent to Roy. It seemed to him that everything 
 had been taken from him in one blow love, hope, his 
 father, his home, his stainless name, his occupation, his 
 fortune, and even his old self. It was an entirely different 
 character with which he now had to reckon, and an entirely 
 new life which he had to live. Both character a/id surround- 
 ings had been suddenly changed very much for the worse. 
 He had got to put up with them, and somehow to endure 
 life. That was the only thing clear to him. The little 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 103 
 
 child by the Serpentine had given him so much standing 
 ground, but he had not an inch more at present ; all around 
 him was a miserable, cheerless, gray mist. Presently, 
 becoming aware that the cold wind from the river was no 
 longer reviving him but chilling him to the bone, he roused 
 himself to close the window. Mechanically he drew down 
 the blind, struck a light, and noticing that on the disor- 
 dered bed there lay the crumpled pink paper which had 
 brought him the bad news, he picked it up, smoothed il 
 out, and read it once more. 
 
 There was still something which he had not seen in the 
 first horrible shock of realizing his father's death. With 
 darkening brow he read the words which Herr Gronvold 
 had weighed so carefully and counted so often. 
 
 " I will provide for your sisters till you can. Impossible 
 for you to return in time for funeral. My advice is try for 
 work in London. No opening here for you, as feeling will 
 be strong against family." 
 
 It was only then that he actually took in the fact that he 
 was penniless indeed, far worse than penniless weighed 
 down by a load of debts which, if not legally his, were his 
 burden none the less. There were, as he well knew, many 
 who failed with a light heart, who were bankrupt one week 
 and starting afresh with perfect unconcern the next, but 
 he was too much his father's son to take the disaster that 
 way. The disgrace and the perception of being to blame 
 which had killed Herr Falck now fell upon him with crush- 
 ing force ; he paced the room like one distracted, always 
 with the picture before him of what was now going on in 
 Bergen, always with the thought of the suffering and misery 
 which would result from the failure of a firm so old and so 
 much respected as his father's. 
 
 And yet it was out of this very torture of realisation that 
 his comfort at last sprung such comfort at least as he was 
 at present capable of receiving. We must all have some 
 sort of future to look to, some sort of aim before us, or life 
 
104 A HARD Y NORSEMAN. 
 
 would be intolerable. The veriest beggar in the street 
 concentrates his thought on the money to be made, or the 
 shelter to be gained for the coming night. And there came, 
 fortunately, to Frithiof. jilted, ruined, bereaved as he was, 
 one strong desire one firm resolve. He would pay off his 
 father's debts to the last farthing ; he would work, he would 
 slave, he would deny himself all but the bare necessities of 
 life. The name of Falck should yet be redeemed ; and a 
 glow of returning hope rose in his heart as he remembered 
 his father's parting words, " I look to you, Frithiof, to carry 
 out the aims in which I myself have failed, to live the life 
 I could wish to have lived." Yet how different all had 
 been when those words had been spoken ! The recollection 
 of them did him good brought him, as it were, back to 
 life again but at the same time they were the most cruel 
 pain. 
 
 He saw again the harbour at Bergen, the ships, the 
 mountains, the busy quay; he saw his father so vividly 
 that it seemed to him as if he must actually be before him 
 at that very moment, the tone of his voice rang in his ears, 
 the pressure of his hand seemed yet to linger with him. 
 
 What wonder that it should still be so fresh in his 
 memory ? It was only three days ago. Only three days ! 
 Yet the time to look back on now seemed more like three 
 years. With amazement he dwelt on the fact, thinking, as 
 we mostly do in sudden trouble, how little time it takes for 
 things to happen. It is a perception that does not come to 
 us in the full swing of life, when all seems safe and full of 
 bright promise, any more than in yachting it troubles us to 
 reflect that there is only a plank between ourselves and the 
 unfathomed depths of the sea. We expect all to go well, 
 we feel no fear, we enjoy life easily, and when disaster 
 comes, its rude haste astounds us so rruch is changed in 
 one sudden, crushing blow. 
 
 He remembered how he had whistled the " Bridal Song 
 of the Hardanger," as he cheerfully paced the deck, full of 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 105 
 
 thoughts of Blanche and of the bright future that was 
 opening before him. The tune rang in his ears now with a 
 mournful persistence. He buried his face in his hands, 
 letting the flood of grief sweep over him, opposing to it no 
 thought of comfort, no recollection of what was still left to 
 him. If Blanche had been faithful to him all might have 
 been different ; her father would never have taken away the 
 agency if she had told him the truth when she first got 
 home ; the Iceland expedition might have failed, but his 
 father could have got voluntary agreement with his credi- 
 tors, he himself might perhaps have been put at the head 
 of the branch at Stavanger, all would have been well. 
 
 In bitter contrast he called up a picture of the desolate 
 house in Kalvedalen, thought of He,rr Gronvold making 
 the final arrangements, and alternately pitying and blaming 
 his brother-in law ; thought of Sigrid and Swanhild in their 
 sorrow and loneliness ; thought of his father lying cold 
 and still. Choking sobs rose in his throat as more and 
 more clearly he realised that all was indeed over, that he 
 should never see his father again. But his eyes were dry 
 and tearless, the iron had entered into his soul, and all the 
 relief that was then possible for him lay in a prompt 
 endeavour to carry out the resolve which he had just made. 
 
 Perhaps he perceived this, for he raised himself, banished 
 the mind pictures which had absorbed him so long, and 
 began to think what his first practical step must be. He 
 would lose no time, he would begin that very moment. 
 The first thing must of course be retrenchment, he must 
 leave the Arundel on the morrow, and must seek out the 
 cheapest rooms to be had. Lying on the table was that 
 invaluable book, " Dickens' Dictionary of London." He 
 had bought it at Hull on the previous day, and had already 
 got out of it much amusement and much information. 
 Now, in grim earnest, he turned over its well-arranged 
 pages till he came to the heading " Lodgings," running his 
 eye hurriedly over the paragraph, and pausing over the 
 following sentence : " Those who desire still cheaper 
 
106 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 accommodation must go further afield, the lowest priced 
 of all being in the north-east and south-east districts, in 
 either of which a bed and sitting-room may be had at rents 
 varying from ten shillings, and even less, to thirty shil- 
 lings." 
 
 He turned to the maps at the beginning, and decided to 
 try the neighbourhood of Vauxhall and Lambeth. 
 
 Next came the question of work. And here the vast- 
 ness of the field perplexed him, where to turn he had not 
 the slightest idea. Possibly Dickens might suggest some- 
 thing. He turned over the pages, and his eye happened 
 to light on the words, " Americans in distress, Society for 
 the relief of." He scanned the columns closely, there seemed 
 to be help for every one on earth except a Norwegian. 
 There was a home for French strangers ; a Hungarian aid 
 society ; an Italian benevolent ; sixteen charities for Jews ; 
 an association of Poles ; a Hibernian society ; a Nether- 
 lands benevolent ; a Portuguese and Spanish aid ; and a 
 society for distressed Belgians. The only chance for him 
 lay in the " Universal Beneficence Society," a title which 
 called up a bitter smile to his lips, or the " Society of 
 Friends of Foreigners in Distress." 
 
 He made up his mind to leave these as a last resource, 
 and turning to the heading of Sweden and Norway looked 
 out the address of the consulate. He must go there the 
 first thing the next day, and get what advice and help he 
 could. There was also in Fleet Street a Scandinavian 
 club ; he would go there and get a list of the members ; 
 it was possible that he might meet with some familiar 
 name, and at any rate he should hear his own language 
 spoken, which in itself would be a relief. This arranged, 
 he tried to sleep, but with little success ; his brain was 
 too much overwrought with the terrible reversals of fortune 
 he had met with that day, with the sorrows that had come 
 to him, not as 
 
 11 Single spies, 
 T>..* :- u4.fi: | 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 107 
 
 Whenever he did for a few minutes sink into a dose, it 
 was only to be haunted by the most horrible dreams, and 
 when morning came he was ill and feverish, yet as deter- 
 mined as before to go through with the programme he had 
 marked out. 
 
 The Swedish minister received him very kindly, and 
 listened to as much of his story as would bear telling with 
 great patience. " It is a very hard case," he said. " The 
 English firm perhaps*consulted their own pockets in making 
 this new arrangement, but to break off an old connection 
 so suddenly, and as it chanced at such a trying moment, 
 was hard lines. What sort of people are they, these Mor- 
 gans ? You have met them ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Frithiof, colouring. " One of the brothers 
 was in Norway this summer, came to our house, dined 
 with us, professed the greatest friendliness, while all the 
 time he must have known what the firm was meditating." 
 
 " Doubtless came to see how the land lay," said the 
 minister. " And what of the other brother ? " 
 
 " I saw him yesterday," replied Frithiof. " He was 
 very civil; told me the telegram had been sent off that 
 morning about the affair, as it would not bear delay, and 
 spoke very highly of my father. Words cost nothing, you 
 see." 
 
 The consul noted the extreme bitterness of the tone, 
 and looked searchingly in the face of his visitor. " Poor 
 fellow ! " he reflected ; " he starts in life with a grievance, 
 and there is nothing so bad for a man as that. A fine, 
 handsome boy, too. If he stays eating his heart out in 
 London he will go to the dogs in no time." 
 
 " See," he said, " these Morgans, though they may be 
 keen business men, yet they are after all human. When 
 they learn at what an unlucky time their telegram arrived, 
 it is but natural that they should regret it. Their impulse 
 will be to help you. I should advise you to go to them at 
 once and talk the affair over with them. If they have any 
 
,08 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 proper feeling they will offer you some sort of employment 
 in this new Stavanger branch, or they might, perhaps, have 
 some opening for you in their London house." 
 
 " I cannot go to them," said Frithiof in a choked voice. 
 " I would rather die first." 
 
 " I can understand," said the consul, " that you feel 
 very bitter, and that you resent the way in which they 
 have behaved. But still I think you should try to get over 
 that. After all, they knew nothing of your father's affairs ; 
 they did not intentionally kill him. That the two disas- 
 ters followed so closely on each other was but an accident." 
 
 " Still I could never accept anything from them ; it is 
 out of the question," said Frithiof. 
 
 " Excuse me if I speak plainly," said the consul. " You 
 are very young, and you know but little of the world. If 
 you allow yourself to be governed by pride of this sort 
 you cannot hope to get on. Now turn it over in your 
 mind, and if you do not feel that you can see these people, 
 at any rate write to them." 
 
 " I cannot explain it all to you, sir," said Frithiof. 
 " But there are private reasons which make that altogether 
 impossible." 
 
 The blood had mounted to his forehead, his lips had 
 closed in a straight line; perhaps it was because they 
 quivered that he compressed them so. 
 
 " A woman in the question," reflected the consul. " That 
 complicates matters. All the more reason that he should 
 leave London." Then, aloud : " If you feel unable to 
 apply to them, I should recommend you strongly to try 
 America. Every one flocks to London for work, but as a 
 matter of fact London streets just now are not paved with 
 gold ; everything is at a standstill ; go where you will you 
 will hear that trade is bad, that employment is scarce, and 
 that living is dear." 
 
 " If I could hear of any opening in America, I would go 
 at once," said Frithiof. " But at Bergen we have heard 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 109 
 
 of late that it is no such easy thing even over there to 
 meet with work. I will not pay the expenses of the voy- 
 age merely to be in my present state, and hundreds of 
 miles further from home." 
 
 " What can you do ? " asked the consul. " Is your 
 English pretty good ? " 
 
 " I can write and speak it easily. And of course Ger- 
 man too. I understand bookkeeping." 
 
 11 Any taste for teaching ? " asked the consul. 
 
 11 None," said Frithiof, decidedly. 
 
 " Then the only thing that seems open to you is the 
 work of a secretary, or a clerkship, or perhaps you could 
 manage translating, but that is not easy work to get. 
 Everything now is overcrowded, so dreadfully over- 
 crowded. However, of course, I shall bear you in mind, 
 and you yourself will leave no stone unturned. Stay, I 
 might give you a letter of introduction to Herr Sivertsen ; 
 he might possibly find you temporary work. He is the 
 author of that well-known book on Norway you know. 
 Do you know your way about yet ? " 
 
 " Pretty well," said Frithiof. 
 
 " Then there is his address Museum Street. You 
 had better take an omnibus at the Bank. Any of the Ox- 
 ford Street ones will put you down at the corner, by 
 Mudie's. Let me know how you get on ; I shall be inter- 
 ested to hear." 
 
 Then, with a kindly shake of the hand, Frithiof found 
 himself dismissed ; and somewhat cheered by the inter- 
 view, he made his way to the address which had been 
 given him. 
 
 Herr Sivertsen's rooms were of the gloomiest ; they 
 reeked of tobacco, they were ill-lighted, and it seemed to 
 Frithiof that the window could not have been opened for 
 a week. An oblique view of Mudie's library was the only 
 object of interest to be seen without, though by craning 
 one's neck, one could get just a glimpse of the traffic in 
 
I io A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 Oxford Street. He waited for some minutes, wondering 
 to himself how a successful author could tolerate such a 
 den, and trying to imagine from the room what sort of be- 
 ing was the inhabiter thereof. At length the door opened, 
 and a grey-haired man of five and fifty, with a huge fore- 
 head and somewhat stern, square-jawed face, entered. 
 
 " I have read the consul's letter," he said, greeting 
 Frithiof, and motioning him to a chair. " You want what 
 is . very hard to get. Are you aware that thousands of 
 men are seeking employment and are unable to meet with 
 it?" 
 
 " I know it is hard," said Frithiof. " Still I have more 
 chance here than in Norway, and anyhow I mean to get 
 it." The emphatic way in which he uttered these last 
 words made the author look at him more attentively. 
 
 " I am tired to death of young men coming to me and 
 wanting help," he remarked frankly. " You are an. alto- 
 gether degenerate race, you young men of this generation ; 
 in my opinion you don't know what work means. It's 
 money that you want, not work." 
 
 "Yes," said Frithiof, drily, " you are perfectly right. It 
 is money that I want." 
 
 Now Herr Sivertsen had never before met with this 
 honest avowal. In reply to the speech which he had 
 made to many other applicants he had always received 
 an eager protestation that the speaker was devoted to 
 work, that he was deeply interested in languages, that 
 Herr Sivertsen's greatest hobbies were his hobbies too. 
 He looked this bold avowal in his secret heart, though 
 he had no intention of letting this be seen. " Just what 
 I said ! " he exclaimed. " A pleasure-seeking, money- 
 grubbing generation. What is the result ? I give work to 
 be done, and as long as you can get gold you don't care how 
 the thing is scamped. Look here ! " He took up a manu- 
 script from the table. " I have paid the fellow who 
 did this. He is not only behind time, but when at last 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. ill 
 
 the work is sent in it's a miserable performance, bungled, 
 patched, scamped, even the handwriting a disgrace to 
 civilisation. It's because the man takes no pride in the 
 work itself, because he has not a spark of interest in his 
 subject. It just means to him o many shillings, that is 
 all." 
 
 " I can at least write a clear hand," said Frithiof. 
 
 " That may be ; but will you put any heart into your 
 work ? Do you care for culture ? for literature ? Do you 
 interest yourself in progress ? do you desire to help on 
 your generation?" 
 
 " As far as I am concerned," said Frithiof, bitterly, 
 " the generation will have to take care of itself. As for 
 literature, I know little of it and care less ; all I want is 
 to make money." 
 
 " Did I not tell you so ? " roared Herr Sivertsen. " It 
 is the accursed gold which you are all seeking after. You 
 care only for money to spend on your own selfish indul- 
 gencies. You are all alike ! All ! A worthless genera- 
 tion ! " 
 
 Frithiof rose. 
 
 " However worthless, we unluckily have to live," he said, 
 coldly. "And as I can't pretend to be interested in 
 ' culture/ I must waste no more time in discussion." 
 
 He bowed and made for the door. 
 
 " Stay," said Herr Sivertsen ; " it will do no harm if you 
 leave me your address." 
 
 " Thank you, but at present I have none to give," said 
 Frithiof. " Good morning." 
 
 He felt very angry and very sore-hearted as he made 
 his way down Museum Street. To have met with such a 
 rebuff from a fellow-countryman seemed to him hard, 
 specially in this time of his trouble. He had not enough 
 insight into character to understand the eccentric old 
 author, and he forgot that Herr Sivertsen knew nothing 
 of his circumstances. He was too abrupt, too independ- 
 
112 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 ent, perhaps also too refined, to push his way as an un- 
 known foreigner in a huge metropolis. He was utterly 
 unable to draw a picturesque description of the plight he 
 was in, he could only rely on a sort of dogged persever- 
 ance, a fixed resolve that he must and would find work ; 
 and in spite of constant failures this never left him. 
 
 He tramped down to Vauxhall and began to search for 
 lodgings, looked at some half dozen sets, and finally 
 lighted on a clean little house in a new-looking street a 
 few hundred yards from Vauxhall Station. There was a 
 card up in the window advertising rooms to let. He rang 
 the bell and was a little surprised to find the door opened 
 to him by a middle-aged woman who was unmistakably 
 a lady, though her deeply-lined face told of privation and 
 care, possibly also of ill-temper. He asked the price of 
 the rooms. 
 
 " A sitting-room and bedroom at fifteen shillings a 
 week," was the reply. 
 
 " It is too much, and besides I only need one room," he 
 said. 
 
 lt I am afraid we cannot divide them." 
 
 He looked disappointed. An idea seemed to strike the 
 landlady. 
 
 " There is a little room at the top you might have," she 
 said ; ft but it would not be very comfortable. It would 
 be only five shillings a week, including attendance." 
 
 " Allow me to see it," said Frithiof. 
 
 He felt so tired and ill that if she had shown him a pig- 
 sty he would probably have taken it merely for the sake of 
 settling matters. As it was, the room, though bare and 
 comfortless, was spotlessly clean, and, spite of her severe 
 face, he rather took to his landlady. 
 
 " My things are at the Arundel Hotel," he explained. 
 " I should want to come in at once. Does that suit 
 you ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," she said, scanning him closely. " Can you 
 give us any references?" 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN'. 11$ 
 
 "You can, if you wish, refer to the Swedish consul at 
 24 Great Winchester Street." 
 
 " Oh, you are a Swede," she said. 
 
 " No ; I am a Norwegian, and have only been in London 
 since yesterday." 
 
 The landlady seemed satisfied, and having paid his five 
 shillings in advance, Frithiof went off to secure his port- 
 manteau, and by five o'clock was installed in his new 
 home. 
 
 It was well that he had lost no time in leaving his hotel, 
 for during the next two days he was unable to quit his bed, 
 and could only console himself with the reflection that at 
 any rate he had a cheap roof over his head, and that his 
 rent would not ruin him. 
 
 Perhaps the cold night air from the river had given him 
 a chill on the previous night, or perhaps the strain of the 
 excitement and suffering had been too much for him. At 
 any rate he lay in feverish wretchedness, tossing through 
 the long days and weary nights, a misery to himself and an 
 anxiety to the people of the house. 
 
 He discovered that his first impression had been correct. 
 Miss Tumour, the landlady, was well born ; she and her 
 two sisters all of them now middle-aged women were 
 the daughters of a country gentleman, who had either 
 wasted his substance in speculation or on the turf. He 
 was long since dead, and had left behind him the fruits of 
 his selfishness, three helpless women, with no particular 
 aptitudes and brought up to no particular profession. 
 They had sunk down and down in the social scale, till it 
 seemed that there was nothing left them but a certain 
 refinement of taste, which only enabled them to suffer 
 more keenly, and the family pedigree, of which they were 
 proud, clinging very much to the peculiar spelling of their 
 name, and struggling on in their little London house, quar- 
 reling much among themselves, and yet firmly determined 
 that nothing on earth should part them. Frithiof dubbed 
 
1 14 A HARD Y NORSEMAN. 
 
 them the three Fates. He wondered sometimes whether, 
 after long years of poverty, he and Sigrid and Swanhild 
 should come to the same miserable condition, the same 
 hopeless, cold, hard spirit, the same pinched, worn faces, 
 the same dreary, monotonous lives. 
 
 The three Fates did not take much notice of their lodger. 
 Miss Tumour often wished she had had the sense to see 
 than he was ill before admitting him. Miss Caroline, the 
 youngest, flatly declined waiting on him, as it was quite 
 against her feelings of propriety. Miss Charlotte, the 
 middle one of the three, who had more heart than the rest, 
 tried to persuade him to see a doctor. 
 
 " No," he replied, " I shall be all right in a day or two. 
 It is nothing but a feverish attack. I can't afford doctor's 
 bills." 
 
 She looked at him a little compassionately, his poverty 
 touched a chord in her own life. 
 
 " Perhaps the illness has come in order that you may 
 have time to think," she said, timidly. 
 
 She was a very small little woman, like a white mouse, 
 but Frithiof had speedily found that she was the only one 
 of the three from whom he could expect any help. She 
 was the snubbed one of the family, partly because she 
 was timid and gentle, partly because she had lately adopted 
 certain religious views upon which the other two looked 
 down with the most supreme contempt. 
 
 Frithiof was in no mood to respond to her well-meant 
 efforts to convert him, and used to listen to her discourses 
 about the last day with a stolid indifference which altogether 
 baffled her. It seemed as if nothing could possibly rouse 
 him. 
 
 " Ah," she would say, as she left the room with a sad 
 little shake of the head, " 7 shall be caught up at the 
 second advent. I'm not at all sure that you will be." 
 
 The eldest Miss Tumour did not trouble herself at all 
 about his spiritual state ; she thought only of the risk they 
 were running and the possible loss of money. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 115 
 
 " I hope he is not sickening with any infectious disease," 
 she used to remark a dozen times a day. 
 
 And Miss Charlotte said nothing, but silently thanked 
 Heaven that she had not been the one to accept the new 
 lodger. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THERE is no suffering so severe as that which we perceive 
 to be the outcome of our own mistaken decision. Suffer- 
 ing caused by our own sin is another matter ; we feel in 
 some measure that we deserve it. But to have decided 
 hastily, or too hopefully, or while some false view of the 
 case was presented to us, and then to find that the deci- 
 sion brings grievous pain and sorrow, this is cruelly hard. 
 
 It was this consciousness of his own mistake which 
 preyed upon Frithiof's mind as he tossed through those 
 long solitary hours. Had he only insisted on speaking to 
 Blanche's uncle at Balholm, or on at once writing to her 
 father, all might have been well his father yet alive, the 
 bankruptcy averted, Blanche his own. Over and over in 
 his mind he revolved the things that might have happened 
 but for that fatal hopefulness which had proved his ruin. He 
 could not conceive now why he had not insisted on return- 
 ing to England with Blanche. It seemed to him incredible 
 that he had stayed in Norway merely to celebrate his 
 twenty-first birthday, or that he had been persuaded not 
 to return with the Morgans because Mr. Morgan would be 
 out of town till October. His sanguine nature had be- 
 trayed him, just as his father had been betrayed by his too 
 great hopefulness as to the Iceland expedition. Certainly 
 it is true that sanguine people in particular have to buy 
 their experience by bitter pain and loss. 
 
 By the Saturday morning he was almost himself again 
 
Ii6 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 as far as physical strength was concerned, and his mind 
 was healthy enough to turn resolutely away from these 
 useless broodings over the past, and to ask with a certain 
 amount of interest, "What is to be done next?" All is 
 not lost when we are able to ask ourselves that question ; 
 the mere asking stimulates us to rise and be going, even 
 though the direction we shall take be utterly undecided. 
 
 When Miss Charlotte came to inquire after her patient, 
 she found to her surprise that he was up and dressed. 
 
 "What!" she exclaimed, "You are really well then ?" 
 
 " Quite well, thank you," he replied, in the rather cold 
 tone of voice which had lately become habitual to him. 
 " Have you a newspaper in the house that you would be 
 so good as to lend me ? " 
 
 " Certainly," said Miss Charlotte, her face lighting up 
 as she hastened out of the room, returning in a minute 
 with the special organ of the religious party to which she 
 belonged. " I think this might interest you," she began 
 timidly. 
 
 : < I don't want to be interested," said Frithiof drily. 
 " All I want is to look through the advertisements. A 
 thousand thanks ; but I see this paper is not quite what I 
 need." 
 
 " Are you sure that you know what you really need? " 
 she said earnestly, and with evident reference to a deeper 
 subject. 
 
 Had she not been such a genuine little woman, he 
 would have spoken the dry retort, "Madame, I need 
 money," which trembled on his lips ; but there was no 
 suspicion of cant about her, and he in spite of his bitter- 
 ness still retained much of his Nonvegian courtesy. 
 
 "You see," he said, smiling a little, "if I do not find 
 work I can not pay my rent, so I must lose no time in get- 
 ting some situation." 
 
 The word " rent " recalled her eldest sister to Miss Char- 
 lotte's mind, and she resolved to say no more just at 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 117 
 
 present as to the other matters. She brought him one 
 of the daily papers, and with a little sigh of disappointment 
 removed the religious tl weekly," leaving Frithiof to 
 his depressing study of the column headed "Situations 
 'Vacant." 
 
 Alas ! how short it was compared to the one dedicated 
 to " Situations Wanted." 
 
 There was an editor-reporter needed, who must be a 
 " first-class all-round man ; " but Frithiof could not feel 
 that he was deserving of such epithets, and he could not 
 even write short-hand. There was a * gentleman needed 
 for the canvassing and publishing department of a weekly," 
 but he must be possessed not only of energy but of experi- 
 ence. Agents were needed for steel pens, toilet soap and 
 boys' clothes, but no novices need apply. Even tlr. 
 advertisement for billiard hands was qualified by the tws 
 crushing words, " experienced only." 
 
 " A correspondence clerk wanted" made him look hope- 
 fully at the lines which followed, but unluckily a knowledge 
 of Portuguese was demanded as well as of French and 
 German ; while the corn merchant who would receive a 
 gentleman's son in an office of good position was prudent 
 enough to add the words, " No one need apply who is 
 unable to pay substantial premium." 
 
 Out of the whole list there were only two situations for 
 which he could even enquire, and he soon found that for 
 each of these there were hundreds of applicants. At first 
 his natural hopefulness reasserted itself, and each morning 
 he would set out briskly, resolving to leave no stone 
 unturned, but when days and weeks had passed by in the 
 monotonous search, his heart began to fail him ; he used 
 to start from the little back street in Vauxhall doggedly, 
 dull despair eating at his heart, and a sickening, ever-present 
 consciousness that he was only an insignificant unit strug- 
 gling to find standing-room in a world where selfishness 
 and money-grubbing reigned supreme. 
 
n8 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 Eacn week brought him of course letters from Norway, 
 his uncle sent him letters of introduction to various Lon- 
 don firms, but each letter brought him only fresh 
 disappointment. As the consul had told him, the market 
 was already overcrowded, and though very possibly he 
 might have met with work in the previous summer when 
 all was well with him, no one seemed inclined to befriend 
 this son of a bankn pt, with his bitter tone and proud 
 bearing ; the impression he gave every one was that he 
 was an Ishmaelite with his hand against every man, and 
 it certainly did seem that at present every man's hand was 
 against him. 
 
 People write so much about the dangers of success and 
 prosperity, and the hardening effects of wealth, that they 
 sometimes forget the other side of the picture. Failure is 
 always supposed to make a man patient and humble and 
 good ; it rarely does so, unless to begin with his spirit has 
 been wakened from sleep. The man whose faith has 
 been a mere conventionality, or the man who like Frithiof 
 has professed to believe in life, becomes inevitably bitter 
 and hard when all things are against him. It is just then 
 when a man is hard and bitter, just then when everything 
 else has failed him, that the devil comes to the fore offering 
 pleasures which in happier times would have had no 
 attraction. 
 
 At first certain aspects of London life had startled Fri- 
 thiof ; but he speedily became accustomed to them ; if he 
 thought of them at all it was with indifference rather than 
 disgust. One day, however, he passed with seeming 
 abruptness into a new state of mind. Sick with disap- 
 pointment after the failure of a rather promising scheme 
 suggested to him by one of the men to whom his uncle had 
 written, he walked though the crowded streets too hopeless 
 and wretched even to notice the direction he had taken, 
 and with a miserable perception that his last good card 
 was played, and that all hope of success was over. His 
 
A HARD Y NORSEMAN. 1 19 
 
 future was an absolute blank, his present a keen distress, 
 his past too bright in contrast to bear thinking of. 
 
 After all, had he not been a fool to struggle so long 
 against his fate ? Clearly every one was against him. He 
 would fight no longer j he would give up that notion that 
 high-flown, unpractical notion of paying off his father's 
 debts. To gain an honest living was apparently impossible, 
 the world afforded him no facilities for that, but it 
 afforded him countless opportunities of leading another sort 
 of life. Why should he not take what he could get ? Life 
 was miserable and worthless enough, but at least he might 
 put an end to the hideous monotony of the search after 
 work, at least he might plunge into a phase of life which 
 would have at any rate the charm of novelty. 
 
 It was one of those autumn days when shadow and sun 
 alternate quickly ; a gleam of sunshine now flooded the 
 street with brightness. It seemed to him that a gleam of 
 light had also broken the dreariness of his life. Possibly 
 it might be a fleeting pleasure, but why should he not seize 
 upon it ? His nature, however, was not one to be hurried 
 thoughtlessly into vice. If he sinned he would do so 
 deliberately. He looked the two lives fairly in the face 
 now, and in his heart he knew which attracted him most. 
 The discovery startled him. "The pleasing veil which 
 serves to hide self from itself" was suddenly torn down, 
 and he was seized with the sort of terror which we most of 
 us have experienced 
 
 " As that bright moment's unexpected glare 
 Shows us the best and worst of what we are." 
 
 " Why not ? why not ? " urged the tempter. And the 
 vague shrinking seemed to grow less ; nothing in heaven 
 or earth seemed real to him ; he felt that nothing mattered 
 a straw. As well that way as any other Why not ? 
 
 It was the critical moment of his life : just as in old 
 pictures one sees an angel and a devil struggling hard to 
 
120 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 turn the balance, so now it seemed that his fate rested 
 with the first influence he happened to come across. 
 
 Why should he not say, " Evil, be thou my good," once 
 and for all, and have done with a fruitless struggle ? That 
 was the thought which seethed in his mind as he slowly 
 made his way along the Strand, surely the least likely street 
 in London where one might expect that the good angel 
 would find a chance of turning the scale. The pushing 
 crowd annoyed him, he paused for a minute, adding 
 another unit to the little cluster of men which may always 
 be seen before the window of a London picture dealer. 
 He stopped less to look at the pictures than for the sake 
 of being still and out of the hurrying tide. His eye wan- 
 dered from landscape to landscape with very faint interest 
 until suddenly he caught sight of a familiar view, which 
 stirred his heart strangely. It was a picture of the 
 Romsdalshorn ; he knew it in an instant, with its strange 
 and beautiful outline, rising straight and sheer up into a 
 wintery blue sky. A thousand recollections came throng- 
 ing back upon him, all the details of a holiday month 
 spent in that very neighbourhood, with his father and Sigrid 
 and Swanhild. He tried to drag himself away, but he 
 could not. Sigrid's face kept rising before him as if in 
 protest against that " Why not ? " which still claimed a 
 hearing within him. 
 
 " If she were here," he thought to himself, " I might 
 keep straight. But that's all over now, and I can't bear 
 this life any longer. I have tried everything, and have 
 failed. And, after all, who cares ? It's the way of the 
 world, I sha'n'tbe worse than thousands of others." 
 
 Still the thought of Sigrid held him in check, the 
 remembrance of her clear blue eyes seemed to force him 
 to go deeper down beneath the surface of the sullen anger 
 and disappointment which were goading him on to an evil 
 life. Was it after all quite true ? Had he really tried 
 Everything ? 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. I2 i 
 
 Two or three times during his wanderings he had thought 
 of Roy Boniface, and had wondered whether he should 
 seek him out again ; but in his trouble he had shrunk 
 from going to comparative strangers, and, as far as busi- 
 ness went, it was scarcely likely that Roy could help him. 
 Besides, of the rest of the family he knew nothing ; for 
 aught he knew the father might be a vulgar, purse-proud 
 tradesman the last sort of man to whom he could allow 
 himself to be under any obligation. 
 
 Again came the horrible temptation, again that sort of 
 terror of his own nature. He turned once more to the 
 picture of the Romsdalshorn ; it seemed to be the one 
 thing which could witness to him of truth and beauty and 
 a life above the level of the beasts. 
 
 Very slowly and gradually he began to see things as 
 they really were ; he saw that if he yielded to this tempta- 
 tion he could never again face Sigrid with a clear 
 conscience. He saw, too, that his only safeguard lay in 
 something which would take him out of himself. " I will 
 get work," he said, almost fiercely. " For Sigrid's sake I'll 
 have one more try." 
 
 And then all at once the evil imaginings faded, and 
 there rose up instead of them a picture of what might be in 
 the future, of a home he might make for Sigrid and Swan- 
 hild here in London, where he now roamed about so 
 wretchedly, of a life which should in every way be a con- 
 trast to his present misery. But he felt, as thousands have 
 felt before him, that he was handicapped in the struggle by 
 his loneliness, and perhaps it was this consciousness more 
 than any expectation of finding work which made him 
 swallow his pride and turn his steps toward Brixton. 
 
122 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 BY the time he reached Brixton it was quite dusk. Roy 
 had never actually given him his address ; but he made 
 inquiries at a shop in the neighbourhood, was offered the 
 loan of a directory, and having found what he needed was 
 soon making his way up the well-swept carriage-drive 
 which led to Rowan Tree House. He was tired with the 
 walk and with his lonely 'day of wasted work and disap- 
 pointment. When he saw the outlines of the big 
 substantial house looming out of the twilight he began to 
 wish that he had never come, for he thought to himself that 
 it would be within just such another house as the Morgans', 
 with its hateful air of money, like the house of Miss Kil- 
 mansegg in the poem, 
 
 " Gold, and gold, and everywhere gold." 
 
 To his surprise the door was suddenly flung open as he 
 approached, and a little boy in a velvet tunic came dancing 
 out on the steps to meet him. 
 
 " Roy ! Roy ! " shouted the little fellow, merrily, " I've 
 come to meet you ! " Then speedily discovering his mis- 
 take, he darted back into the door-way, hiding his face in 
 Cecil's skirt. 
 
 She stood there with a little curly-headed child in her 
 arms, and her soft gray eyes and the deep blue baby eyes 
 looked searching out into the semi-darkness. Frithiof 
 thought the little group looked like a picture of the Holy 
 Family. Somehow he no longer dreaded the inside of the 
 house. For the first time for weeks he felt the sort of 
 rest which is akin to happiness as Cecil recognized him, 
 and came forward with a pretty eagerness of manner to 
 greet him, too much astonished at his sudden appearance 
 or any thought of shyness to intervene. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 123 
 
 "We thought you must have gone back to Norway," 
 she exclaimed. " I am so glad you have come to see us. 
 The children thought it was Roy who opened the gate. 
 He will be home directly. He will be so glad to see you." 
 
 "I should have called before," said Frithiof, "but my 
 days have been very full, and then, too, I was not quite 
 sure of your address." 
 
 He followed her into the brightly lighted hall, and with 
 a sort of satisfaction shut out the damp November twi- 
 light. 
 
 " We have so often spoken of you and your sisters," said 
 Cecil, " but when Roy called at the Arundel and found 
 that you had left without giving any address, we though* 
 you must have gone back to Bergen." 
 
 " Did he call on me again there ? " said Frithiof. " \ 
 remember now he promised that he would come, I ought 
 to have thought of it ; but somehow all was confusion that 
 night, and afterward I was too ill." 
 
 " It must have been terrible for you all alone among 
 strangers in a foreign country," said Cecil, the ready tears 
 starting to her eyes. " Come in and see my mother ; she 
 has often heard how good you all were to us in Norway." 
 
 She opened a door on the left of the entrance hall and 
 took him into one of the prettiest rooms he had ever seen ; 
 the soft crimson carpet, the inlaid rosewood furniture, the 
 book-shelves with their rows of well-bound books, all 
 seemed to belong to each other, and a delightfully home- 
 like feeling came over him as he sat by the fire, answering 
 Mrs. Boniface's friendly inquiries ; he could almost have 
 fancied himself once more in his father's study at Bergen 
 the room where so many of their long winter evenings 
 had been passed. 
 
 They sat there talking for a good half hour before Roy 
 and his father returned, but to Frithiof the time seemed 
 short enough. He scarcely knew what it was that had 
 such a charm for him ; their talk was not particularly 
 brilliant, and yet it somehow interested him. 
 
124 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 Mrs. Boniface was one of those very natural, homely 
 people whose commonplace remarks have a sort of flavour 
 of their own, and Cecil had something of the same gift. 
 She never tried to make an impression, but went on her 
 way so quietly, that it was often not until she was gone 
 that people realised what she had been to them. Perhaps 
 what really chased away Frithiof 's gloom, and banished 
 the look of the Ishmaelite from his face, was the percep- 
 tion that these people really cared for him, that their 
 kindness was no laboured formality but a genuine thing. 
 Tossed about for so long among hard-headed money- 
 makers, forced every day to confront glaring contrasts of 
 poverty and wealth, familiarised with the sight of every 
 kind of evil, it was this sort of thing that he needed. 
 
 And surely it is strange that in these days when people 
 are willing to devote so much time and trouble to good 
 works, so few are willing to make their own homes the 
 havens of refuge they might be. A home is apt to become 
 either a mere place of general entertainment, or else a 
 selfishly guarded spot where we may take our ease without 
 a thought of those who are alone in the world. Many will 
 ask a man in Frithiof 's position to an at-home or a dance, 
 but very few care to take such a one into their real home 
 and make him one of themselves. They will talk sadly 
 about the temptations of town life, but they will not in 
 this matter stir an inch to counteract them. 
 
 Mrs. Boniface's natural hospitality and goodness of 
 heart fitted her admirably for this particular form of kind- 
 ness ; moreover, she knew that her daughter would prove 
 a help and not a hindrance, for she could in all things trust 
 Cecil, who was the sort of girl who can be friends with men 
 without flirting with them. At last the front door opened 
 and footsteps sounded in the hall, little Lance ran out to 
 greet Mr. Boniface and Roy, and Frithiof felt a sudden 
 shame as he remembered the purse-proud tradesman that 
 foolish prejudice had conjured up in his brain a being 
 
A HA RD ) ' NORSEMAN. 1 25 
 
 wholly unlike the kindly, pleasant-looking man who now 
 shook hands with him, seeming in a moment to know who 
 he was and all about him. 
 
 " And so you have been in London all this time ! " 
 exclaimed Roy. " Whereabouts are you staying? " 
 
 " Close to Vauxhall Station," replied Frithiof. " Two or 
 three times I thought of looking you up, but there was 
 always so much to do." 
 
 " You have found work nere, then ? " 
 
 " No, indeed ; I wish I had. It seems to me one may 
 starve in this place before finding anything to do." 
 
 " Gwen wishes to say good-night to you, Herr Falck," 
 said Cecil, leading the little girl up to him ; and the bitter 
 look died out of Frithiof s face for a minute as he stooped 
 to kiss the baby mouth that was temptingly offered to him. 
 
 " It will be hard if in all London we cannot find you 
 something," said Mr. Boniface. " What sort of work do 
 you want ? " 
 
 " I would do anything," said Frithiof. " Sweep a cross- 
 ing if necessary." 
 
 They all laughed. 
 
 " Many people say that vaguely," said Mr. Boniface. 
 " But when one comes to practical details they draw back. 
 The mud and the broom look all very well in the distance, 
 you see." Then as a bell was rung in the hall : " Let us 
 have tea first, and afterward, if you come into my study, 
 we will talk the matter over. We are old-fashioned people 
 in this house, and keep to the old custom of tea and supper. 
 I don't know how you manage such things in Norway, but 
 to my mind it seems that the middle of the day is the time 
 for the square meal, as they say in America." 
 
 If the meal that awaited them in the dining-room was not 
 " square," it was at any rate very tempting ; from the fine 
 damask table cloth to the silver gypsy kettle ; from the 
 delicately arranged chrysanthemums to the Crown Derby 
 cups and saucers, all bespoke a good taste and the personal 
 
126 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 supervision of one who really cared for beauty and order. 
 The very food looked unlike ordinary food, the horseshoes 
 of fancy bread, the butter swan in its parsley-bordered 
 lake, the honeycomb, the cakes hot and cold, and the 
 beautiful bunches of grapes from the green-house, all seemed 
 to have a sort of character of their own. For the first time 
 for weeks Frithiof felt hungry. No more was said of the 
 unappetising subject of the dearth of work, nor did they 
 speak much of their Norwegian recollections, because they 
 knew it would be a sore subject with him just now. 
 
 " By the way, Cecil," remarked Mr. Boniface, when 
 presently a pause came in the general talk, " I saw one of 
 your heroes this morning. Do you go in for hero-worship 
 in Norway, Herr Falck ? My daughter here is a pupil 
 after Carlyle's own heart." 
 
 " We at any rate read Carlyle," said Frithiof. 
 
 " But who can it have been ? " exclaimed Cecil. " Not 
 Signor Donati ? " 
 
 " The very same," said Mr. Boniface. 
 
 " But I thought he was singing at Paris ? " 
 
 " So he is ; he only ran over for a day or two on business, 
 and he happened to look in this morning with Sardoni, who 
 came to arrange about a song of his which we are going to 
 publish." 
 
 " Sardoni seems to me the last sort of man one would 
 expect to write songs," said Roy. 
 
 " But in spite of it he has written a very taking one," said 
 Mr. Boniface, " and I am much mistaken if it does not 
 make a great hit. If so his fortune is made, for you see he 
 can write tenor songs for himself and contralto songs for 
 his wife, and they'll get double royalties that way." 
 
 " But Signor Donati, father, what did he say ? What is 
 he like ? " 
 
 " Well, he is so unassuming and quiet that you would 
 never think it possible he's the man every one is raving 
 about. And, except for that, he's really very much like 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN'. 127 
 
 ather people, talked business very sensibly, a /id seemed as 
 much interested about this song of Sardoni's as if there had 
 never been anything out of the way in his own life at all. 
 I took to him very much." 
 
 ' Can't you get him to sing next summer ? " 
 " I tried, but it is out of the question. He has signed 
 an agreement only to sing for Carrington. But he has 
 promised me to sing at one of our concerts the year after 
 
 next." 
 
 < Fancy having to make one's arrangements so long 
 beforehand ! " exclaimed Cecil. " You must certainly hear 
 him, Herr Falck, when you have a chance ; they say he is 
 the finest barytone in Europe." 
 
 " He made us all laugh this morning," said Mr. Boni- 
 face. " I forget now what started it, something in the 
 words of the song, I fancy, but he began to tell us how 
 yesterday he had been down at some country place with a 
 friend of his, and as they were walking through the grounds 
 they met a most comical old fellow in a tall hat. 
 
 " ' Halloo ! ' exclaimed his friend, ' here's old Sykes the 
 mole-catcher, and I do declare he's got another beaver ! 
 Where on earth does he get them ? ' 
 
 " ' In England,' said Donati to his friend, ' it would 
 hardly do to inquire after his hatter, I suppose.' 
 
 " At which the other laughed of course, and they agreed 
 together that just for a joke they would find out. So they 
 began to talk to the old man, and uresently the friend 
 remarked : 
 
 " ' I say, Sykes, my good fellow, I wish you'd tell me 
 how you manage to get such a succession of hats. Why, 
 you are rigged out quite fresh since I saw you on Monday.' 
 
 " The old mole-catcher gave a knowing wink, and after 
 a little humming and hawing he said : 
 
 " ' Well, sir, yer see I changed clothes yesterday with a 
 gentleman in the middle of a field.' 
 
 " ' Changed clothes with a gentleman ! ' they exclaimed. 
 1 What do vou mean ? ' 
 
128 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 11 And the mole-catcher began to laugh outright, and 
 leading them to a gap in the hedge, pointed away into the 
 distance. 
 
 " * There he be, sir ; there he be,' he said, laughing till 
 he almost choked. ' It be naught but a scarecrow ; but 
 the scarecrows they've kep' me in clothes for many a year.' " 
 
 Frithiof broke out into a ringing boyish laugh ; it was 
 the first time he had laughed for weeks. Cecil guessed as 
 much, and blessed Signor Donati for having been the cause ; 
 but as she remembered what the young Norwegian had 
 been only a few months before, she could not help feeling 
 sad could not help wondering that sorrow should have 
 changed him so terribly. Had Blanche Morgan been faith- 
 ful to him ? she wondered. Or had his change of fortune 
 put an end to everything between them? In any case he 
 must greatly resent the way in which his father had been 
 treated by the English firm, and that alone must make 
 matters very difficult for the two lovers. 
 
 Musing over it all, she became silent and abstracted, and 
 on returning to the drawing-room took up a newspaper, 
 glancing aimlessly down the columns, and wondering what 
 her father and Roy would advise Frithiof to do, and how 
 the discussion in the study was prospering. 
 
 All at once her heart began to beat wildly, for she had 
 caught sight of some lines which threw a startling light on 
 Frithiof 's changed manner, lines which also revealed to her 
 the innermost recesses of her own heart. 
 
 " The marriage arranged between Lord Romiaux and 
 Miss Blanche Morgan, only daughter of Austin Morgan, 
 Esq., will take place on the 3oth instant, at Christ Church, 
 Lancaster Gate." 
 
 She was half frightened at the sudden rage which took 
 possession of her, at the bitterness of the indignation which 
 burned in her heart. What right had Blanche Morgan to 
 play with men ? to degrade love to a mere pastime ? to 
 make the most sacred thing in the world the sport of a sum- 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 129 
 
 mer holiday ? to ruin men's lives for her own amusement ? 
 to lure on a mere boy and flatter and deceive him ; then 
 quietly to throw him over? 
 
 "And how about yourself? " said a voice in her heart. 
 " Are you quite free from what you blame in Blanche 
 Morgan? Will you not be tempted to hope that he may 
 like you? Will you not try to please him? Will it not 
 be a pleasure to you if he cares for your singing ? " 
 
 " All that is quite true," she admitted. " I do care to 
 please him ; I can't help it ; but oh, God ! let me die 
 rather than do him harm ! " 
 
 Her quiet life with the vague feeling of something want- 
 ing in it had indeed been changed by the Norwegian 
 holiday. Now, for the first time, she realized that her un- 
 eventful girlhood was over ; she had become a woman, and, 
 woman-like, she bravely accepted the pain which love had 
 brought into her life, and looked sadly, perhaps, yet 
 unshrinkingly into the future, where it was little likely 
 that anything but grief and anxiety awaited her. For she 
 loved a man who was absolutely indifferent to her, and her 
 love had given her clear insight. She saw that he was a 
 man whose faith in love, both human and divine, had been 
 crushed out of him by a great wrong ; a man whose whole 
 nature had deteriorated and would continue to deteriorate, 
 unless some unforeseen thing should interfere to change his 
 whole view of life. 
 
 But the scalding tears which rose to her eyes were not 
 tears of self-pity ; they were tears of sorrow for Frithiof, of 
 disappointment about his ruined life, of a sad humility as 
 she thought to herself: " Oh ! if only I were fit to help 
 him ! If only ! " 
 
 Meanwhile in the study a very matter-of-fact conversation 
 was being held. 
 
 "What I want to find out," said Mr. Boniface, "is 
 whether you are really in earnest in what you say about 
 work. There are thousands of young men saying exactly 
 
 5 
 
130 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 the same thing, but when you take the trouble to go into 
 their complaint you find that the real cry is not * Give me 
 work by which I can get an honest living ! ' but ' Give me 
 work that does not clash with my tastes work that I 
 thoroughly like.' " 
 
 " I have no particular tastes," said Frithiof, coldly. 
 " The sort of work is quite indifferent to me as long as it 
 will bring in money." 
 
 "You are really willing to begin at the bottom of the 
 ladder and work your way up ? You are not above taking 
 a step which would place you much lower in the social 
 scale ? " 
 
 " A fellow living on the charity of a relation who grudges 
 every farthing, as taking something away from his own 
 children, is not likely to trouble much about the social 
 scale," said Frithiof, bitterly. 
 
 " Very well. Then I will, at any rate, suggest my plan 
 for you, and see what you think of it. If you care to 
 accept it until something better turns up, I can give you a 
 situation in my house of business. Your salary to begin 
 with would be but small ; the man who leaves me next 
 Monday has had only five and twenty shillings a week, and 
 I could not without unfair favouritism give you more at first. 
 But every man has a chance of rising, and I am quite sure 
 that you, with your advantages, would do so. You under- 
 stand that, as I said, it is mere work that I am offering you. 
 Doubtless standing behind a counter will not be very con- 
 genial work to one brought up as you have been ; but you 
 might do infinitely worse, and I can at least promise you 
 that you will be treated as a man not, as in many places 
 you would find it, as a mere ' hand.' " 
 
 Possibly, when he first arrived in London, Frithiof might 
 have scouted such a notion if it had been proposed to him, 
 but now his first question was whether he was really 
 qualified for the situation. Those hard words which had 
 so often confronted him " Experienced only " flashed into 
 his mind. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 131 
 
 " I have had a good education," he said, " and, of course, 
 understand bookkeeping and so forth, but I have had no 
 experience." 
 
 " I quite understand that," said Mr. Boniface. " But 
 you would soon get into the way of things. My son would 
 show you exactly what your work would be." 
 
 " Of course I would," said Roy. " Think it over, 
 Falck, for at any rate it would keep you going for a time 
 while you look round for a better opening." 
 
 " Yes, there is no need to make up your mind to-night. 
 Sleep upon it, and let me know how you decide to-morrow. 
 If you think of accepting the situation, then come and 
 see me in Regent Street between half-past one and two 
 o'clock. We close at two on Saturdays. And in any case, 
 whether you accept or refuse this situation, I hope you 
 will come and spend Saturday to Monday with us here." 
 
 " You are very good," said Frithiof, thinking to himself 
 how unlike these people were to any others he had come 
 across in London. Miss Charlotte Tumour had tried to do 
 him good ; it was part of her creed to try to do good to 
 people. The Bonifaces, on the other hand, had simply 
 been friendly and hospitable to him, had shown him that 
 they really cared for him, that they were sorry for his sor- 
 row, and anxious over his anxieties. But from Rowan 
 Tree House he went away with a sense of warmth about 
 the heart, and from Miss Charlotte he invariably turned 
 away hardened and disgusted. Perhaps it was that she 
 began at the wrong end, and like so many people in the 
 world, offered the hard crust of dogmatic utterances to one 
 who was as yet only capable of being nourished on the real 
 substance of the loaf a man who was dying for want of 
 love, and who no more needed elaborate theological 
 schemes than the starving man in the desert needs the 
 elaborate courses of a dinner-party. 
 
 It is God's way to reveal Himself through man, though 
 We are forever trying to improve upon His way, and en 
 
i 3 2 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 deavouring to convert others by articles of religion instead 
 of the beauty of holiness. 
 
 As Frithiof walked home to Vauxhall he felt more at 
 rest than he had done for many days. They had not 
 preached at him , they had not given him unasked-for 
 advice ; they had merely given one of the best gifts that 
 can be given in this world, the sight of one of those homes 
 where the kingdom of heaven has begun a home, that 
 is, where "righteousness and peace and joy " are the rule, 
 and whatever contradicts this reign of love the rare ex- 
 ception. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE gloomy little lodging-house felt desolate enough to 
 him as he unlocked the door with his latch-key and climbed 
 the creaking stairs to his sparsely furnished room. Evi- 
 dently the three Miss Tumours were having a very 
 animated quarrel, for their voices were pitched in that 
 high key which indicates a stormy atmosphere, and even 
 their words reached him distinctly as he passed by the 
 bedroom which was the arena of strife. 
 
 " But, my dear Caroline " 
 
 " Don't talk nonsense, my dear, you know perfectly 
 well" 
 
 lt Do you mean to say, my dear " 
 
 " I wonder," thought Frithiof, " whether they ever allow 
 each other to finish a sentence. It's like the catch that 
 they used to sing at Balholm, about * Celia's Charms.' If 
 any one ever writes a catch called ' The Quarrel,' he must 
 take care to stick in plenty of * my dears ! ' ' 
 
 Strick economy in gas was practised by the Miss Tum- 
 ours, and Frithiof had to grope about for matches. 
 "Attendance," too, did not apparently include drawing 
 down the blind, or turning down the bed. The room 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 133 
 
 looked most bare and comfortless, and the dismal gray 
 paper, with its oblong slabs, supposed by courtesy to 
 represent granite, was as depressing as the dungeon of 
 Giant Despair's castle. 
 
 To stay here with nothing to do to fag through weary 
 days of disappointing search after work, and then to 
 return to this night after night, was but a sorry prospect. 
 Would it not indeed be well for him if he swallowed his 
 pride and accepted this offer of perfectly honourable work 
 which had been made to him? The idea was in many 
 ways distasteful to him, and yet dare he reject it ? 
 
 Looking honestly into his own mind he detected there 
 something that urged him to snatch at this first chance of 
 work, lest, with fresh failure and disappointment, the very 
 desire for work should die within him, and he should sink 
 into a state which his better nature abhorred. The clatter 
 of tongues still ascended from below. He took off his 
 boots, dropping first one and then the other with a resound- 
 ing thud upon the floor, after the manner of men. Then, 
 wondering whether consciousness of his being within ear- 
 shot would allay the storm, he threw down both boots 
 at once with a portentous noise outside his room and shut 
 and locked the door with emphasis. Still the female battle 
 continued. He threw himself down on the bed, wondering 
 what it was that made families so different. It was not 
 money which gave the tone to the Bonifaces' house. The 
 Morgans were infinitely richer. It was not a great profes- 
 sion of religion. The Miss Tumours were all ardently 
 and disputaciously religious. What was it? 
 
 He fell asleep before he had solved the problem, and 
 had an odd, confused dream. He dreamed that he was 
 climbing the Romsdalshorn, and that darkness had over- 
 taken him. Below him was a sheer precipice, and he could 
 hear the roar of wild beasts as they wandered to and fro 
 thirsting for his blood. 
 
 " They are bound to get me sooner or later," he thought, 
 
134 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " for I can never hold out till daylight. I may as well let 
 myself go." 
 
 And the thought of the horror of that fall was so great 
 that he almost woke with it. But something seemed to 
 quiet him again. It was partly curiosity to understand 
 the meaning of a light which had dawned in the sky, and 
 which deepened and spread every moment. At last he 
 saw that it had been caused by the opening of a door, 
 and in the door way, with a glory of light all about them, 
 he saw the Madonna and the Holy Child. A path of 
 light traced itself from them on the mountain-side to the 
 place where he stood, and he struggled up, no longer 
 afraid to go forward, and without a thought of the beasts 
 or the precipice. And thus struggling on, all details were 
 lost in a flood of light, and warmth, and perfect content, 
 and a welcome that left nothing wanting. 
 
 A pushing back of chairs in the room below suddenly 
 roused him. With a sense of bewilderment, he found him- 
 self lying on the hard lodging-house bed, and heard the 
 quarrelsome voices rising through the floor. 
 
 " Still at it," he thought to himself with a bitter smile. 
 And then he thought of the picture of the Romsdalshorn 
 he had seen that afternoon he remembered a horrible 
 temptation that had seized him remembered Cecil stand- 
 ing in the open door with the child in her arms, remem- 
 bered the perfect welcome he had received fiom the whole 
 house. Should he in his foolish pride drift into the miser- 
 able state of these poor Tumours, and drag through life 
 in poverty, because he was too well-born to take the work 
 he could get ? 
 
 "These poor ladies would be happier even in service 
 than they are here, in what they call independence," he 
 reflected. " I shall take this situation ; it's the first step 
 up." 
 
 The next morning he went to the Swedish Embassy to 
 ask advice once more. 
 
A HARD Y NORSEMAN. 135 
 
 " I am glad to see you," said the consul. " I was hoping 
 you would look in again, for I met old Sivertsen the other 
 day, and he was most anxious to have your address. He 
 said you went off in a hurry, and never gave him time to 
 finish what he was saying." 
 
 Frithiof smiled. 
 
 " He did nothing but inveigh against the rising gener- 
 ation, and *I didn't care to waste the whole morning over 
 that." 
 
 " You have too little diplomacy about you," said the 
 consul. " You do not make the best of your own case. 
 However, Sivertsen seems to have taken a fancy to you, 
 and I advise you to go to him again ; he will most likely 
 offer you work. If I were you, I would make up my mind 
 to take whatever honest work turns up, and throw pride to 
 the winds. Leave your address here with me, and if I 
 hear of anything I'll let you know." 
 
 Frithiof, somewhat unwillingly, made his way to Museum 
 Street, and was ushered into the stuffy little den where 
 Herr Sivertsen sat smoking and writing serenely. He 
 bowed stiffly, but was startled to see the sudden change 
 which came over the face of the old Norwegian at sight of 
 him. 
 
 " So ! You have come back, then ! " he exclaimed, 
 shaking him warmly by the hand, just as though they had 
 parted the best of friends. " I am glad of it. Why didn't 
 you tell me the real state of the case ? Why didn't you tell 
 me you were one of the victims of the accursed thirst for 
 gold? Why didn't you tell me of the hardness and rapa- 
 city of the English firm ? But you are all alike all ! 
 Young men nowadays can't put a decent sentence together ; 
 they clip their words as close as if they were worth a mint 
 of money. A worthless generation ! Sit down, now, sit 
 down, and tell me what you can do. " 
 
 Frithiof, perceiving that what had first seemed like 
 boorishness was really eccentricity, took the proffered 
 
136 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 chair, and tried to shake off the mantle of cold reserve 
 which had of late fallen upon him. 
 
 " I could do translating," he replied. " English, German, 
 or Norwegian. I am willing to do copying ; but there, I 
 suppose, the type-writers would cut me out. Any way, I 
 have four hours to spare in the evening, and I want them 
 filled." 
 
 11 You have found some sort of work, then," already ? " 
 
 " Yes, I have got work which will bring me in twenty- 
 five shillings a week, but it leaves me free from eight 
 o'clock, and I want evening employment." 
 
 Herr Sivertsen gave a grunt which expressed encour- 
 agement and approval. He began shuffling about masses 
 of foolscap and proofs which were strewn in wild confusion 
 about the writing-table. " These are the revised proofs of 
 Scanbury's new book ; take this page and let me see how 
 vou can render it into Norwegian. Here are pen and 
 paper. Sit down and try your hand." 
 
 Frithiof obeyed. Herr Sivertsen seemed satisfied with 
 the result. 
 
 " Put the same page into German," he said. 
 
 Frithiof worked away in silence, and the old author 
 paced to and fro with his pipe, giving a furtive glance now 
 and then at the down-bent head with its fair, obstinate 
 hair brushed erect in Norwegian fashion, and the fine 
 Grecian profile upon which the dark look of trouble sat 
 strangely. In spite of the sarcasm and bitterness which 
 disappointment had roused in Frithiof 's nature the old 
 author saw that such traits were foreign to his real character 
 that they were but a thin veneer, and that beneath them 
 lay the brave and noble nature of the hardy Norseman. 
 The consul's account of his young countryman's story had 
 moved him greatly, and he was determined now to do what 
 he could for him. He rang the bell and ordered the Nor- 
 wegian maid-servant to bring lunch for two, adding an 
 emphatic " Strax ! " (immediately), which made Frithiof 
 look up from his writing. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 137 
 
 " You have finished ? " asked Herr Sivertsen. 
 
 " Not quite. I can't get this last bit quite to my mind. 
 I don't believe there is an equivalent in German for that 
 expression." 
 
 " You are quite right. There isn't. I couldn't get any- 
 thing for it myself. What have you put ? Good ! very 
 good. It is an improvement on what I had thought of. 
 The sentence runs better." 
 
 He took the paper from the table and mumbled through 
 it in an approving tone. 
 
 " Good ! you will do," he said at the end. " Now 
 while we lunch together we can discuss terms. Ha ! what 
 has she brought us ? Something that pretends to be 
 German sausage ! Good heavens ! The depravity of the 
 age ! This German sausage indeed ! I must apologise to 
 you for having it on the table, but servants are all alike 
 nowadays all alike ! Not one of them can understand 
 how to do the marketing properly. A worthless genera- 
 tion ! " 
 
 Frithiof began to be faintly amused by the old man, and 
 as he walked away from Museum Street with a week's 
 work under his arm he felt in better spirits than he had 
 done for some time. 
 
 With not a little curiosity he sought out the Bonifaces' 
 shop in Regent Street. It had a well-ordered, prosperous 
 look about it : double doors kept the draught from those 
 within, the place was well warmed throughout ; on each 
 side of the door was a counter with a desk and stool, Mr. 
 Boniface being one of those who consider that sitting is as 
 cheap as standing, and the monotony of the long shelves 
 full of holland-covered portfolios was broken by busts of 
 Beethoven, Mozart, Wagner, and other great musicians. 
 The inner shop was consecrated to instruments of all kinds, 
 and through this Frithiof was taken to Mr. Boniface's 
 private room. 
 
 " Well," said the shop-owner, greeting him kindly. 
 " And have you made your decision ? " 
 
138 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " Yes, sir, I have decided to accept the situation," said 
 Frithiof. And something in his face and bearing showed 
 plainly that he was all the better for his choice. 
 
 *' I forget whether I told you about the hours," said Mr. 
 Boniface. "Half-past eight in the morning till half-past 
 seven at night, an hour out of that for dinner, and half an 
 hour for tea. You will have of course the usual bank 
 holidays, and we also arrange that each of our men shall 
 have a fortnight some time during the summer." 
 
 " You are very thoughtful for your hands," said Frithiof. 
 " It is few, I should fancy, who would allow so much." 
 
 " I don't know that," said Mr. Boniface. " A good 
 many, I fancy, try something of the sort, and I am quite 
 sure that it invariably answers. It is not in human nature 
 to go on forever at one thing every one needs variety. 
 Business becomes a tread-mill if you never get a thorough 
 change, and I like my people to put their heart into the 
 work. If you try to do that you will be of real value, and 
 are bound to rise." 
 
 " Look," said Roy, showing him a neatly drawn-out 
 plan of names and dates. " This is the holiday chart 
 which we worked out this summer. It takes my father 
 quite a long time to arrange it all and make each dovetail 
 properly with the other." 
 
 They lingered for a few minutes talking over the details of 
 the business, then Roy took Frithiof down into the shop 
 again, and in the uninterrupted quiet of the Saturday after- 
 noon showed him exactly what his future work would be. 
 He was to preside at the song-counter, and Roy initiated 
 him into the arrangement of the brown-holland portfolios 
 with their black lettering, showed him his desk with 
 account-books, order-book, and cash box, even made him 
 practise rolling up music in the neat white wrappers that 
 lay ready to hand a feat which at first he did not manage 
 very quickly. 
 
 " I am afraid all this must be very uncongenial to you," 
 said Roy." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 139 
 
 " Perhaps," said Frithiof. " But it will do as well as 
 anything else. And indeed," he added, warmly, " one 
 would put up with a great deal for the sake of being under 
 such a man as Mr. Boniface." 
 
 " The real secret of the success of the business is that 
 he personally looks after every detail," said Roy. " All 
 the men he employs are fond of him j he expects them to 
 do their best for him, and he does his best for them. I 
 think you may really be happy enough here, though of 
 course it is not at all the sort of life you were brought up to 
 expect." 
 
 Each thought involuntarily of the first time they had 
 met, and of Blanche Morgan's ill-timed speech : " Only a 
 shop-keeper ! " Roy understood perfectly well what it 
 was that brought the bitter look into his companion's face, 
 and, thinking that they had stayed long enough for Frithiof 
 to get a pretty clear idea of the work which lay before him 
 on Monday morning, he proposed that they should go 
 home together. He had long ago got over the selfish 
 desire to be quit of the responsibility of being with -the 
 Norwegian ; his first awkward shyness had been, after all, 
 natural enough, for those whose lives have been very 
 uneventful seldom understand how to deal with people in 
 trouble, and are apt to shrink away in unsympathetic 
 silence, because they have not learned from their own sore 
 need what it is that human nature craves for in sorrow. 
 But each time he met Frithiof now, he felt that the terrible 
 evening at the Arundel had broken down the barriers which 
 hitherto had kept him from friendship with any one out of 
 his own family. Mere humanity had forced him to stay 
 as the solitary witness of an overwhelming grief, and he 
 had gained in this way a knowledge of life and a sympathy 
 with Frithiof, of which he had been quite incapable before. 
 
 He began to know intuitively how things would strike 
 Frithiof, and as they went down to Brixton he prepared 
 him for what he shrewdly surmised would be the chief dis- 
 agreeableness in his business life. 
 
I 4 o A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 11 1 don't think you heard," he began, " that there is 
 another partner in our firm a cousin of my father's 
 James Homer. I daresay you will not come across him 
 very much, but he is fond of interfering now and then, 
 and sometimes if my father is away he gets fussy and 
 annoying. He is not at all popular in the shop, and I 
 thought I would just warn you beforehand, though of 
 course you are not exactly expecting a bed of roses." 
 
 It would have been hard to say exactly what Frithiof 
 was expecting ; his whole life had been unstrung, and this 
 new beginning represented to him merely a certain amount 
 of monotonous work to the tune of five-and- twenty shil- 
 lings a week. 
 
 When they reached Rowan Tree House they found a 
 carriage waiting at the door. 
 
 " Talk of the angel and its wings appear," said Roy. 
 " The Homers are calling here. What a nuisance ! " 
 
 Frithiof felt inclined to echo this sentiment, when he 
 found himself in the pretty drawing-room once more, and 
 became conscious of the presence of an overdressed woman 
 and a bumptious little man with mutton-chop whiskers and 
 inquisitive eyes, whose air of patronage would have been 
 comical had it not been galling to his Norwegian indepen- 
 dence. Roy had done well to prepare him, for nothing 
 could have been so irritating to his sensitive refinement as 
 the bland self-satisfaction, the innate vulgarity of James 
 Horner. Mrs. Boniface and Cecil greeted him pleasantly, 
 and Mrs. Horner bowed her lofty bonnet with dignity 
 when he was introduced to her, and uttered a platitude 
 about the weather in an encouraging tone, which speedily 
 changed, however, when she discovered that he was actu- 
 ally "one of the hands." 
 
 " The Bonifaces have no sense of what is fitting," she 
 said afterward to her husband. " The idea of introducing 
 one of the shopmen to me ! I never go into Loveday's 
 drawing-room without longing to leave behind me a book 
 on etiquette," 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 141 
 
 " She's a well meaning soul," said James Horner, con- 
 descendingly. " But countrified still, and unpolished. It's 
 strange after so many years of London life." 
 
 " Not strange at all," retorted Mrs. Horner, snappishly. 
 " She never tries to copy correct models, so how's it likely 
 her manners should improve ? I'm not at all partial to 
 Cecil either. They'll never make a stylish girl of her with 
 their ridiculous ideas about stays and all that. I'll be 
 bound her waist's a. good five-and-twenty inches." 
 
 " Oh, well, my dear, I really don't see much to find fault 
 with in Cecil." 
 
 " But I do," said Mrs. Horner, emphatically. " For all 
 her quietness there's a deal of obstinacy about the girl. I 
 should like to know what she means to do with that crimi- 
 nal's children that she has foisted on to the family ! I 
 detest people who are always doing outrees things like that ; 
 it's all of a piece with their fads about no stays and Jaeger's 
 woolen clothes. The old customs are good enough for 
 me, and I'm sure rather than let myself grow as stout as 
 Loveday I'd tight-lace night as well as day." 
 
 " She's not much of a figure, it's true." 
 
 " Figure, indeed ! " echoed his wife. " A feather-bed 
 tied round with a string, that's what she is." 
 
 " But she makes the house very comfortable, and always 
 has a good table," said Mr. Horner, reflectively. 
 
 His wife tossed her head and flushed angrily, for she 
 knew quite well that while the Bonifaces spent no more on 
 housekeeping than she did, their meals were always more 
 tempting, more daintily arranged. She was somehow des- 
 titute of the gift of devising nice little dinners, and could 
 by no means compass a pretty-looking supper. 
 
 " It seems to me, you know," said James Horner, " that 
 we go on year after year in a dull round of beef and mut- 
 ton, mutton and beef." 
 
 " Well, really, Mr. H.," she replied, sharply, " if you 
 want me to feed you on game and all the delicacies of the 
 season, you must give me a little more cash, that's all." 
 
142 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " I never said that I wanted you to launcn out into all 
 the delicacies of the season. Loveday doesn't go in for 
 anything extravagant ; but somehow one wearies of eternal 
 beef and mutton. I wish they'd invent another animal ! " 
 
 " And till they do, I'll thank you not to grumble, Mr. 
 H. If there's one thing that seems to me downright 
 unchristian it is to grumble at things. Why, where's that 
 idiot of a coachman driving us to ? It's half a mile further 
 that way. He really must leave us ; J can't stand having 
 a servant one can't depend on. He has no brains at all." 
 
 She threw down the window and shouted a correction to 
 the coachman, but, unluckily, in drawing in her head again 
 the lofty bonnet came violently into contact with the roof 
 of the carriage. " Dear ! what a bother ! " she exclaimed. 
 " There's my osprey crushed all to nothing ! " 
 
 "Well, Cecil would say it was a judgment on you," said 
 James Horner, smiling. " Didn't you hear what she was 
 telling us just now ? they kill the parent birds by scores and 
 leave the young ones to die of starvation. It's only in the 
 breeding season that they can get those feathers at all." 
 
 " Pshaw ! what do I care for a lot of silly little birds ! " 
 said Mrs. Horner, passing her hand tenderly and anxiously 
 over the crushed bonnet. " I shall buy a fresh one on 
 Monday, if it's only to spite that girl ; she's forever taking 
 up some craze about people or animals being hurt. It's 
 no affair of mine ; my motto is ' Live and let live ; ' and 
 don't be forever ferreting up grievances." 
 
 Frithiof breathed more freely when the Homers had left 
 Rowan Tree House, and indeed every one seemed to feel 
 that a weight had been removed, and a delightful sense of 
 ease took possession of all. 
 
 " Cousin Georgina will wear ospreys to the bitter end, 
 I prophesy," said Roy. " You'll never convince her that 
 anything she likes is really hard on others." 
 
 " Of course, many people have worn them before they 
 knew of the cruelty," said Cecil, " but afterward I can f t 
 think how they can." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 143 
 
 " You see, people as a rule don't really care about pain 
 at a distance," said Frithiof. " Torture thousands of these 
 herons and egrets by a lingering death, and though people 
 know it is so they won't care ; but take one person within 
 hearing of their cries, and that person will wonder how any 
 human being can be such a barbarian as to wear these so 
 called ospreys." 
 
 " I suppose it is that we are so very slow to realise pain 
 that we don't actually see." 
 
 " People don't really want to stop pain till it makes them 
 personally uncomfortable," replied Frithiof. 
 
 " That sounds horribly selfish." 
 
 " Most things come round to selfishness when you trace 
 them out." 
 
 " Do you really quite think that ? I don't think it can 
 be true, because it is not of one's self that one thinks in 
 trying to do away with the sufferings of the world ; reformers 
 always know that they will have to endure a great deal of 
 pain themselves, and it is the thought of lessening it for 
 others that makes them brave enough to go on." 
 
 " But you must allow," said Frithiof, " that to get up a 
 big subscription you must have a harrowing account of a 
 catastrophe. You must stir people's hearts so that they 
 won't be comfortable again till they have given a guinea ; 
 it is their own pain that prompts them to act their own 
 personal discomfort." 
 
 " That may be, perhaps ; but it is not altogether selfish- 
 ness if they really do give help ; it must be a God-like thing 
 that makes them want to cure pain a devil would gloat 
 over it. Why should you call it selfishness because the 
 good pleases them ? ' Le bien me plait ' was a good enough 
 motto for the Steadfast Prince, why not for the rest of us ?" 
 
 " But is it orthodox, surely, to do what you dislike 
 doing?" 
 
 " Yes," struck in Roy, ts like the nursery rhyme about 
 
 " ' The twelve Miss Pellicoes they say were always taught 
 
 To do the thing they didn't like, which means the thing they ought.' " 
 
144 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " But that seems to me exactly what is false," said Cecil. 
 " Surely we have to grow into liking the right and the 
 unselfish, and hating the thing that only pleases the lower 
 part of us ? " 
 
 " But the growth is slow with most of us," said Mr. Boni- 
 face. " There's a specimen for you," and he glanced to- 
 ward the door where an altercation was going on between 
 Master Lance and the nurse wfco had come to fetch him to 
 bed. 
 
 " Oh, come, Lance, don't make such a noise," cried 
 Cecil, crossing the room and putting a stop to the sort of 
 war-dance of rage and passion which the little fellow was 
 executing. " Why, what do you think would happen to you 
 if you were to sit up late ? " 
 
 " What ? " asked Lance, curiosity gaining the upper hand 
 and checking the frenzy of impatience which had possessed 
 him. 
 
 " You would be a wretched little cross white child, and 
 would never grow up into a strong man. Don't you want 
 to grow big and strong so that you can take care of Gwen ? " 
 
 " And I'll take care of you, too," he said, benevolently. 
 " I'll take you all the way to Norway, and row you in a 
 boat, and shoot the bears." 
 
 Frithiof smiled. 
 
 " The trouble generally is to find bears to shoot." 
 
 " Yes, but Cecil did see where a bear had made its bed 
 up on Munkeggen, didn't you, Cecil? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, and you shall go with me some day," she 
 said, hurrying the little fellow off because she thought the 
 allusion to Munkeggen would perhaps hurt Frithiof. 
 
 Roy was on the point of taking up the thread of conver- 
 sation again about Norway, but she promptly intervened. 
 
 " I don't know how we shall cure Lance of dancing with 
 rage like that ; we have the same scene every night." 
 
 " You went the right way to work just now," said Mr. 
 Boniface. " You made him understand why his own wishes 
 
' A HARDY qgRSEMAN. 145 
 
 must be thwarted, and you see he was quite willing to be- 
 lieve what you said. You had a living proof of what you 
 were arguing he did what he had once disliked because 
 he saw that it was the road to something higher and better, 
 and more really desirable than his play down here. In 
 time he will have a sort of respectful liking for the road 
 which once he hated." 
 
 " The only drawback is," said Frithiof, rather bitterly,* 
 " that he may follow the road, and it may not lead him to 
 what he expects ; he may go to bed like an angel, and yet, 
 in spite of that, lose his health, or grow up without a chance 
 of taking you to Norway or shooting bears." 
 
 " Well, what then ? " said Cecil, quietly. " It will have 
 led him on in the right direction, and if he is disappointed 
 of just those particular things, why, he must look further 
 and higher." 
 
 Frithiof thought of his dream and was silent. 
 
 " I'm going to make tea, Roy," said Mrs. Boniface, lay- 
 ing down her netting, " and you had better show Herr 
 Falck his room. I hope you'll often come and spend Sun- 
 day with us," she added, with a kindly glance at the Nor- 
 wegian. 
 
 In the evening they had music. Roy and Cecil both 
 sung well ; their voices were not at all out of the common, 
 but no pains had been spared on their training, and Frith- 
 iof liked the comfortable, informal way in which they sung 
 one thing after another, treating him entirely as one of the 
 family. 
 
 "And now it is your turn," said Cecil, after awhile. 
 " Father, where is that Amati that somebody sent you on 
 approval ? Perhaps Herr Falck would try it ? " 
 
 " Oh, do you play the violin ? " said Mr. Boniface ; " that 
 is capital. You'll find it in my study cupboard, Cecil ; 
 stay, here's the key." 
 
 Frithiof protested that he was utterly out of practice, 
 that it was weeks since he had touched his violin, which 
 
146 A HARDY^NORSEMAN.' 
 
 had been left behind in Norway; but when he actually 
 saw the Amati he couldn't resist it, and it ended in his 
 playing to Cecil's accompaniment for the rest of the even- 
 ing. 
 
 To Cecil the hours seemed to fly, and Mrs. Boniface, 
 after a preliminary round of tidying up the room, came 
 and stood by her, watching her bright face with motherly 
 contentment. 
 
 " Prayer time, darling," she said, as the sonata came to 
 an end ; " and since it's Saturday night we mustn't be 
 late." 
 
 " Ten o'clock already ? " she exclaimed ; " I had no idea 
 it was so late ! What hymn will you have, father? " 
 
 " The Evening Hymn," said Mr. Boniface ; and Frithiof, 
 wondering a little what was going to happen, obediently 
 took the place assigned him, saw with some astonishment 
 that four white-capped maid-servants had come into the 
 drawing-room and were sitting near the piano, and that 
 Mr. Boniface was turning over the leaves of a big Bible. 
 He had a dim recollection of having read something in an 
 English poem about a similar custom, and racked his 
 brain to remember what it could be, until the words of a 
 familiar psalm broke the stillness of the room, and recalled 
 him to the present. 
 
 "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence 
 cometh my help," read Mr. Boniface. And as he went on, 
 the beautiful old poem with its tender reassuring cadences 
 somehow touched Frithiof, so that when they stood up to 
 sing "Glory to Thee, my God, this night," he did not 
 cavil at each line as he would have done a little while 
 before, but stood listening reverently, conscious of a vague 
 desire for something in which he felt himself to be lacking. 
 After all, the old beliefs which he had dismissed so lightly 
 from his mind were not without a power and beauty of 
 their own. 
 
 " I wish I could be like these people," he thought to 
 himself, kneeling for the first time for years. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 147 
 
 And though he did not hear a word of the prayer, and 
 could not honestly have joined in it if he had heard, his 
 mind was full of a longing which he could not explain. 
 The fact was that in the past he had troubled himself very 
 little about the matter, he had allowed the "zeit geist" to 
 drive him as it would, and following the fashion of his 
 companions, with a comfortable consciousness of having 
 plenty to keep him in countenance, he had thrown off the 
 old faiths. 
 
 He owned as much to Cecil the next day when, after 
 breakfast, they chanced to be alone together for a few 
 minutes. 
 
 " Have you found any Norwegian service in London, or 
 will you come with us ? " she asked, unconsciously. 
 
 " Oh," he replied, " I gave up that sort of thing long 
 ago, and while you are out I will get on with some trans- 
 lation I have in hand." 
 
 " I beg your pardon," she said, colouring crimson ; " I 
 had no idea, or I should not have asked." 
 
 But there was not the faintest shade of annoyance in 
 Frithiofs face ; he seemed puzzled at her confusion. 
 
 " The services bored me so," he explained. He did not 
 add as he had done to Blanche that in his opinion religion 
 was only fit for women, perhaps because it would have 
 been difficult to make such a speech to Cecil, or perhaps 
 because the recollection of the previous evening still ling- 
 ered with him. 
 
 " Oh," said Cecil, smiling as she recognized the boyish- 
 ness of his remark : " I suppose every one goes through a 
 stage of being bored. Roy used to hate Sunday when he 
 was little ; he used to have a Sunday pain which came on 
 quite regularly when we were starting to chapel, so that 
 he could stay at home." 
 
 " I know you will all think me a shocking sinner to stay 
 at home translating this book," said Frithiof. 
 
 " No, we shan't," said Cecil, quietly. " If you thought 
 
148 A HARDY NORSEMAN'. 
 
 it was right to go to church of course you would go. You 
 look at things differently." 
 
 He was a little startled by her liberality. 
 
 " You assume by that that I always do what I know to 
 be right," he said, smiling. " What makes you suppose 
 any such thing ? " 
 
 " I can't tell you exactly ; but don't you think one has a 
 sort of instinct as to people ? Without really having heard 
 anything about them, one can often know that they are 
 good or bad." 
 
 " I think one is often horribly mistaken in people," said 
 Frithiof, moodily. 
 
 " Yes ; sometimes one gets unfairly prejudiced, perhaps 
 by a mere likeness to another person whom one dislikes. 
 Oh, I quite allow that this sort of instinct is not infallible." 
 
 " You are much more liable to think too well of people 
 than not well enough," said Frithiof. " You are a woman, 
 and have seen but little of the world. Wait till you have 
 been utterly deceived in some one, and then your eyes will 
 be opened, and you will see that most people are at heart 
 mean and selfish and contemptible." 
 
 "But there is one thing that opens one's eyes to see 
 what is good in people," said Cecil. " You can't love all 
 humanity and yet think them mean and contemptible, you 
 soon see that they are worth a great deal." 
 
 " It is as you said just now," said Frithiof, after a 
 minute's silence, " we look at things differently. You look 
 at the world out of charitable eyes ; I look at it seeing its 
 baseness and despising it. Some day you will see that 
 my view is correct; you will find that your kindly judg- 
 ments are wrong. Perhaps I shall be the first to unde- 
 ceive you, for you are utterly wrong about me. You 
 think me good, but it is ten to one that I go to the bad 
 altogether ; after all, it would be the easiest way and the 
 most amusing." 
 
 He had gone on speaking recklessly, but Cecil felt much 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 149 
 
 too keenly to be checked by any conventionality as to the 
 duty of talking only of surface matters. 
 
 " You are unjust to the world, yourself included ! " she 
 exclaimed. " I believe that you have too much of the 
 hardy Norseman about you ever to hanker after a life of 
 ease and pleasure which must really ruin you." 
 
 " That speech only shows that you have formed too 
 high an estimate of our national character," said Frithiof. 
 " Perhaps you don't know that the Norwegians are often 
 drunkards ? " 
 
 " Possibly ; and so are the English ; but, in spite of 
 that, is not the real national character true and noble and 
 full of a sense of duty ? What I meant about you was that 
 I think you do try to do the things you see to be right. 
 I never thought you were perfect." 
 
 " Then if I do the things that I see to be right I can 
 only see a very little, that's certain," he said, lightly. 
 
 " Exactly so," she replied, unable to help laughing a 
 little at his tone. " And I think that you have been too 
 lazy to take the trouble to try and see more. However, 
 that brings us round again to the things that bore you. 
 Would you like to write at this table in the window ? You 
 will be quite quiet in here till dinner-time." 
 
 She found him pens and ink, tore a soiled sheet off the 
 blotting-pad, drew up the blind so as to let in just enough 
 sunshine, and then left him to his translating. 
 
 " What a strange girl she is," he thought to himself. 
 " As frank and outspoken as a boy, and yet with all sorts 
 of little tender touches about her. Sigrid would like her j 
 they did take to one another at Balholm, I remember." 
 
 Then, with a bitter recollection of one who had eclipsed 
 all others during that happy week on the Sogne Fjord, 
 the hard look came back to his face, and taking up his 
 pen he began to work doggedly at Herr Sivertsen's manu- 
 script. 
 
 The next morning his new life began ; he turned his 
 
150 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 back on the past and deliberately made his downward 
 step on the social ladder, which nevertheless meant an 
 upward step on the ladder of honesty and success. Still 
 there was no denying that the loss of position chafed him 
 sorely ; he detested having to treat such a man as James 
 Horner as his master and employer ; he resented the free- 
 and-easy tone of the other men employed on the premises. 
 Mr. Horner, who was the sort of man who would have 
 patronized an archangel for the sake of showing off his 
 own superior affability, unluckily chanced to be in the 
 shop a good deal during that first week, and the new hand 
 received a large share of his notice. Frithiofs native 
 courtesy bore him up through a good deal, but at last his 
 pride got the better of him, and he made it so perfectly 
 apparent to the bumptious little man that he desired to 
 have as little to do with him as possible, that James 
 Horner's bland patronage speedily changed to active dis- 
 like. 
 
 " What induced you to choose that Falck in Smith's 
 place ? " he said to Mr. Boniface, in a grumbling tone. 
 He persisted in dropping the broad " a " in Frithiofs name, 
 and pronouncing it as if it rhymed with " talc " a sound 
 peculiarly offensive to Norwegian ears. 
 
 " He is a friend of Roy's," was the reply. " What is it 
 that you dislike about him ? He seems to me likely to 
 prove very efficient." 
 
 " Oh, yes ; he has his wits about him, perhaps rather 
 too much so, but I can't stand the ridiculous airs the fellow 
 gives himself. Order him to do anything, and he'll do it 
 as haughtily as though he were master and I servant ; 
 and as for treating him in a friendly way it's impossible ; 
 he's as stand-offish as if he were a Croesus instead of a poor 
 beggar without a penny to bless himself with." 
 
 " He is a very . reserved fellow," said Mr. Boniface ; 
 " and you must remember that this work is probably dis- 
 tasteful to him. You see he has been accustomed to a 
 very different D9sition." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 151 
 
 " Why his father was nothing but a fish merchant who 
 went bankrupt." 
 
 " But out in Norway merchants rank much more highly 
 than with us. Besides, the Falcks are of a very old family." 
 
 " Well, really, I never expected to hear such a radical 
 as you speak up for old family and all that nonsense," 
 said James Homer. " But I see you are determined t o 
 befriend this fellow, so it's no good my saying anything 
 against it. I hope you may find him all you expect. For 
 my part I consider him a most unpromising young man ; 
 there's an aggressiveness about his face and bearing that 
 I don't like at all. A dangerous, headstrong sort of char- 
 acter, and not in the least fit for the position you have 
 given him." 
 
 With which sweeping condemnation Mr. Homer left the 
 room, and Roy, who had kept a politic silence throughout 
 the scene, threw down his pen and went into a subdued fit 
 of laughter. 
 
 " You should see them together, father, it's as good as 
 a play," he exclaimed. " Falck puts on his grand air and 
 is crushingly polite the moment Cousin James puts in an 
 appearance, and that nettles him and he becomes more 
 and more vulgar and fussy, and so they go poking each 
 other up worse and worse every minute." 
 
 " It's very foolish of Falck," said Mr. Boniface. " If he 
 means to get on in life, he will have to learn the art of 
 rising above such paltry annoyances as airs of patronage 
 and manners that jar on him." 
 
 Meanwhile, down below in the shop, Frithiof had for- 
 gotton his last encounter with James Homer, and as he 
 set things in order for the Saturday afternoon closing, his 
 thoughts were far away. He sorted music and took down 
 one portfolio after another mechanically, while all the time 
 it seemed to him that he was wandering with Blanche 
 through the sweet-scented pine woods, hearing her fresh, 
 clear voice, looking into the lovely eyes which had stolen 
 
1 52 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 his heart. The instant two o'clock sounded, the hour of 
 his release, he snatched up his hat and hurried away ; his 
 dreams of the past had taken so strong a hold upon him 
 that he felt he must try for at least one more sight of the 
 face that haunted him so persistently. 
 
 He had touched no food since early morning, but he 
 could no more have eaten at that moment than have turn- 
 ed aside in some other direction. Feeling as though some 
 power outside himself were drawing him onward, he fol- 
 lowed with scarcely a thought of the actual way, until he 
 found himself within sight of the Lancaster Gate House. 
 A striped red and white awning had been erected over Ihe 
 steps, he caught sight of it through the trees, and his heart 
 seemed to stand still. Hastily crossing the wide road 
 leading to the church, he gained a better view of the pave- 
 ment in front of Mr. Morgan's house ; dirty little street 
 children with eager faces were clustered about the railings, 
 and nurse-maids with perambulators flanked the red felt 
 which made a pathway to the carriage standing before the 
 door. He turned sick and giddy. 
 
 " Fine doings there, sir," remarked the crossing sweeper, 
 who was still sweeping up the autumn leaves just as he 
 had been doing when Frithiof had passed him after his 
 interview with Blanche. " They say the bride's an heiress 
 and a beauty too. Well, well, it's an unequal world ! " 
 and the old man stopped to indulge in a paroxysm of cough- 
 ing, then held out a trembling hand. 
 
 " Got a copper about you, sir ? " he asked. 
 
 Frithiof, just because the old man made that remark 
 about an unequal world, dropDed a sixpence into the out- 
 stretched palm. 
 
 lt God bless you, sir ! " said the crossing-sweeper, begin- 
 ning to sweep up the fallen leaves with more spirit than 
 ever. 
 
 " Violets, sir, sweet violets ? " cried a girl whose eye 
 had caught the gleam of the silver coin. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 153 
 
 She held the basket toward him, but he shook his head 
 and walked hurriedly away toward the church. Yet the 
 incident never left his memory, and to the end of his life 
 the scent of violets was hateful to him. Like one in a 
 nightmare, he reached the church door. The organ was 
 crashing out a jubilant march ; there was a sort of subdued 
 hum of eager anticipation from the crowd of spectators. 
 
 " Are you a friend of the bride, sir ? " asked an official. 
 
 " No," he said, icily. 
 
 " Then "the side aisle, if you please, sir. The middle 
 aisle is reserved for friends only." 
 
 He quietly took the place assigned him and waited. It 
 did not seem real to him, the crowded church, the whisper- 
 ing people j all that seemed real was the horrible sense of 
 expectation. 
 
 " Oh, it will be well worth seeing," remarked a woman 
 who sat beside him to her companion. "They always 
 manages things well in this place. The last time I come 
 it was to see Lady Graham's funeral. Lor' ! it was jest 
 beautiful ! After all, there ain't nothin' that comes up to 
 a real good funeral. It's so movin' to the feelin's, ain't 
 it?" 
 
 An icy numbness crept over him, a most appalling feel- 
 ing of isolation. " This is like dying," he thought to him- 
 self. And then, because the congregation stood up, he 
 too dragged himself to his feet. The march had changed 
 to a hymn. White-robed choristers walked slowly up the 
 middle aisle ; their words reached him distinctly : 
 
 " Still in the pure espousal 
 Of Christian man and maid." 
 
 Then suddenly he caught sight of the face which had 
 more than once been pressed to his, of the eyes which had. 
 lured him on so cruelly. It was only for a moment. She 
 passed by with her attendant bridemaids, and black dark- 
 ness seemed to fall upon him, though he stood there out- 
 wardly calm, just like an indifferent spectator. 
 
I 5 4 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 11 Did you see her? " exclaimed his neighbour. " My ! 
 ain't she jest pretty ! Satin dress, ain't it ? " 
 
 " No, bless your heart, not satin," replied the other. 
 " Twas brocade, and a guinea a yard, I shouldn't wonder." 
 
 Yet through all the whispering and the subdued noise of 
 the great congregation he could hear Blanche's clear voice. 
 " I will always trust you," she had said to him on Mun- 
 keggen. Now he heard her answer " I will " to another 
 question. 
 
 After that, prayers and hymns seemed all mixed up in a 
 wild confusion. Now and then, between the heads of the 
 crowd, he caught a vision of a slim, white-robed figure, and 
 presently Mendelssohn's " Wedding March " was struck up, 
 and he knew that she would pass down the aisle once 
 more. Would her face be turned in his direction ? Yes ; 
 for a little child scattered flowers before her, and she 
 glanced round at it with a happy, satisfied smile. As for 
 Frithiof, he just stood there passively, and no one watch- 
 ing him could have known of the fierce anguish that wrung 
 his heart. As a matter of fact, nobody observed him at 
 all ; he was a mere unit in the crowd ; and with human 
 beings all round him, yet in absolute loneliness, he passed 
 out of the church into the chill autumnal air, to 
 
 " Take up his burden of life again, 
 Saying only, ' It might have been.' " 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE cemetery just outside the Stadsport at Bergen, which 
 had called forth the eager admiration of Blanche Morgan in 
 the previous summer, looked perhaps even lovelier now 
 that winter had come with its soft, white shroud. The 
 trees, instead of their green leaves, stretched out rime- 
 laden branches against the clear, frosty sky ; the crosses 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 155 
 
 on the graves were fringed with icicles, which, touched 
 here and there by the lovely rays of the setting sun, shone 
 ruby-red, or in the shade gleamed clear as diamonds 
 against the background of crisp white snow. Away in the 
 distance Ulriken reared his grand old head majestically, a 
 dark streak of precipitous rock showing out now and then 
 through the veil which hid his summer face j and to the 
 right, in the valley, the pretty Lungegaarsvand was one 
 great sheet of ice, over which skaters glided merrily. 
 
 The body of Sigurd Falck rested beside that of his wife 
 in the midst of all this loveliness, and one winter afternoon 
 Sigrid and little Swanhild came to bring to the grave their 
 wreaths and crosses, for it was their father's birthday. 
 They had walked from their uncle's house laden with all the 
 flowers they had been able to collect, and now stood at the 
 gate of the cemetery, which opened stiffly, owing to the 
 frost. Sigrid looked older and even sadder than she had 
 done in the first shock of her father's death, but little 
 Swanhild had just the same fair rosy face as before, and 
 there was a veiled excitement and eagerness in her manner 
 as she pushed at the cemetery gate ; she was able to take 
 a sort of pleasure in bringing these birthday gifts, and even 
 had in her heart a keen satisfaction in the certainty that 
 " their grave" would look prettier than any of the others. 
 
 " No one else has remembered his birthday," she said, as 
 they entered the silent grave-yard. " See, the snow is quite 
 untrodden. Sigrid, when are they going to put father's 
 name on the stone ? " and she pointed to the slanting 
 marble slab which leaned against the small cross. " There 
 is only mother's name still. Won't they put a bigger slab 
 instead where there will be room for both ? " 
 
 " Not now," said Sigrid, her voice trembling. 
 
 " But why not, Sigrid ? Every one else has names put. 
 It seems as if we had forgotten him." 
 
 " Oh, no, no," said Sigrid, with a sob. l( It isn't that, 
 darling ; it is that we remember so well, and know what he 
 would have wished about it." 
 
156 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " I don't understand," said the child, wistfully. 
 
 " It is in this way," said Sigrid, taking her hand tenderly. 
 " I cannot have money spent on the tombstone, because 
 he would not have liked it. Oh, Swanhild ! you must 
 know it some day, you shall hear it now it was not only 
 his own money that was lost, it was the money of other 
 people. And till it is paid back how can I alter this? " 
 
 Swanhild's eyes grew large and bright. 
 
 " It was that, then, that made him die," she faltered. 
 " He would be so sorry for the other people. Oh, Sigrid, 
 I will be so good ; I don't think I shall ever be naughty 
 again. Why didn't you tell me before, and then I shouldn't 
 have been cross because you wouldn't buy me things ? " 
 
 " I wanted to shield you and keep you from knowing," 
 said Sigrid. " But after all, it is better that you should 
 hear it from me than from some outsider." 
 
 " You will treat me like a baby, Sigrid, and I'm ten 
 years old after all quite old enough to be told things . . . 
 And oh, you'll let me help to earn money and pay back 
 the people, won't you ? " 
 
 lt That is what Frithiof is trying to do," said Sigrid, " but 
 it is so difficult and so slow. And I can't think of anything 
 we can do to help." 
 
 <c Poor dear old Frithiof," said Swanhild. And she gazed 
 away over the frozen lake to the snow mountains which 
 bounded the view, as if she would like to see right through 
 them into the big London shop where, behind a counter, 
 there stood a fair-haired Norseman toiling bravely to pay 
 off those debts of which she had just heard. " Why, on 
 father's last two birthdays Frithiof was away in Germany, 
 but then we were looking forward so to having him home 
 again. There's nothing to look forward to now." 
 
 Sigrid could not reply, for she felt choked. She stood 
 sadly watching the child as she bent down, partly to hide 
 her tears, partly to replace a flower which had slipped out 
 of one of the wreaths. It was just that sense of having 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 157 
 
 nothing to look forward to which had weighed so heavily 
 on Sigrid herself all these months ; she had passed very 
 bravely through all the troubles as long as there had been 
 anything to do ; but now that all the arrangements were 
 made, the villa in Kalvedalen sold, the furniture disposed 
 of, the new home in her uncle's house grown familiar, her 
 courage almost failed her, and each day she realised more 
 "bitterly how desolate and forlorn was their position. The 
 first sympathetic kindness of her aunt and cousins had, 
 moreover, had time to fade a little, and she became grow- 
 ingly conscious that their adoption into the Gronvold 
 family was an inconvenience. The house was comfortable 
 but not too large, and the two sisters occupied the only 
 spare room, so that it was no longer possible to have 
 visitors. The income was fairly good, but times were hard, 
 and even before their arrival Fru Gronvold had begun to 
 practice a few little economies, which increased during the 
 winter, and became more apparent to all the family. This 
 was depressing enough ; and then, as Svvanhild had said, 
 there was nothing to which she could look forward, for 
 Frithiof s prospects seemed to her altogether blighted, and 
 she foresaw that all he was likely to earn for some time to 
 come would only suffice to keep himself, and could by no 
 possibility support three people. Very sadly she left the 
 cemetery, pausing again to struggle with the stiff gate, 
 while Swanhild held the empty flower-baskets. 
 
 "Can't you do it?" exclaimed the child. "What a 
 tiresome gate it is ! worse to fasten than to unfasten. But 
 see ! here come the Lundgrens. They will help." 
 
 Sigrid glanced round, blushing vividly as she met the 
 eager eyes of Torvald Lundgren, one of Frithiof s school 
 friends. The greetings were frank and friendly on both 
 sides, and Madale, a tall pretty girl of sixteen, with her 
 hair braided into one long, thick plait, took little Swan- 
 hild's arm and walked on with her. 
 
 " Let us leave those 'two to settle the gate between 
 
158 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 them," she said, smiling. " It is far too cold to wait for 
 them." 
 
 Now Torvald Lundgren was a year or two older than 
 Frithiof, and having long been in a position of authority he 
 was unusually old for his age. As a friend Sigrid liked 
 him, but of late she had half feared that he wished to be 
 more than a friend, and consequently she was not well 
 pleased to see that, by the time the gate was actually shut, 
 Madale and Swanhild were far in advance of them. 
 
 " Have you heard from Frithiof yet ? " she asked, walking 
 on briskly. 
 
 " No," said Torvald. " Pray scold him well for me when 
 you next write. How does he seem ? In better spirits 
 again ? " 
 
 " I don't know," said Sigrid ; " even to me he writes very 
 seldom. It is wretched having him so far away and not 
 knowing what is happening to him." 
 
 " I wish there was anything I could do for him," said 
 Torvald ; " but there seems no chance of any opening out 
 here for him." 
 
 " That is what my uncle says. Yet it was no fault of 
 Frithiof s ; it seems hard that he should have to suffer. I 
 think the world is very cruel. You and Madale were 
 almost the only friends who stood by us ; you were almost 
 the only ones who scattered fir branches in the road on 
 the morning of my father's funeral." 
 
 " You noticed that? " he said colouring. 
 
 " Yes ; when I saw how little had been strewn I felt hurt 
 and sore to think that the others had shown so little 
 respect for him, and grateful to you and Madale." 
 
 " Sigrid," he said quietly, " why will you not let me be 
 something more to you than a friend ? All that I have is 
 yours. You are not happy in Herr Gronvold's house. 
 Let me take care of you. Come and make my house 
 happy, and bring Swanhild with you to be my little 
 sister." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 159 
 
 " Oh, Torvald ! " she cried, " I wish you had not asked 
 me that. You are so good and kind, but but " 
 
 " Do not answer me just yet, then : take time to think 
 it over," he pleaded; "indeed I would do my best to 
 make you very happy." 
 
 " I know you would," she replied, her eyes filling with 
 tears. ' But yet it could never be. I could never love 
 you as a wife should love her husband, and I am much too 
 fond of you, Torvald, to let you be married just for your 
 comfortable house." 
 
 " Your aunt led me .to expect that, perhaps, in time after 
 your first grief had passed " 
 
 " Then it was very wrong of her," said Sigrid, hotly. 
 "You have always been my friend a sort of second 
 brother to me and oh, do let it be so still. Don't leave 
 off being my friend because of this, for indeed I cannot 
 help it." 
 
 " My only wish is to help you," he said, sadly ; (( it 
 shall be as you would have it." 
 
 And then they walked on together in an uncomfortable 
 silence until they overtook the others at Herr Gronvold's 
 gate where Torvald grasped her hand for a moment, then 
 looking at his watch, hurried Madale away, saying that he 
 should be late for some appointment. 
 
 Fru Gronvold had unluckily been looking out of the 
 window and had seen the little group outside. She opened 
 the front door as the two girls climbed the steps. 
 
 " Why did not the Lundgrens come in ? " she asked, a 
 look of annoyance passing over her thin, worn face. 
 
 " I didn't ask them," said Sigrid, blushing. 
 
 " And I think Torvald had some engagement," said 
 Swanhild, unconsciously coming to the rescue. 
 
 " You have been out a long time, Swanhild ; now run 
 away to your practising," said Fru Gronvold, in the tone 
 which the child detested. " Come in here, Sigrid, I want 
 a word with you." 
 
160 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 Fru Gronvold had the best of hearts, but her manner 
 was unfortunate ; from sheer anxiety to do well by people 
 she often repulsed them. To Sigrid, accustomed from her 
 earliest girlhood to come and go as she pleased and to 
 manage her father's house, this manner was almost intoler- 
 able. She resented interference most strongly, and was 
 far too young and inexperienced to see, beneath her aunt's 
 dictatorial tone, the real kindness that existed. Her blue 
 eyes looked defiant as she marched into the sitting-room, 
 and drawing off her gloves began to warm her hands by the 
 stove. 
 
 " Why did you not ask Torvald Lundgren to come in ? " 
 asked Fru Gronvold, taking up her knitting. 
 
 "Because I didn't want to ask him, auntie." 
 
 " But you ought to think what other people want, not 
 always of yourself." 
 
 " I did," said Sigrid, quickly. " I knew he didn't want 
 to come in." 
 
 " What nonsense you talk, child ! " said Fru Gronvold, 
 knitting with more vigour than before, as if she vented her 
 impatience upon the sock she was making. " You must 
 know quite well that Torvald admires you very much ; it 
 is mere affectation to pretend not to see what is patent 
 to all the world." 
 
 " I do not pretend," said Sigrid, angrily, " but you 
 you have encouraged him to hope, and it is unfair and 
 unkind of you. He told me you had spoken to him." 
 
 " What ! he has proposed to you ? " said Fru Gronvold, 
 dropping her work. "Did he speak to you to-day, 
 dear?" 
 
 "Yes," said Sigrid, blushing crimson. 
 
 " And you said you would let him have his answer later 
 on. I see, dear, I see. Of course you could not ask him 
 in." 
 
 " I said nothing of the sort." said Sigrid, vehemently. 
 "I told him that I could never think of marrying him, and 
 we shall still be the good friends we have always been.'' 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 161 
 
 " My dear child," cried Fru Gronvold, with genuine 
 distress in her tone, " how could you be so foolish, so 
 blind to all your own interests ? He is a most excellent 
 fellow, good and steady and rich all that heart could 
 wish." 
 
 " There I don't agree with you," said Sigrid, perversely. 
 " I should wish my husband to be very different. He 
 is just like Torvald in Ibsen's ' Ett Dukkehjem ; ' we always 
 told him so." 
 
 " Pray don't quote that hateful play to me," said Fru 
 Gronvold. " Every one knows that Ibsen's foolish ideas 
 about women being equal to men and sharing their con- 
 fidence could only bring misery and mischief. Torvald 
 Lundgren is a good, upright, honourable man, and your 
 refusing him is most foolish." 
 
 " He is very good, I quite admit," said Sigrid. " He 
 is my friend, and has been always, and will be always. But 
 if he were the only man on earth nothing would induce me 
 to marry him. It would only mean wretchedness for us 
 both." 
 
 " Well, pray don't put your foolish notions about equal- 
 ity and ideal love into Karen's head," said Fru Gronvold 
 sharply. " Since you are so stupid and unpractical it will 
 be well that Karen should accept the first good offer she 
 receives." 
 
 " We are not likely to discuss the matter," said Sigrid, 
 and rising to her feet she hurriedly left the room. 
 
 Upstairs she ran, choking with angry tears, her aunt's 
 last words haunting her persistently, and inflicting deeper 
 wounds the more she dwelt upon them. 
 
 " She wants me to marry him so that she may be rid of 
 the expense of keeping us," thought the poor girl. "She 
 doesn't really care for us a bit, for all the time she is 
 grudging the money we cost her. But I won't be such a 
 bad friend to poor Torvald as to marry him because I am 
 miserable here. I would rather starve than do that. Oh ! 
 
 6 
 
1 62 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 how I hate her maxims about taking what you can get 1 
 Why should love and equality and a true union lead to 
 misery and mischief? It is the injustice of lowering 
 woman into a mere pleasant house-keeper that brings half 
 the pain of the world, it seems to me." 
 
 But by the time Sigrid had lived through the long even- 
 ing, bearing, as best she might, the consciousness of her 
 aunt's disappointment and vexation with her, another 
 thought had begun to stir in her heart. And when that 
 night she went to her room her tears were no longer the 
 tears of anger, but of a miserable loneliness and desola- 
 tion. 
 
 She looked at little Swanhild lying fast asleep, and 
 wondered how the refusal would affect her life. 
 
 " After all," she thought to herself, " Swanhild would 
 have been happier had I accepted him. She would have 
 had a much nicer home ; and Torvald would never have let 
 her feel that she was a burden. He would have been very 
 kind to us both, and I suppose I might have made him 
 happy as happy as he would ever have expected to be. 
 And I might have been able to help Frithiof, for we 
 should have been rich. Perhaps I am losing this chance 
 of what would be best for every one else just for a fancy. 
 Oh, what am I to do ? After all, he would have been 
 very kind, and here they are not really kind. He would 
 have taken such care of me, and it would surely be very 
 nice to be taken care of again." 
 
 And then she began to think of her aunt's words, and 
 to wonder whether there might not be some truth in them, 
 so that by the time the next day had dawned she had wor- 
 ried herself into a state of confusion, and had Torvald 
 Lundgren approached her again might really have ac- 
 cepted him from some puzzle-headed notion of the duty of 
 being practical and always considering others before your- 
 self. Fortunately Torvald did not appear, and later in the 
 morning she took her pejplexities to dear old Fru Aske- 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 163 
 
 void, the pastor's wife, who having worked early and late 
 for her ten children, now toiled for as many grandchildren, 
 and into the bargain was ready to be the friend of any 
 girl who chose to seek her out. In spite of her sixty 
 years she had a bright fresh coloured face, with a look of 
 youth about it which contrasted curiously with her snowy 
 hair. She was little and plump, had had a brisk, cheerful 
 way of moving about which somehow recalled to one 
 
 The^bird that comes about our doors 
 When autumn winds are sobbing, 
 
 The Peter of Norway boors, 
 
 Their Thomas in Finland, 
 
 And Russia far inland, 
 The bird, who by some name or other, 
 All men who know it call it their brother." 
 
 " Now that is charming of you to come and see me 
 just at the very right minute, Sigrid," said Fru Askevold, 
 kissing the girl, whose face, owing to trouble and sleep^ 
 lessness, looked more worn than her own. " I've just 
 been cutting out Ingeborg's new frock, and am wanting to 
 sit down and rest a little. What do you think of the colour ? 
 Pretty, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Charming," said Sigrid. " Let me do the tacking for 
 you." 
 
 " No, no ; you look tired, my child ; sit down there by 
 the stove, and I will tack it together as we chat. What 
 makes those dark patches beneath your eyes ? " 
 
 " Oh, it is nothing. I could not sleep last night, that is 
 all." 
 
 " Because you were worrying over something. That 
 does not pay, child ; give it up. It's a bad habit." 
 
 " I don't think I can help it," said Sigrid. " We all of 
 us have a natural tendency that way. Don't you remem- 
 ber how Frithiof never could sleep before an examina- 
 tion ? " 
 
 " And you perhaps were worrying your brain about 
 him ? Was that it ? " 
 
 " Partly," said Sigrid, looking down and speaking ner- 
 
1 64 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 vously. " You see it was in this way I had a chance of 
 becoming rich and well to do, of stepping into a position 
 which would have made me able to help the others, and 
 because it did not come up to my own notion of happi- 
 ness I threw away the chance." 
 
 And so little by little, and mentioning no name, she put 
 before the motherly old lady all the facts of the case. 
 
 " Child," said Fru Askevold, " I have only one piece of 
 advice to give you be true to your own ideal." 
 
 " But then one's own ideal may be unattainable in this 
 world." 
 
 " Perhaps, and if so it can't be helped. But if you 
 mean your marriage to be a happy one, then be true. 
 Half the unhappy marriages come from people stooping 
 to take just what they can get. If you accepted this 
 man's offer you might be wronging some girl who is really 
 capable of loving him properly." 
 
 " Then you mean that some of us have higher ideals 
 than others ? " 
 
 " Why, yes, to be sure ; it is the same in this as in every- 
 thing else, and what you have to do is just to shut your 
 ears to all the well-meaning but false maxims of the 
 world, and listen to the voice in your own heart. Depend 
 upon it you will be able to do far more for Frithiof and 
 Swanhild if you are true to yourself than you would be 
 able to do as a rich woman and an unhappy wife." 
 
 Sigrid was silent for some minutes. 
 
 " Thank you," she said at length. " I see things much 
 more clearly now ; last night I could only see things 
 through Aunt Gronvold's spectacles, and I think they 
 must be very short-sighted ones." 
 
 Fru Askevold laughed merrily. 
 
 "That is quite true," she said. " The marriages brought 
 about by scheming relatives may look promising enough 
 at first, but in the long run they always bring trouble and 
 misery. The true marriages are made in heaven, Sigrid, 
 though folks are slow to believe that." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 165 
 
 Sigrid went away comforted, yet nevertheless life was 
 not very pleasant to her just then, for although she 
 had the satisfaction of seeing Torvald walking the 
 streets of Bergen without any signs of great dejection in 
 his face, she had all day long to endure the consciousness 
 of her aunt's vexation, and to feel in every little economy 
 that this need not have been practised had. she decided as 
 Fru Gronvold wished. It was on the whole a very 
 dreary Christmas, yet the sadness was brightened by one 
 little act of kindness and courtesy which to the end of her 
 life she never forgot. For after all it is that which is rare 
 that makes a deep impression on us. The word of praise 
 spoken at the beginning of our career lingers for ever in 
 our hearts with something of the glow of encouragement 
 and hopefulness which it first kindled there ; while the ap- 
 plause of later years glides off us like water off a duck's 
 back. The little bit of kindness shown in days of trouble 
 is remembered when greater kindness during days of pros- 
 perity has been forgotten. 
 
 It was Christmas-eve. Sigrid sat in her cold bedroom, 
 wrapped round in an eider-down quilt. She was reading 
 over again the letter she had last received from Frithiof 
 just one of those short unsatisfying letters which of late he 
 had sent her. From Germany he had written amusingly 
 enough, but these London letters often left her more 
 unhappy than they found her, not so much from anything 
 they said as from what they left unsaid. Since last Christ- 
 mas all had been taken away from her, and now it seemed 
 to her that even Frithiofs love was growing cold, and 
 her tears fell fast on the thin little sheet of paper where 
 she had tried so hard to read love and hope between 
 the lines, and had tried in vain. 
 
 A knock at the door made her dry her eyes hastily, and 
 she was relieved to find that it was not her cousin Karen 
 who entered, but Swanhild, with a sunny face and blue 
 eyes dancing with excitement. 
 
166 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " Look, Sigrid," she cried, here is a parcel which looks 
 exactly like a present. Do make haste and open it." 
 
 They cut the string and folded back the paper, Sigrid 
 giving a little cry of surprise as she saw before her the 
 water-colour sketch of Bergen, which had been her father's 
 last present to her on the day before his death. Unable 
 to pay for it, she had asked the proprietor of the shop to 
 take it back again, and had been relieved by his ready 
 consent. Glancing quickly at the accompanying note, she 
 saw that it bore his signature. It ran as follows : 
 
 " MADAME, Will you do me the honour of accepting the 
 water-colour sketch of Bergen chosen by the late Herr 
 Falck in October. At your wish I took back the picture 
 then, and regarded the purchase as though it had never been 
 made. I now ask you to receive it as a Christmas-gift, 
 and a slight token of my respect for the memory of your 
 father," etc., etc. 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Sigrid, " isn't that good of him ! And 
 how nice of him to wait for Christmas instead of sending 
 it straight back. Now I shall have something to send to 
 Frithiof. It will get to him in time for the new year." 
 
 Swanhild clapped her hands. 
 
 " What a splendid idea ! I had not thought of that. 
 And we shall have it up here just for Christmas-day. How 
 pretty it is ! People are very kind, I think ! " 
 
 And Sigrid felt the little clinging arm round her waist, 
 and as they looked at the picture together she smoothed 
 back the child's golden hair tenderly. 
 
 " Yes," she said, smiling, " after all, people are very 
 kind." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 167 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 As Presten Askevold had feared, Frithiof bore the 
 troubles much less easily. He was without Sigrid's sweet- 
 ness of nature, without her patience, and the little touch of 
 philosophic matter-of-factness which helped her to endure. 
 He was far more sensitive too, and was terribly handi- 
 capped by the bitterness which was the almost inevitable 
 result of his treatment by Blanche Morgan, a, bitterness 
 which stirred him up into a sort of contemptuous hatred of 
 both God and man. Sigrid, with her quiet common sense, 
 her rarely expressed but very real faith, struggled on through 
 the winter and the spring, and in the process managed to 
 grow and develop ; but Frithiof, in his desolate London 
 lodgings, with his sore heart and rebellious intellect, grew 
 daily more hard and morose. Had it not been for the 
 Bonifaces he must have gone altogether to the bad, but 
 the days which he spent every now and then in that quiet, 
 simple household, where kindness reigned supreme, saved 
 him from utter ruin. For always through the darkest part 
 of every life there runs, though we may sometimes fail to 
 see it, this " golden thread of love," so that even the worst 
 man on earth is not wholly cut off from God, since He 
 will, by some means or other, eternally try to draw him 
 out of death into life. We are astounded now and then to 
 read that some cold-blooded murderer, some man guilty 
 of a hideous crime, will ask in his last moments to see a 
 child who loved him devotedly, and whom he also loved. 
 We are astonished just because we do not understand the 
 untiring heart of the All-Father who in His goodness often 
 gives to the vilest sinner the love of a pure-hearted woman 
 or child. So true is the beautiful old Latin saying, long 
 
icS A //.-/AW A tM 
 
 in the world but little believed, Mergcrc nos 
 
 se4 *<>* snbmtrtpre y CArtstus " (Christ lets us sink, may be, 
 
 but not drown). 
 
 Just at this time there was only one thing in which 
 Frithiof found any satisfaction, and that was in the little 
 store of money which by slow degrees he was able to place in 
 the savings bank. In what way it could ever grow into a 
 sum large enough to pay his father's creditors he did not 
 trouble himself to think, but week by week it did increase, 
 and with this one aim in life he struggled on. working 
 early and late, and living on an amount of food which 
 would have horrified an Englishman. Luckily he had 
 discovered a place in Oxford street where he could get a 
 good dinner every day fbr sixpence, but this was practically 
 his only meal, and after some months the scanty fare K 
 to tell upon him, so that even the Miss Tumours noticed 
 that something was wrong. 
 
 " That young man looks to me underfed," said Miss 
 Caroline one day. %4 1 met him on the stairs just now, and 
 he seems to me to have grown paler and thinner. What 
 does he have for breakfast Charlotte ? Does he eat as 
 well as the other lodger ? " ~ 
 
 " Dear me, no," said Miss Charlotte. " It's my belief 
 that he eats nothing at all but ship's biscuits. There's a 
 tin of them up in his room, and a tin of cocoa, which he 
 makes for himself. All I ever take him is a jug of boiling 
 water night and morning ! " 
 
 " Poor fellow ! " said Miss Caroline, sighing a little as 
 she plaited some lace which must have been washed a 
 hundred times into her dress, 
 
 A delicate carefulness in these little details of dress dis- 
 tinguished the three ladies they had inherited it with the 
 spelling of their name and other tokens of good breeding. 
 
 " I feel sorry for him," she added. " He always bows 
 very politely when I meet him, and he is remarkably good- 
 looking, though with a disagreeable expression." 
 
A .' ifiT, 
 
 " When one is hungry one seldom looks agreea', 
 
 Charlotte. " I wish I had noticed him before.* and 
 she remembered, with a little pang of remorse, that she had 
 more than once preached to him about his soul, while all 
 the time she had Ireamy and unobservant to sec 
 
 what was really wrong with him. 
 
 " Suppose," she said, timidly, " suppose I were to take 
 him a little of the stewed American beef we shall have for 
 supper." 
 
 -end it up by the girl," said Miss Tumour, " she is still 
 in the kitchen. Don't take it yourself it would be awk- 
 ward for both of you." 
 
 So Miss Charlotte meekly obeyed, and sent up by the 
 shabby servant-girl a most savoury little supper. Unluckily 
 the girl was a pert cockney, and her loud abrupt knock at 
 the door in itself irritated Frithiof. 
 
 " Come in," he said, in a surly tone. 
 
 " Look here," said the girl, " here's something to put 
 you in a better temper. Missus's compliments, and she 
 begs you'll accept it," and thrust the tray at him with a 
 derisive grin. 
 
 " Have the goodness to take that down again," said 
 Frithiof, in a fit of unreasoning anger. " 111 not be 
 treated like your mistress' pet dog." 
 
 Something in his manner cowed the girl. She beat a 
 hasty retreat, and was planning how she could manage to 
 eat the despised supper herself, when at the foot of the 
 stairs she met Miss Charlotte, and her project was nipped 
 in the bud. 
 
 " It ain't no use, miss, 'e won't touch it," she explained ; 
 *e was as angry as could be, and says 'e, ' Take it away. 
 I'll not be treated like your mistress* pet dog/ says 'e. So, 
 bein' frightened, I ran down-stairs agen." 
 
 Miss Charlotte looked troubled, and later on, when as 
 usual she took up the jug of hot water, she felt nervous 
 and uncomfortable, and her knock was more timid than 
 
170 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 ever. However, she had scarcely set down the jug on the 
 floor when there came sounds of hasty footsteps in the 
 room, and Frithiof flung open the door. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said. " You meant to be kind, 
 I'm sure, but the girl was rude, and I lost my temper. I 
 ask your forgiveness." 
 
 There were both pathetic and comic elements in the 
 little scene ; the meek Miss Charlotte stood trembling as 
 if she had seen a ghost, and gazing up at the tall Norse- 
 man who, in the hurry of the moment, had forgotten to 
 remove the wet towel which, in common with most night- 
 workers, he was in the habit of tying round his forehead. 
 
 Miss Charlotte stooped to pick up the jug. 
 
 " I am so sorry the girl was rude," she said. " 1 wish I 
 had brought it myself. You see, it was in this way ; we all 
 thought you looking so poorly, and we were having the 
 beef for supper, and we thought perhaps you might fancy 
 some, and and " 
 
 " It was very good of you," he said, touched, in spite of 
 himself, by the kindness. " I regret what I said, but you 
 must make allowance for a bad-tempered man with a split- 
 ting headache." 
 
 " Is that the reason you tie it up ? " asked Miss Char- 
 lotte. 
 
 He laughed and pulled off the towel, passing his hand 
 over the mass of thick light hair which it had disordered. 
 
 " It keeps it cooler," he said, " and I can get through 
 more work." 
 
 She glanced at the table, and saw that it was covered 
 with papers and books. 
 
 " Are you wise to do so much work after being busy all 
 day ? " she said. " It seems to me that you are not look- 
 ing well." 
 
 " It is nothing but headache," he said. " And the work 
 is the only pleasure I have in the world." 
 
 " I was afraid from your looks that you had a hard life," 
 she said, hesitatingly. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 171 
 
 " It is not hard outwardly. As far as work goes it is 
 easy enough, but there is a deadly monotony about it." 
 
 " Ah ! if only " she began. 
 
 He interrupted her. 
 
 " I know quite well what you are going to say you are 
 going to recommend me to attend one of those religious 
 meetings, where people get so full of delightful excitement. 
 Believe me, they would not have the slightest effect on me. 
 And yet, if you wish it, I will go. It shall be my sign of 
 penitence for my rudeness just now." 
 
 Miss Charlotte could not make out whether his smile 
 was sarcastic or genuine. However, she took him at his 
 word, and the next evening carried him off to a big ) 
 brightly lighted hall to a revivalist meeting, from which 
 she hoped great things. 
 
 It was a hot June evening. He came there tired with 
 the long day's work, and his head felt dull and heavy. 
 Merely out of politeness to his companion he tried to take 
 some sort of interest in what went on, stifled his inclina- 
 tion to laugh now and then, and watched the proceedings 
 attentively, though wearily enough. In front of him rose 
 a large platform with tiers of seats one above the other. 
 The men and women seated there had bright-looking faces. 
 Some looked self-conscious and self-satisfied, several of the 
 women seemed overwrought and hysterical, but others had 
 a genuine look of content which impressed him. Down 
 below was a curiously heterogeneous collection of instru- 
 ments cornets, drums, tambourines, trumpets, and pipes. 
 A hymn was given out, followed by a chorus ; the words 
 were solemn, but the tune was the reverse ; still it seemed 
 to please the audience, who sung three choruses to each 
 verse, the first loud, the second louder, the third a perfect 
 frenzy of sound, the drums thundering, the tambourines 
 dashing about wildly, the pipes and cornets at their shril- 
 lest, and every one present singing or shouting with all his 
 might. It took him some time to recover from the appal- 
 
172 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 ling noise, and meantime a woman was praying. He did 
 not much attend to what she said, but the audience seemed 
 to agree with her, for every minute or two there was a 
 chorus of fervent " Amens," which rolled through the hall 
 like distant thunder. After that the young man who con- 
 ducted the meeting read a story out of the Bible, and 
 spoke well and with a sort of simple directness. There 
 was very little in what he said, but he meant every word 
 of it. It might have been summed up in three sentences : 
 " There is only one way of being happy. I have tried it 
 and have found it answer. All you who haven't tried it 
 begin at once." 
 
 But the words which meant much to him conveyed 
 nothing to Frithiof. He listened, and wondered how a 
 man of his own age could possibly get up and say such 
 things. What was it he had found ? How had he found 
 it? If the speaker had shown the least sign of vanity his 
 words would have been utterly powerless ; but his quiet 
 positiveness impressed people, and it was apparent to 
 every one that he believed in a strength which was not his 
 own. There followed much that seemed to Frithiof mono- 
 tonous and undesirable ; about thirty people on the plat- 
 form, one after another, got up and spoke a few words; 
 which invariably began with " I thank the Lord I was 
 saved on such and such a night." He wondered and won- 
 dered what the phrase meant to them, and revolved in his 
 mind all the theological dogmas he had ever heard of. 
 Suddenly he was startled to find that some one was 
 addressing him, a hymn was being sung, and there was a 
 good deal of movementin the hall ; people went and camet 
 and an elderly woman had stepped forward and taken a 
 place beside him. 
 
 lt Brother," she said to him, " are you saved ? " 
 
 " Madame," he replied, coldly, " I have not the slightest 
 idea." 
 
 " Qh ? then," she said, with a little gesture that reminded 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 173 
 
 him of Miss Charlotte, " let me beg you to come at once 
 to Christ." 
 
 " Madame," he said, still in his coldly polite voice, 
 " you must really excuse me, but I do not know what you 
 mean." 
 
 She was so much surprised and puzzled by both words 
 and manner that she hesitated what to reply ; and Frithiof, 
 who hated being questioned, took his hat from the bench, 
 and bowing formally to her, left the hall. In the street he 
 was joined by Miss Charlotte. 
 
 " Oh ! " she exclaimed, " I am so sorry you said that. 
 You will have made that poor woman so terribly unhappy." 
 
 " It is all her own fault," said Frithiof. " Why did she 
 come meddling with my private affairs ? If her belief was 
 real she would have been able to explain it in a rational 
 way, instead of usingphrases which are just empty words." 
 
 " You didn't leave her time to explain. And as to her 
 belief being real, do you think, if it were not real, that little, 
 frail woman would have had courage to go twice to prison 
 for speaking in the streets ? Do you think she would have 
 been able to convert the most abandoned thieves, and 
 induce them to make restitution, paying in week by week 
 what they could earn to replace what they had stolen ? " 
 
 "Does she do that? Then I respect her. When you 
 see her again please apologise for my abruptness, and tell 
 her that her form of religion is too noisy for my h^ad and 
 too illogical for my mind." 
 
 They walked home in silence, Miss Charlotte grieving 
 over the hopeless failure of the meeting to achieve what 
 she desired. She had not yet learned that different natures 
 need different kinds of food, and that to expect Frithiof to 
 swallow the teaching which exactly suited certain minds 
 was about as sensible as to feed a baby with Thorley's 
 Food for Cattle. However, there never yet was an honest 
 attempt to do good which really failed, though the vast 
 majority fail apparently. It was impossible that the revi- 
 
174 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 valists' teaching could ever be accepted by the Norseman ; 
 but their ardent devotion, their practical, aggressive lives, 
 impressed him not a little, and threw a somewhat disagree- 
 able light over his own selfishness. Partly owing to this, 
 partly from physical causes, he felt bitterly out of heart 
 with himself for the next few weeks. In truth, he was 
 thoroughly out of health, and he had not the only power 
 which can hold irritability in check the strong restraint 
 of love. Except a genuine liking for the Bonifaces, he had 
 nothing to take him out of himself, and he was quite ready 
 to return with interest the dislike which the other men in 
 the shop felt for him, first on account of his foreign birth, 
 but chiefly because of his proud manner and hasty temper. 
 Sometimes he felt that he could bear the life no longer ; 
 and at times, out of his very wretchedness, there sprung up 
 in him a vague pity for those who were in his own position. 
 As he stood there behind the counter he would say to him- 
 self, " There are thousands and thousands in this city alone 
 who have day after day to endure this horrible monotony, 
 to serve the customers who are rude, and the customers 
 who are civil, the hurried ones who are all impatience, the 
 tiresome ones who dawdle, the bores, who give you as much 
 trouble as they can, often for nothing. One day follows 
 another eternally in the same dull round. I am a hundred 
 times better off than most there are no hurried meals here, 
 no fines, no unfairness and yet what drudgery it is ! " 
 
 And as he glanced out at the sunny street and heard the 
 sound of horses' hoofs in the road, a wild longing used to 
 seize him for the freedom and variety of his life in Norway, 
 and the old fierce rebellion against his fate woke once more 
 in his heart, and made him ready to fly into a rage on the 
 smallest provocation. 
 
 One day he was sent for to Mr. Boniface's private room ; 
 he was quite well aware that his manner, even to Roy him- 
 self, whom he liked, had been disagreeable in the extreme, 
 and the thought crossed his mind that he was going to 
 receive notice to leave. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 175 
 
 Mr. Boniface was sitting at his writing-table, the sunlight 
 fell on his quiet, refined face, lighted up his white hair and 
 trim beard, and made his kindly grey eyes brighter than ever. 
 " I wanted a few words with you, Falck," he said. " Sit 
 down. It seems to me that you have not been looking 
 well lately, and I thought perhaps you had better take your 
 holiday at once instead of the third week in August. I 
 have spoken to Darnell, and he would be willing to give 
 you his turn and take the latter time. What do you 
 think ? " 
 
 " You are very good, sir," said Frithiof, " but I shall do 
 very well with the August holiday, and, as a matter of fact, 
 it will only mean that I shall do more translating." 
 
 " Would you not do well to go home ? Come, think 
 of it, I would give you three weeks if you want to go to 
 Bergen." 
 
 Frithiof felt a choking sensation in his throat, because it 
 was of the old life that he had been dreaming all the morn- 
 ing with a restless, miserable craving. 
 
 " Thank you," he said, with an effort, " but I cannot go 
 back to Norway." 
 
 " Now, tell me candidly, Falck, is it the question of ex- 
 pense that hinders you ? " said Mr. Boniface. " Because 
 if it is merely that, I would gladly lend you the money. 
 You must remember that you have had a great deal to bear 
 lately, and I think you ought to give yourself a good rest." 
 
 " Thank you." replied Frithiof, " but it is not exactly 
 the expense. I have money enough in hand to pay for my 
 passage, but I have made up my mind not to go back till I 
 can clear off the last of the debts of of our firm," he con- 
 cluded, with a slight quiver in his voice. 
 
 u It is a noble resolution," said Mr. Boniface, "and I 
 would not for a moment discourage you. Still you must 
 remember that it is a great undertaking, and that without 
 good health you can never hope for success. I don't think 
 you get enough exercise. Now, why don't you join our 
 cricket club ? " 
 
1 76 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " I don't play," said Frithiof. " In Norway we are not 
 great at those games, or indeed at any kind of exercise for 
 the mere sake of exercise. That is an idea that one only 
 finds among Englishmen." 
 
 " Possibly ; but living in our climate you would do well 
 to follow our habits. Come, let me persuade you to join 
 the club. You look to me'as if you needed greater variety." 
 
 " I will think about it for next year ; but just now I have 
 work for Herr Sivertsen on hand which I can't put aside," 
 said Frithiof. 
 
 " Well, then, things must go on as they are for the pre- 
 sent," said Mr. Boniface; " but at least you can bring 
 your translating down to Rowan Tree House and spend 
 your holiday with us." 
 
 " You are very kind," said Frithiof, the boyish expres- 
 sion returning to his face just for a minute. " I shall be 
 only too delighted." 
 
 And the interview seemed somehow to have done him 
 good, for during the next few days he was less irritable, and 
 found his work in consequence less irksome. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 BUT the change for the better did not last long, for Frithiof 
 was without the motive which tl makes drudgery divine." 
 And there was no denying that the work he had to do was 
 really drudgery. 
 
 It has been the fashion of late years to dwell much on 
 the misery of the slums, and most of us are quite ready to 
 be stirred into active sympathy with the abjectly poor, the 
 hungry or the destitute. It is to be feared, however, that 
 very few of us have much consideration for the less 
 romantic, less sensational lives of the middle class, the 
 thousands who toil for us day after day behind the counter 
 or at the desk. And yet are their lives one whit less worthy 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN'. 177 
 
 of sympathy ? Are they not educated to a point which 
 makes them infinitely more sensitive ? Hood has given us 
 a magnificent poem on the sorrows of a shirt-maker j but 
 who will take trouble to find poetry in the sorrows and 
 weariness of shop assistants ? It has been said that the 
 very atmosphere of trade kills romance, that no poet or 
 novelist would dare to take up such a theme ; and yet 
 everywhere the human heart is the same, and shop-life does 
 not interfere with the loves and hatreds, the joys and sor- 
 rows which make up the life of every human being, and 
 out of which are woven all the romances which were ever 
 written. No one will dispute the saying that labour is 
 worship, yet nevertheless we know well enough that while 
 some work of itself ennobles the worker, there is other work 
 which has to be ennobled by the way in which it is done. 
 An artist and a coal-heaver both toil for the general good, 
 but most people will admit that the coal-heaver is heavily 
 handicapped. If in the actual work of shop assistants there 
 is a prosaic monotony, then it is all the more probable that 
 they need our warmest sympathy, our most thoughtful con- 
 siderateness, since they themselves are no machines, but 
 men and women with exactly the same hopes and desires 
 as the rest of us. It is because we consider them of a 
 different order that we tolerate the long hours, that we 
 allow women to stand all day long to serve us, though it 
 has been proved that terrible diseases are the consequence. 
 It is because we do not in our hearts believe that they are 
 of the same flesh and blood, that we think with a sort of 
 contempt of the very people who are brought most directly 
 into contact with us, and whose hard-working lives often 
 put ours to shame. 
 
 About the middle of July the Bonifaces went down to 
 Devonshire for their usual summer holiday, and Frithiof 
 found that, as Roy had predicted, Mr. Homer made him- 
 self most disagreeable, and never lost a chance of interfer- 
 ing. It must be owned that there are few things so trying 
 
1 78 A HA RD y NORSEMAN. 
 
 as fussiness, particularly in a man of whom such weakness 
 seems unworthy. And Mr. Homer was the most fussy 
 mortal on earth. It seemed as if he called forth all that was 
 bad in Frithiof, and Frithiof also called out everything 
 that was bad in him. The breach between the two was 
 made much wider by a most trivial incident. A miserable- 
 looking dog unluckily made its way into the shop one 
 morning and disturbed Mr. Horner in his sanctum. 
 
 " What is the meaning of this ? " he exclaimed, bearing 
 down upon Frithiof. " Can you not keep stray curs off 
 the premises ? Just now too, with hydrophobia raging ! " 
 And he drove and kicked the dog to the door. 
 
 Now there is one thing which no Norseman can tolerate 
 for a moment, and that is any sort of cruelty to animals. 
 Frithiof, in his fury, did not measure his words, or speak 
 as the employed to the employer, and from that time Mr. 
 Horner's hatred of him increased tenfold. To add to all 
 this wretchedness an almost tropical heat set in, London 
 was like a huge overheated oven j every day Frithiof found 
 the routine of business less bearable, every day he was less 
 able to fight against his love for Blanche, and he rapidly 
 sunk into the state which hard-headed people flatter them- 
 selves is a mere foolish fancy that most real and trying 
 form of illness which goes by the name of depression. 
 Again and again he wrestled with the temptation that had 
 assailed him long ago in Hyde Park, and each sight of 
 James Horner, each incivility from those he had to serve, 
 made the struggle harder. 
 
 He was sitting at his desk one morning adding up a 
 column which had been twice interrupted, and which had 
 three times come to a different result, when once again the 
 swing-door was pushed open and a shadow falling across 
 his account-book warned him that the customer had come 
 to the song-counter. Annoyed and impatient, he put down 
 his pen and went forward, forcing up the sort of cold 
 politeness which he assumed now, and which differed 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 179 
 
 strangely from the bright, genial courtesy that had once 
 been part of his nature. 
 
 The customer was evidently an Italian. He was young 
 and strikingly handsome ; when he glanced at you, you 
 felt that he had looked you through and through, yet that 
 his look was not critical but kindly, it penetrated yet at 
 the same time warmed. Beside him was a bright-eyed 
 boy who looked up curiously at the Norseman, as though 
 wondering how on such a sunny day any one could wear 
 such a clouded face. 
 
 Now Frithiof was quite in the humour to dislike any 
 one, more especially a man who was young, handsome 
 well-dressed, and prosperous looking ; but some subtle 
 influence crept over him the instant he heard the Italian's 
 voice, his hard eyes softened a little, and without being 
 able to explain it he felt a strong desire to help this man 
 in finding the song which he had come to inquire about, 
 knowing only the words and the air, not the name of the 
 composer. Frithiof, who would ordinarily -have been 
 inclined to grumble at the trouble which the search involved, 
 now threw himself into it heart and soul, and was as pleased 
 as his customer when after some little time he chanced to 
 find the song. 
 
 " A thousand thanks," said the Italian, warmly. " I am 
 delighted to get hold of this ; it is for a friend who has 
 long wanted to hear it again, but who was only able to 
 write down the first part of the air." 
 
 And he compared with the printed song the little bit of 
 manuscript which he had shown to Frithiof. " Now, was 
 it only a happy fluke that made you think of Knight's 
 name ? " 
 
 " I know another of his songs, and thought this bore a 
 sort of likeness to it," said Frithiof, pleased with his success. 
 
 " You know much more of English music than I do, 
 most likely," said the Italian ; " yet surely, you, too, are a 
 foreigner." 
 
i8o A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " Yes," replied Frithiof, " I am Norwegian. I have only 
 been here for nine months, but to try and learn a little 
 about the music is the only interesting part of this work." 
 
 The stranger's sympathetic insight showed him much of 
 the weariness and discontent and Heim weh which lay 
 beneath these words. 
 
 " Ah, yes," he said, " I suppose both work and country 
 seem flat and dull after your life among the fjords and 
 mountains. I know well enough the depression of one's 
 first year in a new climate. But courage ! the worst will 
 pass. I have grown to love this England which once I 
 detested." 
 
 " It is the airlessness of London which depresses one," 
 said poor Frithiof, rolling up the song. 
 
 " Yes, it is certainly very oppressive to-day," said the 
 Italian; " I am sorry to have given you so much trouble in 
 hunting up this song for me. We may as well take it with 
 us, Gigi, as we are going home." 
 
 And then with a pleasant farewell the stranger bowed 
 and went out of the shop, leaving behind him a memory 
 which did more to prevent the blue devils from gaining the 
 mastery of Frithiof s mind than anything else could possi- 
 bly have done. When he left, however, at his usual din- 
 ner hour he was without the slightest inclination to eat, 
 and with a craving for some relief from the monotony of 
 the glaring streets he walked up to Regent's Park, hoping 
 that there perhaps he might find the fresh air for which he 
 was longing. He thought much of his unknown customer, 
 half laughing to himself now and then to think that such a 
 chance encounter should have made upon him so deep an 
 impression, should have wakened within him desires such 
 as he had never before felt for a life which should be higher, 
 nobler, more manly than his past. 
 
 " Come along, will you ? " shouted a rough voice behind 
 him. He glanced round and saw an evil-looking tramp, 
 who was speaking to a most forlorn little boy at his heels. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 181 
 
 The child seemed ready to drop, but with a look of 
 misery and fear and effort most painful to see in such a 
 young face, it hurried on, keeping up a wretched little sort 
 of trot at the heels of its father, who tramped on doggedly. 
 Frithiof was not in the habit of troubling himself much 
 about those he came across in life, his heart had been too 
 much embittered by Blanche's treatment, he had got into 
 the way now of looking on coldly and saying with, a shrug 
 of the shoulders, that it was the way of the world. But to- 
 day the magical influence of a noble life was stirring within 
 him ; a man utterly unknown to him had spoken to him a 
 few kindly words, had treated him with rare considerate- 
 ness, had somehow raised him into a purer atmosphere. 
 And so it happened that he, too, began to feel something 
 of the same divine sympathy, and to forget his own wretch- 
 edness in the suffering of the little child. Presently the 
 tramp paused outside a public-house. 
 
 "Wait for me there in the park," he said to the child, 
 giving it a push in the direction. 
 
 And the little fellow went on obediently, until, just at 
 the gate, he caught sight of a costermonger's barrow on 
 which cool green leaves and ripe red strawberries were 
 temptingly displayed. Frithiof lingered a minute to see 
 ivhat would happen, but nothing happened at all, the child 
 just stood there patiently. There was no expectation on 
 his tired little face, nothing but intense appreciation of a 
 luxury which must forever be beyond his hopes of enjoy- 
 ment. 
 
 " Have you ever tasted them ? " said Frithiof, drawing 
 nearer. 
 
 The boy shook his head shyly. 
 
 " Would you like to ? " 
 
 Still he did not speak, but a look of rapture dawned in 
 the wistful child eyes, and he gave a little spring in the air 
 which was more eloquent than words. 
 
 " Sixpennyworth," said Frithiof to the costermonger ; 
 
1.82 A HARD\ NORSEMAN. 
 
 then signing to the child to follow, he led the way into the 
 park, sat down on the nearest seat, put the basket of straw- 
 berries down beside him, and glanced at his little com- 
 panion. 
 
 " There, now, sit down by me and enjoy them," he said. 
 
 And the child needed no second bidding, but began to 
 eat with an eager delight which was pleasant to see. After 
 awhile he paused, however, and shyly pushed the basket 
 a little nearer to his benefactor. Frithiof, absorbed in his 
 own thoughts, did not notice it, but presently became con- 
 scious of a small brown hand on his sleeve, and looked 
 round. 
 
 " Eat too," said the child, pointing to the basket. 
 
 And Frithiof, to please him, smiled and took two or 
 three strawberries. 
 
 "There, the rest are for you," he said. " Do you like 
 them ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the child, emphatically : " and I like you." 
 
 "Why do you like me ? " 
 
 " I was tired, and you was kind to me, and these is real 
 jammy ! " 
 
 But after this fervent little speech, he said no more. He 
 did not, as a Norwegian child would have done, shake 
 hands as a sign of gratitude, or say in the pretty Norse 
 way, " Takfor maden " (thanks for the meal) ; there had 
 never been any one to teach him the expression of the 
 courtesies of life, and with him they were not innate. He 
 merely looked at his friend with shining eyes like some 
 animal that feels but cannot speak its gratitude. Then 
 before long the father reappeared, and the little fellow with 
 one shy nod of the head ran off, looking back wistfully 
 every now and then at the stranger who would be remem^ 
 bered by him to the very end of his life. 
 
 The next day something happened which added the last 
 drops to Frithiofs cup of misery, and made it overflow. 
 The troubles of the past year, and the loneliness and pov^ 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 183 
 
 erty which he had borne, had gradually broken down his 
 health, and there came to him now a revelation which 
 proved the final blow. He was dining at his usual restau- 
 rant. Too tired to eat much, he had taken up a bit of one 
 of the society papers which some one had left there, and 
 his eye fell on one of those detestable paragraphs which 
 pander to the very lowest tastes of the public. No actual 
 name was given, but every one knowing anything about 
 her could not fail to see that Blanche Romiaux was the 
 woman referred to. The most revolting insinuations, the 
 most contemptible gossip, ended with the words, "An 
 interesting divorce case may soon be expected." 
 
 Frithiof grew deathly white. He tried to believe that it 
 was all a lie, tried to work himself up into a rage against 
 the editor of the paper, tried to assure himself that what- 
 ever Blanche might have been before marriage, that after 
 it she must necessarily become all that was womanly and 
 pure. But deep down in his heart there lurked a fearful 
 conviction that in the main this story was true. Feeling 
 sick and giddy, he made his way along Oxford Street, 
 noticing nothing, walking like a man in a dream. Just in 
 front of Buzzard's a Victoria was waiting, and a remarkably 
 good-looking man stood on the pavement talking to its 
 occupant. Frithiof would have passed by without observ- 
 ing them had not a familiar voice startled him into 
 keen consciousness. He looked up hastily and saw Lady 
 Romiaux not the Blanche who had won his heart in 
 Norway, for the lips that had once been pressed to his wore 
 a hard look of defiance, and the eyes that had ensnared him 
 had now an expression that confirmed only too well the 
 story he had just read. He heard her give a little artificial 
 laugh in which there was not even the ghost of merriment, 
 and after that it seemed as if a great cloud had descended 
 on him. He moved on mechanically, but it was chiefly by 
 a sort of instinct that he found his way back to the shop. 
 
 " Good heavens, Mr, Falck ! . how ill you are looking ! " 
 
1 84 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 exclaimed the head man as he glanced at him. " It's a 
 good thing Mr. Roy will be back again soon. If I'm not 
 very much mistaken, he'll put you into the doctor's hands." 
 
 " Oh, it is chiefly this hot weather," said Frithiof, and as 
 if anxious to put an end to the conversation, he turned 
 away to his desk and began to write, though each word 
 cost him a painful effort, and seemed to be dragged out of 
 him by sheer force. At tea-time he wandered out in the 
 street, scarcely knowing what he was doing, and haunted 
 always by Blanche's sadly altered face. When he returned 
 he found that the boy who dusted the shop had spilled 
 some ink over his order book, whereupon he flew into one 
 of those violent passions to which of late he had been 
 liable, so entirely losing his self-control that those about 
 him began to look alarmed. This recalled him to himself, 
 and much disgusted at having made such a scene, he sunk 
 into a state of black depression. He could not understand 
 himself; could not make out what was wrong ; could not 
 conceive how such a trifle could have stirred him into such 
 senseless rage. He sat, pen in hand, too sick and miser- 
 able to work, and with a wild confusion of thoughts rushing 
 through his brain. He was driving along the Strandgaden 
 with Blanche, and talking gayly of the intense enjoyment 
 of mere existence ; he was rowing her on the fjord, and 
 telling her the Frithiof Saga ; he was saving her on the 
 mountain, and listening to her words of love ; he was down 
 in the sheltered nook below the flag-staff at Balholm, and 
 she was clinging to him in the farewell which had indeed 
 been forever. 
 
 " I can bear it no longer" he said to himself. " I have 
 tried to bear this life, but it's no use no use." 
 
 Yet after awhile there rose within him a thought which 
 checked the haunting visions of failure and the longing for 
 death. He remembered the face which had so greatly 
 struck him the day before, and again those kindly words 
 rang in his ear, " Courage ! the worst will pass." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 185 
 
 Who was this man ? What gave him his extraordinary 
 influence ! How had he gained his insight, and sympathy, 
 and fearless brightness? If one man had attained to all 
 this, why not any man ? Might not life still hold for him 
 something that was worth having ? There floated back to 
 him the remembrance of the last pleasurable moment he 
 had known it was the sight of the child's enjoyment of the 
 strawberries. 
 
 At length closing-time came. He dragged himself back 
 to Vauxhall, shut himself into his dreary little room, 
 pulled the table toward the open window, and began to 
 work at Herr Sivertsen's translating. Night after night he 
 had gone on, with the dogged courage of his old Viking 
 ancestors, upheld by the same fierce, fighting nature which 
 had made them the terror of the North. But at last he 
 was at the very end of his strength. A violent shivering 
 fit seized him. Work was no longer possible ; he could 
 only stagger to the bed, with that terrible consciousness of 
 being utterly and hopelessly beaten, which to a man is so 
 hard to bear. 
 
 Oppressed by a frightful sense of loneliness, dazed by 
 physical pain, and tortured by the thought of Blanche's 
 disgrace, there was yet one thing which gave him moments 
 of relief like a child he strained his eyes to seethe picture 
 of Bergen which hung by the bedside. 
 
 Later on, when the summer twilight deepened into night, 
 and he could no longer make out the harbour, and the 
 shipping, and the familiar mountains, he buried his face in 
 the pillow and sobbed aloud, in a forlorn misery which, 
 even in Paradise, must have wrung his mother's heart. 
 
 Roy Boniface came back from Devonshire the following 
 day, his holiday being shortened by a week on account of 
 the illness of Mrs. Homer's uncle. As there was every 
 reason to expect a legacy from this aged relative, Mr. 
 Homer insisted on going down at once to see whether 
 they could be of any use ; and since the shop was never 
 
186 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 left without one of the partners, poor Roy, anathematising 
 the whole race of the Homers, had to come back and 
 endure as best he might a London August and an empty 
 house. 
 
 Like many other business men, he relieved the monotony 
 of his daily work by always keeping two or three hobbies 
 in hand. The mania for collecting had always been 
 encouraged at Rowan Tree House, and just now botany 
 was his keenest delight. It was even perhaps absorbing 
 too much of his time, and Cecil used laughingly to tell him 
 that he loved it more than all the men and women in the 
 world put together. He was contentedly mounting speci- 
 mens on the night of his return, when James Horner 
 looked in, the prospective legacy making him more than 
 ever fussy and pompous. 
 
 11 Ah, so you have come back ; that's all right ! " he 
 exclaimed. " I had hoped you would have come round to 
 us. However, no matter, I don't know that there is any- 
 thing special to say, and of course this sad news has upset 
 my wife very much." 
 
 " Ah," said Roy, somewhat skeptical in his heart of 
 hearts about the depth of her grief. " We were sorry to 
 hear about it." 
 
 " We go down the first thing to-morrow," said James 
 Horner, " and shall, of course, stay on. They say there is 
 no hope of recovery." 
 
 " What do you think of that? " said Roy, pointing to a 
 very minute flower which he had just mounted. " It is the 
 first time it has ever been found in England." 
 
 " H'm, is it really?" said James Horner, regarding it 
 with that would-be interested air, that bored perplexity, 
 which Roy took a wicked delight in calling forth. tf Well, 
 you know, I don't understand," he added, " how a practical 
 man like you can take an interest in such trumpery bits of 
 things. What are your flowers worth when you've done 
 them ? Now, if you took to collecting autography there'd 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 187 
 
 be seme sense in that, for I understand that a fine collec- 
 tion of autographs fetches a good round sum in the 
 market." 
 
 " That would only involve more desk-work," said Roy, 
 laughing. "Writing to ask for them would bore me as 
 much as writing in reply must bore the poor celebrities." 
 
 " By the bye," said Mr. Horner, " I have just remem- 
 bered to tell you that provoking fellow, Falck, never 
 turned up to-day. He never even had the grace to send 
 word that he wasn't coming." 
 
 " Of course he must be ill," said Roy, looking disturbed. 
 " He is the last fellow to stay away if he could possibly 
 keep up. We all thought him looking ill before he left." 
 
 " I don't know about illness," said James Horner, putting 
 on his hat ; "but he certainly has the worst temper I've 
 ever come across. It was extremely awkward without 
 him to day, for already we are short of hands." 
 
 " There can hardly be much doing," said Roy. " London 
 looks like a desert. However, of course I'll look up Falck. 
 I dare say he'll be all right again by to-morrow." 
 
 But he had scarcely settled himself down comfortably to 
 his work after James Horner's welcome departure when 
 the thought of Frithiof came to trouble him. After all, 
 was it likely that a mere trifle would hinder a man of the 
 Norwegian's nature from going to business ? Was it not 
 much more probable that he was too ill even to write an 
 excuse ? And if so, how helpless and desolate he would 
 be! 
 
 Like most people, Roy was selfish. Had he lived alone 
 he would have become more selfish every day ; but it was 
 impossible to live in the atmosphere of Rowan Tree 
 House without, at any rate, trying to consider other 
 people. With an effort he tore himself away from his 
 beloved specimens, and set off briskly for Vauxhall, where, 
 after some difficulty, he found the little side street in 
 which, among dozens of others precisely like it, was the 
 house of the three Miss Tumours. 
 
188 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 A little withered-up lady opened the door to him, and 
 replied nervously to his question. 
 
 " Mr. Falck is ill," she said. " He seems very feverish ; 
 but he was like it once before, when he first came to 
 England, and it passed off in a day or two." 
 
 " Can I see him ? " said Roy. 
 
 " Well, he doesn't like being disturbed at all," said Miss 
 Charlotte. <c He'll hardly let me inside the room. But if 
 you would just see him, I should really be glad. You will 
 judge better if he should see the doctor or not." 
 
 "Thank you, I'll go up then. Don't let me trouble 
 you." 
 
 " It is noise he seems to mind so much," said Miss 
 Charlotte. " So if you will find your way up alone 
 perhaps it would be best. It is the first door you come to 
 at the top of the last flight of stairs." 
 
 Roy went up quietly, opened the door as noiselessly as 
 he could, and went in. The window faced the sunset, so 
 that the room was still fairly light, and the utter discomfort 
 of everything was fully apparent. 
 
 " I wish you wouldn't come in again," said an irritable 
 voice from the bed. " The lightest footstep is torture." 
 
 " I just looked in to ask how you were," said Roy, much 
 shocked to see how ill his friend seemed. 
 
 " Oh, it's you ! " said Frithiof, turning his flushed face 
 in the direction of the speaker. " Thank God, you've 
 come ! That woman will be the death of me. She does 
 nothing but ask questions." 
 
 " I've only just got back from Devonshire, but they said 
 you hadn't turned up to-day, and I thought I would come 
 and see after you." 
 
 Frithiof dragged himself up and drank feverishly from 
 the ewer which stood on a chair beside him. 
 
 " I tried to come this morning," he said, " but I was too 
 giddy to stand, and had to give it up. My head's gone 
 wrong somehow." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 189 
 
 66 Poor fellow ! you should have given up before," said 
 Roy " You seem in terrible pain." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; it's like a band of hot iron," moaned poor 
 Frithiof. Then suddenly starting up in wild excitement, 
 " There's Blanche ! there's Blanche ! Let me go to her ! 
 Let me go ! I will see her once more only this once ! " 
 
 Roy with some difficulty held him down, and after 
 awhile he seemed to come to himself. " Was I talking 
 nonsense ? " he said. " It's a horrid feeling not being able 
 to control one's self. If I go crazy you can just let me 
 die, please. Life's bad enough now, and would be into- 
 lerable then. There she is again ! She's smiling at me. 
 Oh, Blanche ! you did care once. Come back ! Come 
 back ! He can't love you as I love ! But it's no use no 
 use ! she is worse than dead. I tell you I saw it in that 
 cursed paper, and I saw it in her own face. Why, one might 
 have known ! All women are like it. What do they care 
 so long as their vanity is satisfied? It's just as Bjornsen 
 says : 
 
 " ' If thou hadst not so smiled on me, 
 Now I should not thus weep for thee.' " 
 
 And then he fell into incoherent talk, chiefly in Nor- 
 wegian, but every now and then repeating the English 
 rendering of Bjornsen's lines. 
 
 Meanwhile Roy turned over in his mind half a dozen 
 schemes, and at length decided to leave Frithiof during 
 one of the quiet intervals, while he went for their own 
 doctor, Miss Charlotte mounting guard outside the door, 
 and promising to go to him if he seemed to need care. 
 
 Dr. Morris, who was an old friend, listened to Roy's 
 description, and returned with him at once, much to the 
 relief of poor Miss Charlotte, who was frightened out of 
 her senses by one of Frithiof s paroxysms of wild excite- 
 ment. 
 
 " Do you think seriously of him ? " said Roy, when, the 
 
190 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 excitement having died down, Frithiof lay in a sort oi 
 stupor, taking no notice at all of his surroundings. 
 
 " If we can manage to get him any sleep he will pull 
 through all right," said Dr. Morris, in his abrupt way. " If 
 not, he will sink before many days. You had better send 
 for his mother if he has one." 
 
 " He has only a sister, and she is in Norway." 
 
 "Well, send for her. for he will need careful nursing. 
 You say you will take charge of him ? Very well ; and to- 
 morrow morning I will send in a nurse, who will set you at 
 liberty for a few hours. Evidently he has had some shock. 
 Can you make out what it was at all ? " 
 
 " Well, last autumn, I believe indeed, I am sure he 
 was jilted by an English girl with whom he was desperately 
 in love. It all came upon the top of the other troubles of 
 which I told you." 
 
 " And what is this paper he raves about ? What is the 
 girl's name ? We might get some clue in that way." 
 
 " Oh," said Roy, " she was married some months ago. 
 She is now Lady Romiaux." 
 
 The doctor gave a stifled exclamation. 
 
 " That explains all. I suppose the poor fellow honestly 
 cared for her, and was shocked to see the paragraph in 
 this week's 'Idle Time.' Your friend has had a lucky 
 escape, if he could but see it in that light. For the hus- 
 band of that heartless little flirt must be the most miser- 
 able man alive. We shall soon have another of those 
 detestable causes ctlebres, and the newspapers lying about 
 in every household will be filled with all the poisonous 
 details." 
 
 As Roy kept watch through the long nights and days 
 that followed, as he listened to the delirious ravings of his 
 patient, and perceived how a man's life and health had 
 been ruined by the faithlessness of a vain girl, he became 
 so absorbed in poor Frithiof, so devoted to him, that he 
 altogether forgot his specimens and his microscope. He 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 191 
 
 wondered greatly how many victims had been sacrificed 
 to Blanche Romiaux's selfish love of admiration, and he 
 longed to have her in that room, and point to the man who 
 tossed to and fro in sleepless misery, arid say to her, 
 "This is what your hateful flirting has brought about." 
 
 But the little Norwegian episode had entirely passed out 
 of Lady Romiaux's mind. Had she been questioned she 
 would probably have replied that her world contained too 
 many hard realities to leave room for the recollection of 
 mere dreams. 
 
 The dream, nowever, had gone hard with Frithiof. 
 Sleeping draughts had no effect on him, and his temper- 
 ature remained so high that Dr. Morris began to fear the 
 worst. 
 
 Roy used to be haunted by the thought that he had 
 telegraphed for Sigrid Falck, and that he should have to 
 meet her after her long journey with the news that all was 
 over. And remembering the bright face and sunny manner 
 of the Norwegian girl, his heart failed him at the thought 
 of her desolation. But Frithiof could not even take in the 
 idea that she had been sent for. Nothing now made any 
 difference to him. Sleep alone could restore him. But 
 sleep refused to come, and already the death-angel hovered 
 near, ready to give him the release for which he so greatly 
 longed. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ALTHOUGH it was the middle of August, a bitterly cold 
 wind blew round the dreary little posting station at Hjerkin, 
 on the Dovrefield, and at the very time when Frithiof lay 
 dying in the intolerable heat of London, Sigrid, shivering 
 with cold, paced drearily along the bleak mountain road 
 with her aunt. They had come to the Dovrefield a fort- 
 night before for the summer holiday, but the weather had 
 
192 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 been unfavourable, and away from home, with nothing 
 very particular to occupy their time, Fru Gronvold and 
 Sigrid seemed to jar upon each other more than ever. 
 Apparently the subject they were discussing was not at all 
 to the girl's taste, for as they walked along there were two 
 ominous little depressions in her forehead, nor did her 
 black fur hat entirely account for the shadow that over- 
 spread her face. 
 
 " Yes," said Fru Gronvold, emphatically, " I am sorry 
 to have to say such a thing of you, Sigrid, but it really 
 seems to me that you are playing the part of the dog in the 
 manger. You profess absolute indifference to every man 
 you meet, yet you go on absorbing attention, and standing 
 in Karen's light, in a way which I assure you is very trying 
 to me." 
 
 Sigrid's cheek flamed. 
 
 " I have done nothing to justify you in saying such a 
 thing," she said, angrily . 
 
 " What ! " cried Fru Gronvold. " Did not that Swedish 
 botanist talk to you incessantly ? Does not the English 
 officer follow you about whenever he has the opportunity ? " 
 
 " The botanist talked because we had a subject in com- 
 mon," replied Sigrid. " And probably the officer prefers 
 talking to me because my English is more fluent than 
 Karen's." 
 
 " And that I suppose was the reason that you must be 
 the one to teach him the spring dans ? And the one to 
 sing him the ' Bridal Song of the Hardanger'? " 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Sigrid, with an impatient little stamp 
 of the foot, " am I to be forever thinking of this wretched 
 scheming and match-making ? Can I not even try to 
 amuse a middle-aged Englishman who is disappointed of 
 his reindeer, and finds himself stranded in a dreary little 
 inn with a handful of foreigners ? I have only been 
 courteous to him nothing more ; and if I like talking to 
 him it is merely because he comes from England." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 193 
 
 " I don't wish to be hard on you," said Fru Gronvold, 
 " but naturally I have the feelings of a mother, and do not 
 like to see Karen eclipsed. I accuse you of nothing worse, 
 my dear, than a slight forwardness a little deficiency in 
 tact. There is no occasion for anger on your part." 
 
 Sigrid bit her lip hard to keep back the retort that she 
 longed to make, and they walked in silence toward the 
 little cluster of wooden buildings on the hill-side, the lowest 
 of which contained the bedrooms, while further up the hill 
 the kitchen and dining-room stood on one side of the open 
 court-yard, and on the other the prettily arranged public 
 sitting-room. In warm weather Hjerkin is a little para- 
 dise, but on this windy day, under a leaden sky, it seemed 
 the most depressing place on earth. 
 
 " I shall go in and write to Frithiof," said Sigrid, at 
 length. And escaping gladly from Fru Gronvold, she ran 
 up to her room. 
 
 "Here we are at Hjerkin," she wrote, "for a month, 
 and it is more desolate than I can describe to you, uncle 
 and Oscar out shooting all day long, and scarcely a soul to 
 speak to, for most of the English have been driven away 
 by the bad weather, and two girls from Stockholm who 
 were here for their health are leaving this afternoon, un- 
 able to bear the dulness any longer. If something doesn't 
 happen soon I think I shall grow desperate. But surely 
 something will happen. We can't be meant to go on in 
 this wretched way, apart from each other. T am disap- 
 pointed that you think there is no chance of any opening 
 for me in London. If it were not for Swanhild I think I 
 should try for work any sort of work except teaching 
 at Christiania. But I can't bear to leave her, and uncle 
 would object to my trying for anything of the sort in 
 Bergen. I can't help thinking of the old times when we 
 were children, and of the summer holidays then. Don't 
 you remember when we had the island all to ourselves, and 
 usd to rush down the fir-hill, and frighten poor old Gro? " 
 
 7 
 
t94 A HARDY NORSZMAX. 
 
 She stopped writing because the thought of those past 
 days had blinded her with tears, and because the longing 
 for her father's presence had overwhelmed her ; they had 
 been so much to each other that there was not an hour in the 
 day when she did not miss him. The dreary wind howling 
 and whistling round the little wooden house seemed to 
 harmonise only too well with her sadness, and when the 
 unwelcome supper bell began to ring she wrapped her 
 shawl about her, and climbed the steep path to the dining- 
 room, slowly and reluctantly, with a look on her pale face 
 which it was sad to see in one so young. 
 
 Swanhild came dancing to meet her. 
 
 " Major Brown has got us such beautiful trout for supper, 
 Sigrid, and uncle says I may go out fishing, too, some day. 
 And you'll come with us, won't you ? " 
 
 " You had better take Karen," said Sigrid, listlessly. 
 " You know I never did care much for fishing. You shall 
 catch them and I will eat them," she added, with a dreary 
 little smile. And throughout supper she hardly spoke, and 
 at the first opportunity slipped away quietly, only, how- 
 ever, to be pursued by Swanhild. 
 
 " What is the matter? " said the child, slipping her arm 
 round her sister's waist. " Are you not coming to the 
 gitting-room ? " 
 
 " No ; " said Sigrid, " I am tired, and it is so cold in 
 there. I am going into the kitchen to buy some stamps. 
 Frithiofs letter ought to go to-morrow." 
 
 As she spoke she opened the door of the roomy old 
 kitchen, which is the pride of Hjerkin. Its three windows 
 were shaded by snowy muslin curtains, its spotless floor 
 was strewn with juniper, the walls, painted a peacock-blue, 
 were hung with bright dish covers, warming-pans, quaint 
 old bellows and kitchen implements. There was a tall old 
 clock in a black and gold case, a pretty corner cupboard 
 in shaded brown, and a huge old-fashioned cabinet with 
 cunning little drawers and nooks and corners, all painted 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 195 
 
 in red and blue and green, with an amount of gilding which 
 gave it quite an eastern look. 
 
 " Ah, how cozy the fire looks ! " cried Swanhild, cross- 
 ing over to the curious old grate which filled the whole of 
 one corner of the room, and which certainly did look very 
 tempting with its bright copper kettles and saucepans all 
 glowing in the ruddy light. 
 
 " Bless your heart," said the kind old landlady, " sit 
 down and warm yourself." 
 
 And one of the white-sleeved servant girls brought a 
 little chair which stood by a long wooden settle, and put 
 it close by the fire for the child, and Sigrid, her purchase 
 made, joined the little group, and sat silently warming her 
 hands, finding a sort of comfort in the mere physical heat, 
 and in the relief of being away from her aunt. The land- 
 lady told Swanhild stories, and Sigrid listened dreamily, 
 letting her thoughts wander off now and then to Frithiof, 
 or back into the far past, or away into the future which 
 looked so dreary. Still the kindness of these people, and 
 the interest and novelty of her glimpse into a different 
 sort of life, warmed her heart and cheered her a little. 
 Sitting there in the firelight she felt more at home than 
 she had done for many months. 
 
 " Come, Swanhild," she said at last reluctantly, " it is 
 ten o'clock, and time you were in bed." 
 
 And, thanking the landlady for her kindness, the two 
 sisters crossed over the court-yard to the sitting-room, 
 where Fru Gronvold was watching the progress of a rubber 
 in which Karen was Major Brown's partner, and had just 
 incurred his wrath by revoking. 
 
 "Where in the world have you been?" said Fru Gron- 
 vold, knitting vehemently. " We couldn't think what had 
 become of you both." 
 
 " I went to the kitchen to get some stamps," said Sigrid, 
 coldly. She always resented her aunt's questioning. 
 
 "And it was so lovely and warm in there," said Swan- 
 
196 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 hild, gayly. " And Fru Hjerkin has been telling me such 
 beautiful stones about the Trolds. Her mother really saw 
 one, do you know." 
 
 After this a cold good-night was exchanged, and Fru 
 Gronvold's brow grew darker still when Major Brown 
 called out in his hearty way : 
 
 " What, going so early, Miss Falck ? We have missed 
 you sadly to-night." Then, as she said something about 
 the English mail, "Yes, yes, quite right. And I ought to 
 be writing home, too, instead of playing." 
 
 " That means that he will not have another rubber," 
 thought Sigrid, as she hurried down the hill to the depen- 
 dence, " and I shall be blamed for it." 
 
 She fell into a state of blank depression, and long after 
 Swanhild was fast asleep she sat struggling with the English 
 letter, which, do what she would, refused to have a cheer- 
 ful tone forced into it. 
 
 " The only comfort is," she thought, " that the worst 
 has happened to us ; what comes now must be for the 
 better. How the wind is raging round the house and 
 shrieking at the windows ! And, oh, how dreary and 
 wretched this life is ! " 
 
 And in very low spirits she blew out the candle, and 
 lay down to sleep as best she might in a bed which shook 
 beneath her in the gale. 
 
 With much that was noble in Sigrid's nature there was 
 interwoven a certain fault of which she herself was keenly 
 conscious. She could love a few with the most ardent and 
 devoted love, but her sympathies were not wide ; to the 
 vast majority of those she met she was absolutely 
 indifferent, and though naturally bright and courteous and 
 'desirous of giving pleasure, yet she was too deeply re- 
 served to depend at all on the outer circle of friends ; she 
 liked them well enough, but it would not greatly have 
 troubled her had she never met them again. Very few had 
 the power to call out all the depths of tenderness, all the 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 197 
 
 womanly sweetness which really characterised her, while a 
 great many repelled her, and called out the harder side of 
 her nature. 
 
 It was thus with Fru Gronvold. To her aunt, Sigrid 
 was like an icicle, and her hatred of the little schemes and 
 hopes and anxieties which filled Fru Gronvold's mind 
 blinded her to much that was worthy of all admiration. 
 However, like all the Falcks, Sigrid was conscientious, and 
 she had been struggling on through the spring and sum- 
 mer, making spasmodic efforts to overcome her strong 
 dislike to one who in the main was kind to her, and the 
 very fact that she had tried made her now more conscious 
 of her failure. 
 
 " My life is sl.pping by," she thought to herself, " and 
 somehow I am not making the most of it. I am harder 
 and colder than before all this trouble came ; I was a 
 mere fine weather character, and the storm was too much 
 for me. If I go on hating auntie perhaps I shall infect 
 Swanhild, and make her turn into just such another 
 narrow-hearted woman. Oh, why does one have to live 
 with people that rub one just the wrong way ? " 
 
 She fell asleep before she had solved this problem, but 
 woke early and with a restless craving, which she could 
 not have explained, dressed hastily, put on all the wraps 
 that she possessed, and went out into the fresh morning 
 air. 
 
 " I have got to put up with this life," she said to herself, 
 " and I shall just walk off this stupid discontented mood. 
 What can't be cured must be endured. Oh, how beautiful 
 it is out all alone in the early morning ! I am glad the 
 wind is quite gone down, it has just cooled the air so that 
 to breathe it is like drinking iced water. After all, one 
 can't talk of merely enduring life when there is all this left 
 to one." 
 
 Leaving the steep high-road, she struck off to the left, 
 intent on gaining the top of Hjerkinsho. Not a house 
 
I 9 8 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 was in sight, not a trace of any living being ; she walked 
 on rapidly, for, although the long upward slope was in 
 part fairly steep, the gray lichen with which the ground 
 was thickly covered was so springy and delicious to walk on 
 that she felt no fatigue ; the refreshing little scrunch that it 
 made beneath her feet seemed in itself to invigorate her. 
 By the time she reached the top of the hill she was glowing 
 with exercise, and was glad to sit down and rest by the 
 cairn of stones. All around her lay one great undulating 
 sweep of grey country, warmed by the bright sunlight of 
 the summer morning, and relieved here and there by the 
 purple shadow of some cloud. Beyond, there rose tier 
 above tier of snowy peaks, Snehaetten standing out the 
 most nobly of all, and some eighty attendant pe#ks ranged 
 round the horizon line as though they were courtiers in 
 attendance on the monarch of the district. At first Sigrid 
 was so taken up by this wonderful panorama that she had 
 not a thought for anything beyond it, but after awhile the 
 strange stillness roused her ; for the first time in her life 
 she had come into absolute silence, and what made the 
 silence was the infinite space 
 
 " If one could always be in a peace like this," she thought, 
 " surely life would be beautiful then ! If one could get out of 
 all the littleness and narrowness of one's own heart, and 
 be silent and quiet from all the worries and vexations and 
 dislikes of life ! Perhaps it was the longing for this that 
 made women go into convents ; some go still into places 
 ^vhere they never speak. That would never suit me ; out 
 of sheer perversity I should want to talk directly. But if 
 one could always have a great wide open space like this 
 that one could go into when one began to get cross " 
 
 But there all definite thought was suddenly broken, 
 because nature and her own need had torn down a veil, 
 and there rushed into her consciousness a perception of an 
 infinite calm into which all might at any moment retire. 
 The sense of that Presence which had so clearly dawned 
 
A RARDY NORSEMAN. 199 
 
 on her on the night of her father's death, returned to her 
 now more vividly, and for the first time in her life she was 
 absolutely at rest. 
 
 After a time she rose and walked quietly home, full of 
 an eager hopefulness to begin what she rightly felt would be 
 a new life. She stopped to pick a lovely handful of flowers 
 for her aunt ; she smiled at the thought of the annoyance 
 she had felt on the previous night about such a trifle, and 
 went forward almost gayly to meet the old troubles, which 
 but a few hours before had seemed intolerable, but now 
 looked slight and easy. 
 
 Poor Sigrid ! she had yet to learn that with fresh 
 strength comes harder fighting in the battle of life, and 
 that of those to whom much is given much will be required. 
 
 They were very cheerful that morning at breakfast ; Fru 
 Gronvold seemed pleased with the flowers, and everything 
 went smoothly. Afterward, when they were standing in a 
 little group outside the door, she even passed her arm 
 within Sigrid's quite tenderly, and talked in the most 
 amiable way imaginable of the excursion which was being 
 planned to Kongswold. 
 
 " Look ! look ! " cried Swanhild, merrily, " here are 
 some travellers. Two carioles and a stolkjaerre coming 
 up the hill. Oh ! I hope they will be nice, and that they 
 will stay here." 
 
 The arrival caused quite a little bustle of excitement, 
 and many speculations were made as to the relationship of 
 the two sportsmen and the two ladies in the stolkjaerre. 
 Major Brown came forward to do the honours of the place, 
 as the landlord happened not to be at hand. 
 
 " Is there any one of the name of Falck here ? " asked 
 one of the travellers as he dismounted from his cariole. 
 
 We were at Dombaas last night and promised to bring 
 this on ; we told the landlord that we meant to sleep at 
 Fokstuen, but he said there was no quicker way of 
 delivery. Seems a strange mode of delivering telegrams, 
 doesn't it ?" 
 
200 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " Why, Miss Falck, I see it is for you," said Major 
 Brown, glancing at the direction. 
 
 She stepped hastily forward to take it from him with 
 flushed cheeks and trembling hands ; it seemed an eternity 
 before she had torn it open, and the few words within half 
 paralised her. 
 
 For a moment all seemed to stand still, then she became 
 conscious of the voices around. 
 
 " Oh, we were almost blown away at Fokstuen," said 
 one. 
 
 " But such fladbrod as they make there ! " said another, 
 " we brought away quite a tinful." 
 
 " Nothing wrong, my dear, I hope ? " said Fru Gron- 
 vold. " Child, child, what is it? Let me read." 
 
 Then came an almost irresistible impulse to burst into a 
 flood of tears, checked only by the presence of so many 
 strangers, and by the necessity of explaining to her aunt. 
 
 " It is in English," she said in a trembling voice. " From 
 Mr. Boniface. It says only, 'Frithiof dangerously ill. 
 Come.' ' 
 
 " Poor child ! you shall go at once," said Fru Gronvold. 
 " What can be wrong with Frithiof ? Dangerously ill ! 
 See, it was sent from London yesterday. You shall not 
 lose a moment, my dear. Here is your uncle, I'll tell him 
 everything, and do you go and pack what things you 
 need." 
 
 The girl obeyed ; it seemed as if when once she had 
 moved she was capable only of the one fear the terrible 
 fear lest she should miss the English steamer. Already it 
 was far too late to think of catching the Thursday steamer 
 from Christiania to London, but she must strain every 
 nerve to catch the next one. Like one in a frightful dream 
 she hastily packed, while Swanhild ran to and fro on mes- 
 sages, her tears falling fast, for she, poor little soul, would 
 be left behind, since it was impossible that she should be 
 taken to London lodgings where, for aught they knew, 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 201 
 
 Frithiof might be laid up with some infectious illness. In 
 all her terrible anxiety Sigrid felt for the child, and with a 
 keen pang remembered that she had not set her the best of 
 examples, and that all her plans for a new life, and for 
 greater sympathy with her aunt, were now at an end. The 
 old life with all its lost opportunities was over it was over ? 
 and she rightly felt that she had failed. 
 
 " I have murmured and rebelled," she thought to her- 
 self, " and now God is going to take from me even a 
 chance of making up for it. Oh, how hard it is to try too 
 late ! " 
 
 " We have been looking out the routes, dear," said Fru 
 Gronvold, coming into the room, " and the best way will 
 be for you to try for the Friday afternoon boat from Chris- 
 tiania, it generally gets to Hull a little before the Saturday 
 one from Bergen, your uncle says." 
 
 "When can I start?" asked Sigrid, eagerly. 
 
 " You must start almost at once for Lille-elvedal ; it will 
 be a terrible tiring drive for you, I'm afraid eighty-four 
 kilometers and a rough road. But still there is time to do 
 it, which is the great thing. At Lille-elvedal you will take 
 the night train to Christiania, it is a quick one, and will get 
 you there in ten hours, quite in time to catch the afternoon 
 boat, you see. Your uncle will take you and see you into 
 the train, and if you like we can telegraph to some friend 
 to meet you at the Christiania station ; the worst of it is, I 
 fear most people are away just now." 
 
 " Oh, I shall not want any one," said Sigrid. " If only 
 I can catch the steamer, nothing matters." 
 
 " And do not worry more than you can help," said Fru 
 Gronvold. " Who knows ? You may find him much 
 better." 
 
 " They would not have sent unless they feared " Sigrid 
 broke off abruptly, unable to finish her sentence. And 
 then with a few incoherent words she clung to her aunt? 
 asking her forgiveness for having annoyed her so often, 
 
202 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 and thanking her for all her kindness. And Fru Gronvold 
 whose conscience also pricked her, kissed the girl, and criec 
 over her, and was goodness itself. 
 
 Then came the wrench of parting with poor Swanhild, 
 who broke down altogether, and had to be left in the deso 
 late little bedroom sobbing her heart out, while Sigrid wenl 
 downstairs with her aunt, bade a hurried farewell to Majoi 
 Brown, Oscar and Karen ; then, with a pale, tearless face 
 she climbed into the stolkjaerre, and was driven slowl) 
 away in the direction of Dalen. 
 
 Her uncle talked kindly, speculating much as to the 
 cause of Frithiof s illness, and she answered as guardedly 
 as she could, all the time feeling convinced that somehow 
 Blanche Morgan was at the bottom of it all. Were they 
 never to come to the end of the cruel mischief wrought by 
 one selfish woman's vanity ? One thing was clear to her : 
 if Frithiof were spared to them she could never leave him 
 again, and the thought of a -possible exile from Norway 
 made her look back lingeringly at the scenes she was leav- 
 ing. Snehaetten's lofty peaks still appeared in the distance 3 
 rising white and shining into the clear blue sky ; what ages 
 it seemed since she had watched it from Hjerkinsho in the 
 wonderful stillness which had preceded this great storm. 
 Below her, to the right, lay a lovely smiling valley with 
 birch and fir trees, and beyond were round-topped moun- 
 tains, with here and there patches of snow gleaming out of 
 black rocky clefts. 
 
 But soon all thought of her present surroundings was 
 crowded out by the one absorbing anxiety, and all the more 
 because of her father's recent death hope seemed to die 
 within her, and something seemed to tell her that this hur- 
 ried journey would be in vain. Each time the grisly fear 
 clutched at her heart, the slowness of their progress drove 
 her almost frantic, and the easy-going people at Dalen who 
 leisurely fetched a horse which proved to be lame, and 
 then after much remonstrance, leisurely fetched another, 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN*. 203 
 
 tried her patience almost beyond bearing. With her own 
 hands she helped to harness the fresh pony, and at the 
 dreary little station of Kroghaugen, where all seemed as 
 quiet as the grave, she not only made the people bestir 
 themselves, but on hearing that it was necessary to make 
 some sort of a meal there, fetched the fagots herself to re- 
 light the fire, and never rested till all that the place would 
 afford was set before Herr Gronvold. 
 
 At length the final change had been made. Ryhaugen 
 was passed, and they drove on as rapidly as might be for 
 the last stage of their journey. At any other time the 
 beautiful fir-forest through which they were passing would 
 have delighted her, and the silvery river in the valley be- 
 low, with its many windings and its musical ripple, would 
 have made her long to stay. Now she scarcely saw them ; 
 and when, in the heart of the forest, the skydsgut declared 
 that his horse must rest for half an hour, she was in des- 
 pair. 
 
 " But there is plenty of time, dear," said her uncle, 
 kindly. "Come and take a turn with me, it will rest 
 you." 
 
 She paced to and fro with him, trying to conquer the 
 frenzy of impatience which threatened to overmaster her. 
 
 " See," he said at length, as they sat down to rest on 
 one of the moss-covered boulders, " I will give you now 
 while we are quiet and alone the money for your passage. 
 Here is a check for fifty pounds, you will have time to get 
 it cashed in Christiania ; " then as she protested that it 
 was far too much, " No, no ; you will need it all in Eng- 
 land. It may prove a long illness ; and, in any case," he 
 added, awkwardly, " there must be expenses." 
 
 Sigrid, with a horrible choking in her throat, thanked 
 him for his help, but that " in any case " rang in her ears 
 all through the drive, all through the waiting at the hotel 
 at Lille-elvedal, all through that weary journey in the 
 train. 
 
204 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 Yet it was not until she stood on board the " Angelo 
 that tears came to her relief. A great crowd had co 
 lected on the quays, for a number of emigrants were cros 
 ing over to England en route for America. Sigrid, stan< 
 ing there all alone, watched many a parting, saw stron 
 men step on to the deck sobbing like children, saw wome 
 weeping as though their hearts would break. And whe 
 the crowd of those left behind on the quay began to sin 
 the songs of the country, great drops gathered in her ey( 
 and slowly fell. They sung with subdued voices, " Fc 
 Norge, Kjaempers foderland," and " Det Norske Flag, 
 Last of all, as the great steamer slowly moved off, the 
 sung with a depth of pathos which touched even the in 
 concerned foreigners on board, " Ja vi elsker detl 
 landet." 
 
 The bustle and confusion on the steamer, the busy sa 
 lors, the weeping emigrants, the black mass of people c 
 shore waving their hats and handkerchiefs, some sobbinj 
 some singing to cheer the travellers, and behind the beai 
 tiful city of Christiania with its spires and towers, all th 
 had to Sigrid the strangest feeling of unreality ; yet it wj 
 a scene that no one present could ever forget. Brave] 
 the friends on shore sung out, their voices bridging ov< 
 the widening waters of the fjord, the sweet air well suitin 
 the fervour of the words : 
 
 " Yes, we love with fond devotion Norway's mountain domes, 
 Rising stormlashed o'er the ocean, wuh their thousand homes 
 Love our country when we're bending thoughts to fathers grand, 
 And to saga night that's sending dreams upon our land. 
 Harald on its throne ascended by his mighty sword ; 
 Hakon Norway's rights defended, helped by Oy vind's sword ; 
 From the blood of Olaf sainted, Christ's red cross arose." 
 
 But there the distance became too great for words to tr; 
 verse it, only the wild beauty of the music floated after tf 
 outward-bound vessel, and many a man strained his ea: 
 to listen to voices which should never again be heard t 
 him on earth, and many a woman hid her face and sobbe 
 with passionate grief. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 205 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 ON the following Monday afternoon, Roy Boniface, pale 
 and worn with all that he had been through, paced the 
 arrival platform at King's Cross Station. Already the 
 train from Hull was signalled and he longed for Sigrid's 
 advent, yet dreaded unspeakably the first few moments, 
 the hurried questions, the sad answers that must follow. 
 The steamer had been hindered by a fog, and the passen- 
 gers had not been landed at Hull until that morning, so that 
 Sigrid had only had time to telegraph the hour of her arrival, 
 and had been unable to wait for a reply to tell her of 
 Frithiof s state. He should have to tell her all tell her 
 amid the unsympathising crowd which jarred upon him 
 even now ; for during the last few days he had lived so 
 entirely with his patient that the outer world seemed 
 strange to him. His heart beat quickly as the engine 
 darted into sight, and one carriage after another flitted 
 past him. For a minute he could nowhere see her ; but 
 hastening up the platform, and closely scaning the travel- 
 lers, he at length caught sight of the golden hair and black 
 dress which he had been imaging to himself, and had heard 
 the clear voice saying, with something of Frithiof s quiet 
 decision : 
 
 " It is a black trunk from Hull, and the name is Falck." 
 
 Roy came quickly forward, and the instant she caught 
 sight of him all her calmness vanished. 
 
 " Frithiof? " she asked, as he took her hand in his. 
 
 " He is still living," said Roy, not daring to give an 
 evasive answer to the blue eyes which seemed to look into 
 his very heart. Whether she had feared the worst, or had 
 hoped for better news, he could hardly tell, she turned 
 deathly white, and her lips quivered piteously. 
 
206 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " I will see to your luggage," he said; " but before you 
 go to him you must have something to eat ; I see you are 
 quite worn out with the long journey, and unless you are 
 calm, you will only agitate him." 
 
 She did not speak a word, but passively allowed him to 
 take her to the refreshment-room and get her some tea ; 
 she even made a faint effort to attack the roll and butter 
 which had been placed before her, but felt too completely 
 tired out to get on with it. Roy, seeing how matters were, 
 quietly drew the plate away, cut the roll into thin slices, 
 and himself spread them for her. It was months since 
 they had parted at Balholm as friendly fellow-travellers, yet 
 it seemed now to Sigrid the most natural thing in the 
 world to depend on him, while he, at the first glimpse of 
 her questioning face, at the first grasp of her hand, had 
 realised that he loved her. After her lonely journey, with 
 its lack of sympathy, it was inexpressibly comforting to 
 her to have beside her one who seemed instantly to per- 
 ceive just what she needed. To please him, she tried 
 hard to eat and drink, and before long they were driving 
 to Vauxhall, and all fear lest she should break down was 
 over. 
 
 " Now," she said at last, " tell me more about his ill- 
 ness. What brought it on ? " 
 
 " The doctor says it must have been brought on by a 
 great shock, and it seems that he heard very sad news 
 that day of Lady Romiaux." 
 
 " I knew it was that wretched girl in some way," cried 
 Sigrid, clinching her hand. " I wish she were dead ! " 
 
 He was startled by her extreme bitterness, for by nature 
 she was gentle, and he had not expected such vehemence 
 from her. 
 
 "She is, as Frithiof incessantly says, ' worse than 
 dead/ " replied Roy. " It is a miserable story. Appar- 
 ently he got hold of some newspaper, read it all, and was 
 almost immediately broken down by it. They say he was 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 207 
 
 hardly himself when he left the shop that night, and the 
 next evening, when I saw him, I found him delirious." 
 
 " It is his brain that is affected, then ? " she faltered. 
 
 " Yes ; he seems to have been out of health for a long 
 time, but he never would give way. All the troubles of 
 last autumn told on him, and this was merely, as they say, 
 the last straw. But if only we could get him any sleep he 
 might even now recover." 
 
 " How long has he been without it ? " 
 
 " I came to him on Tuesday evening ; it was on the 
 Monday that he read that paragraph, just this day week, 
 and he has never slept since then. When did my telegram 
 reach you, by the bye ? " 
 
 " Not until Thursday. You see, though you sent it on 
 Wednesday morning, yet it had to be forwarded from 
 Bergen, as we were in an out-of-the-way place on the 
 Dovrefield." 
 
 " And you nave been travelling ever since ? You must 
 be terribly worn out." 
 
 " Oh, the travelling was nothing ; it was the terrible anx- 
 iety and the slowness of everything that almost maddened 
 me. But nothing matters now. I am at least in time to 
 see him." 
 
 " This is the house where he is lodging," said Roy, as 
 the cab drew up. " Are you fit to go to him now, or had 
 you not better rest first?" 
 
 11 No, no ; I must go to him directly," she said. And 
 indeed it seemed that the excitement had taken away all 
 her fatigue ; her cheeks were glowing, her eyes, though so 
 wistful, were full of eagerness. She followed him into the 
 gloomy little house, spoke a courteous word or two to Miss 
 Charlotte, who stood in the passage to receive her, and 
 then hastily mounted the stairs, and entered the darkened 
 room where, instead of the excitement which she had pic- 
 tured to herself, there reigned an ominous calm. A hospital 
 nurse, whose sweet, strong face contrasted curiously with 
 
208 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 her funereal garments, was sitting beside the mattresses, 
 which for greater convenience had been placed on the floor. 
 Frithiof lay in the absolute stillness of exhaustion, and 
 Sigrid, who had never seen him ill, was for a moment 
 almost overcome. That he who had always been so strong, 
 so daring, so full of life and spirit should have sunk to this ! 
 It seemed hardly possible that the thin, worn, haggard 
 face on the pillow could be the same face which had smiled 
 on her last from the deck of the steamer when he had 
 started on that fatal visit to the Morgans. He was talking 
 incoherently, and twice she caught the name of Blanche. 
 
 " If she were here, I could kill her ! " she thought to her- 
 self ; but the fierce indignation died down almost instantly, 
 for all the tenderness of her womanly nature was called out 
 by Frithiof s need. 
 
 " Try if you can get him to take this," said the nurse, 
 handing her a cup of beef-tea. 
 
 He took it passively, but evidently did not in the least 
 recognise her. It was only after some time had gone by 
 that the tone of her voice and the sound of his native 
 tongue affected him. His eyes, which for so many days 
 had seen only the phantoms of his imagination, fixed them- 
 selves on her face, and by degrees a light of recognition 
 dawned in them. 
 
 " Sigrid ! " he exclaimed, in a tone of such relief that 
 tears started to her eyes. 
 
 She bent down and kissed him. 
 
 " I have come to take care of you. And after you have 
 been to sleep we will have a long talk," she said, gently. 
 " There, let me make your pillows comfortable." 
 
 Her presence, instead of exciting him to wonder or to 
 ask questions, acted upon him like a soothing spell. 
 
 " Talk," he said. " It is so good to hear Norse once 
 more." 
 
 " I will talk if you will try to sleep. I will sit here and 
 say you some of Bjornsen's songs." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 209 
 
 And, with his hand still in hers, she said, in her quiet- 
 ing voice, "Jeg har sogt," and " Olaf Trygvason,* and 
 " Prinsessen." 
 
 This last seemed specially to please him, and while, for 
 the sixth time, she was repeating it, Roy who had been 
 watching them intently made her a little sign, and glancing 
 down she saw that Frithiof had fallen asleep. No one 
 stirred, for they all knew only too well how much depended 
 on that sleep. The nurse, who was one of those cheerful 
 and buoyant characters that live always in the present 
 and usually in the present of others mused over her 
 three companions, and settled in her practical mind the 
 best means of relieving Sigrid without disturbing the 
 patient. 
 
 Sigrid herself was living in the past, and was watching 
 sadly enough Frithiof s altered face. Could he ever again 
 be the same strong, hardy, dauntless fellow he had once 
 been ? She remembered how in the old days he had come 
 back from hunting fresh and invigorated when every one 
 else had been tired out. She thought of his room in the 
 old home in Kelvedalen with its gun and fishing-tackle, its 
 reindeer skins and bear skins, its cases of stuffed birds, all 
 trophies of his prowess. And then she looked round this 
 dreary London room, and thought how wretched it must 
 have felt to him when night after night he returned to it and 
 sat working at translations in which he could take no sort 
 of interest. 
 
 As for Roy, having lived for so many days in that sick- 
 room with scarcely a thought beyond it, he had now plunged 
 into a sudden reaction ; a great weight had been lifted off 
 his shoulders. Sigrid had come, and with one bound he 
 had stepped into a bright future ; a future in which he 
 could always watch the fair womanly face now before him ; 
 a future in which he should have the right to serve and 
 help her, to shield her from care and turn her poverty to 
 wealth. But that last thought brought a certain anxiety 
 
2io A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 with it. For he fancied that Sigrid was not without a 
 share of Frithiofs independent pride. If once she could 
 love him the question of money could, of course, make no 
 difference, but he feared that her pride might perhaps make 
 out of her poverty and his riches a barrier which should 
 shut out even the thought of love. 
 
 Of all those who were gathered together in that room. 
 Frithiof was the most entirely at rest, for at last there had 
 come to his relief the priceless gift of dreamless and un- 
 broken sleep. For just as the spiritual life dies within us 
 if we become absorbed in the things of this world and 
 neglect the timeless calm which is our trxie state, so the 
 body and mind sink if they cannot for brief intervals 
 escape out of the bonds of time into the realms of sleep. 
 The others lived in past, present, or future, but Frithiof 
 was in that blissful state of entire repose which builds up, 
 all unconsciously to ourselves, the very fibers of our being. 
 What happens to us in sleep that we wake once more like 
 new beings ? No one can exactly explain. What happens 
 to us when 
 
 " We kneel how weak, we rise how full of power 1 " 
 
 No one can precisely tell us. But the facts remain. By 
 these means are body and spirit renewed. 
 
 For the next day or two Frithiof realised little. To the 
 surprise and delight of all he slept almost incessantly, wak- 
 ing only to take food, to make sure that Sigrid was with 
 him, and to enjoy a delicious sense of ease and relief. 
 
 " He is out of the wood now," said Dr. Morris, cheer- 
 fully. " You came just in time, Miss Falck. But I will 
 give you one piece of advice : if possible stay in England 
 and make your home with him ; he ought not to be so 
 much alone." 
 
 " You think that he may have such an attack again ? " 
 asked Sigrid, wistfully. 
 
 11 No, I don't say that at all. He has a wonderful con- 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 21 1 
 
 stitution, and there is no reason why he should ever break 
 down again. But he is more likely to get depressed if he 
 is alone, and you will be able to prevent his lite from grow- 
 ing too monotonous." 
 
 So as she lived through those quiet days in the sick-room, 
 Sigrid racked her brain to think of some way of making 
 money, and searched, as so many women have done before 
 her, the columns of the newspapers, and made fruitless 
 inquiries, and wasted both time and money in the attempt. 
 One day Roy, coming in at his usual hour in the morning 
 to relieve guard, brought her a fat envelope which he had 
 found waiting for her in the hall. She opened it eagerly, 
 and made a little exclamation of disappointment and vex- 
 ation. 
 
 " Anything wrong? " he asked. 
 
 She began to laugh, though he fancied he saw tears in 
 her eyes. " Oh," she said, "it seems so ridiculous when I 
 had been expecting such great things from it. You know 
 I have been trying to hear of work in London, and there 
 was an advertisement in the paper which said that two 
 pounds a week might easily be realised either by men or 
 women without interfering with their present occupations, 
 and that all particulars would be given on the receipt of 
 eighteen pence. So I sent the money, and here is a 
 wretched aluminium pencil in return, and I am to make 
 this two pounds a week by getting orders for them." 
 
 The absurdity of the whole thing struck her more forci- 
 bly, and she laughed again more merrily ; Roy laughed 
 too. 
 
 " Have you made any other attempti ? " he asked. 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Sigrid, " I began to try in Norway, and 
 even attempted a story and sent it to one of our best 
 novelists to ask his opinion." 
 
 " And what did he say ? " 
 
 " Well," she said, smiling, " he wrote back very kindly, 
 but said that he could not conscientiously recommend any 
 
212 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 one -to write stories whose sole idea in taking up the pro- 
 fession was the making of money. My conscience pricked 
 me there, and so I never tried writing again and never will. 
 Then the other day I wrote to another place which adver- 
 tised, and got back a stupid bundle of embroidery patterns. 
 It is mere waste of money answering these things. They 
 say women can earn a guinea a time for shaving poodles, 
 but you see I have no experience in poodles," and she 
 laughed merrily. 
 
 Roy sat musing over the perplexities of ordinary life. 
 Here was he with more money than he knew what to do 
 with, and here was the woman he loved struggling in vain 
 to earn a few shillings. Yet, the mere fact that he wor- 
 shipped her made him chivalrously careful to avoid laying 
 her under any obligation. As far as possible he would 
 serve her, but in this vital question of money it seemed 
 that he could only stand aside and watch her efforts. Nor 
 did he dare to confess the truth to her as yet, for he per- 
 ceived quite plainly that she was absorbed in Frithiof, and 
 could not possibly for some time to come be free even to 
 consider her own personal life. Clearly, at present she 
 regarded him with that frank friendliness which he remem- 
 bered well at Balholm, and in his helpfulness had discerned 
 nothing that need be construed as the attentions of a lover. 
 After all, he was her brother's sole friend in England, and 
 it was natural enough that he should do all that he could 
 for them. 
 
 " My father and mother come home to-night," he said at 
 length, " and if you will allow me I will ask them if they 
 know of anything likely to suit you. Cecil will be very 
 anxious to meet you again. Don't you think you might 
 go for a drive with her to-morrow afternoon ? I would be 
 here with your brother." 
 
 " Oh, I should so like to meet her again," said Sigrid, " we 
 all liked her so much last summer. I don't feel that I 
 really know her at all yet, for she is not very easy to know, 
 but she interested me jus* because of that." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 2 1 3 
 
 " I don't think anyone can know Cecilwho has not^ived 
 with her," said Roy ; " she is so very reserved." 
 
 " Yes ; at first I thought she was just gentle and quiet, 
 without very much character, but one day when we were 
 out together we tried to get some branches of willow. 
 They were so stiff to break that I lazily gave up, but she 
 held on to hers with a strong will in her face which quite 
 startled me, and said, ' I can't be beaten just by a branch.' " 
 
 " That is Cecil all over," said Roy, smiling, " she never 
 would let anything daunt her. May I tell her that you will 
 see her to-morrow ? " 
 
 Sigrid gladly assented, and the next day both Mrs. Boni- 
 face and Cecil drove to the little house at Vauxhall. Roy 
 brought Sigrid down to the carriage, and with a very 
 happy, satisfied feeling introduced her to his mother, and 
 watched the warm meeting with Cecil. 
 
 " I can't think what would have become of Frithiof if it 
 had not been for all your kindness," said Sigrid. " Your 
 son has practically saved his life, I am sure, by taking care 
 of him through this illness." 
 
 " And the worst is over now, I hope," said Mrs. Boniface. 
 " That is such a comfort." 
 
 At the first moment Sigrid had fallen in love with the 
 sweet-natured, motherly old lady, and now she opened all 
 her heart to her, and they discussed the sad cause of Fri- 
 thiof s break-down, and talked of past days in Norway, and 
 of the future that lay before him, Cecil listening with that 
 absolute command of countenance which betokens a strong 
 nature, and her companions little dreaming that their words, 
 enough eagerly heard, were like so many sword-thrusts to 
 her. The neat brougham of the successful tradesman 
 might have seemed prosaic enough, and an unlikely place 
 in which to find any romance, but nevertheless the three 
 occupants, with their joys and sorrows, their hopes and 
 fears, were each living out an absorbing life-story. For 
 every heart has its own romance, and whether living in the 
 
214 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 fierce glare of a palace, in the whirl of society, in a quiet 
 London suburb, or in an East End Court, it is all the same. 
 The details differ, the accessories are strangely different, 
 but the love which is the great mainspring of life is pre- 
 cisely the same all the world over. 
 
 " What makes me so miserable," said Sigrid, " is to feel 
 that his life is, as it were, over, though he is so young j it 
 has been spoiled and ruined for him when he is but one- 
 and-twenty." 
 
 " But the very fact of his being so young seems to me to 
 give hope that brighter things are in store for him," said 
 Mrs. Boniface. 
 
 " I do not think so," said Sigrid. " That girl has taken 
 something from him which can never come again ; it does 
 not seem to me possible that a man can love like that 
 twice in a life-time." 
 
 " Perhaps not just in that way," said Mrs. Boniface. 
 
 " And besides," said Sigrid, " what girl would care to 
 take such love as he might now be able to give? I am 
 sure nothing would induce me to accept any secondary 
 love of that kind." 
 
 She spoke as a perfectly heart-whole girl, frankly and 
 unreservedly. And what she said was true. She never 
 could have been satisfied with less than the whole ; it was 
 her nature to exact much ; she could love very devotedly, 
 but she would jealously demand an equal devotion in 
 return. 
 
 Now Cecil was of a wholly different type. Already love 
 had taken possession of her, it had stolen into her heart 
 almost unconsciously and had brought grave shadows into 
 her quiet life, shadows cast by the sorrow of another. 
 Her notion of love was simply freedom to love and serve ; 
 to give her this freedom there must of course be true love 
 on the other side, but of its kind or of its degree she would 
 never trouble herself to think. For already her love was 
 so pure and deep that it rendered her almost selfless. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 215 
 
 Sigrid's speech troubled her for a minute or two ; if one 
 girl could speak so, why not all girls? Was she perhaps 
 less truly womanly that she thought less of what was owing 
 to herself? 
 
 " It may be so," she admitted, yet with a latent con- 
 sciousness that so infinite a thing as love could not be 
 bound by any hard and fast rules. " But I cannot help 
 it. Whether it is womanly or not, I would die to give 
 him the least real comfort." 
 
 " Tell Harris to stop, Cecil," said Mrs. Boniface. " We 
 will get some grapes for Mr. Falck." 
 
 And glad to escape from the carriage for a minute, and 
 glad, too, to be of use even in such a far-off way, Cecil 
 went into the fruiterer's, returning before long with a 
 beautiful basket of grapes and flowers. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 what I have brought you," said Sigrid, re-entering 
 the sick-room a little later on. 
 
 Frithiof took the basket and looked, with a pleasure 
 which a few weeks ago would have been impossible to him, 
 at the lovely flowers and fruit. 
 
 " You have come just at the right time, for he will insist 
 on talking of all the deepest things in heaven and earth," 
 said Roy, " and this makes a good diversion." 
 
 " They are from Mrs. Boniface. Is it not kind of her ? 
 And do you know, Frithiof, she and Doctor Morris have 
 been making quite a deep plot they want to transplant 
 us bodily to Rowan Tree House, and Doctor Morris thinks 
 the move could do you no harm now that you are getting 
 better." 
 
 His face lighted up with something of its former expres- 
 sion. 
 
 " How I should like never to see this hateful room 
 
li6 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 again ! " he exclaimed. " You don't know how I detest it. 
 The old ghosts seem to haunt it still. There is nothing 
 that I can bear to look at except your picture of Bergen, 
 which has done me more than one good turn." 
 
 Sigrid, partly to keep him from talking too much, partly 
 because she always liked to tell people of that little act of 
 kindness, gave Roy the history of the picture, and Frithiof 
 lay musing over the curious relative power of kindness 
 and cruelty, and was obliged, though somewhat reluct- 
 antly; to admit to himself that a very slight act of kind- 
 ness certainly did exert an enormous and unthought-of 
 influence. 
 
 Physical disorder had had much to do with the black 
 view of life which he had held for the last few months, but, 
 now that the climax had been reached and rest had been 
 forced upon him, his very exhaustion and helplessness 
 enabled him to see a side of life which had never before 
 been visible to him. He was very much softened by all 
 that he had been through. It seemed that while the 
 events of the past year had embittered and hardened him, 
 this complete breakdown of bodily strength had brought 
 back something of his old nature. The bright enjoyment 
 of mere existence could of course never return to him, but 
 still, notwithstanding the scar of his old wound, there 
 came to him during those days of his convalescence a 
 sense of keen pleasure in Sigrid's presence, in his gradually 
 returning strength, and in the countless little acts of kind- 
 ness which everybody showed him. 
 
 The change to Rowan Tree House seemed to work 
 wonders in him. The house had always charmed him, 
 and the recollection of the first time he had entered it, 
 using it as a shelter from the storm of life, much as Roy 
 and Cecil had used his father's house as a shelter from the 
 drenching rain of Bergen, returned to him again and again 
 through the quiet weeks that followed. The past year 
 looked now to him like a nightmare to a man who was 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 217 
 
 awakened in broad daylight. It seemed to him that he 
 was lying at the threshold of a new life, worn, and tired 
 with the old life, it was true, yet with a gradually increas- 
 ing interest in what lay beyond, and a perception that 
 there were many things of which he had as yet but the 
 very faintest notion. 
 
 Sigrid told him all the details of her life in Norway since 
 they had last seen each other, of her refusal of Torvald 
 Lundgren, of her relations with her aunt, of the early 
 morning on Hjerkinsho. And her story touched him. 
 When, stirred by all that had happened into unwonted 
 earnestness, she owned to him that after that morning on 
 the mountain everything had seemed different, he did not, 
 as he would once have done, laughingly change the subject, 
 or say that religion was all very well for women. 
 
 " It was just as if I had worn a crape veil all my life," 
 she said, looking up from her work for a moment with 
 those clear, blue, practical eyes of hers. " And up there 
 on the mountain it seemed as if some one had lifted it quite 
 away." 
 
 Her words stirred within him an uneasy sense of loss, a 
 vague desire, which he had once or twice felt before. He 
 was quite silent for some time, lying back idly in his chair 
 and watching her as she worked. 
 
 " Sigrid ! " he said at last, with a suppressed eagerness 
 in his voice, " Sigrid, you won't go back again to Norway 
 and leave me ? " 
 
 " No, dear, I will never leave you," she said, warmly. 
 " I will try to find some sort of work. To-night I mean to 
 talk to Mr. Boniface about it. Surely in this huge place 
 there must be something I can do." 
 
 " It is its very hugeness that makes one despair," said 
 Frithiof. " Good God ! what I went through last autumn ! 
 And there are thousands in the same plight, thousands who 
 would work if only they could meet with employment." 
 
 " Discussing the vexed question of the unemployed ? " 
 
21 8 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 said MA Boniface, entering the room in time to hear this 
 last remark. 
 
 " Yes," said Sigrid, smiling. " Though I'm a wretched 
 foreigner come to swell their number. But what can be 
 the cause of such distress ? " 
 
 " I think it is this," said Mr. Boniface, "population goes 
 on increasing, but practical Christianity does not increase 
 at the same rate." 
 
 "Are you what they call a Christian Socialist? " asked 
 Sigrid. 
 
 " No ; I am not very fond of assuming any distinctive 
 party name, and the Socialists seem to me to look too 
 much to compulsion. You can't make people practical 
 Christians by act of Parliament \ you have no right to 
 force the rich to relieve the poor. The nation suffers, and 
 all things are at a deadlock because so many of us neglect 
 our duty. If we argued less about the * masses,' and quietly 
 did as we would be done by to those with whom life brings 
 us into contact, I believe the distress would soon be at an 
 end." 
 
 " Do you mean by that private alms-giving ? " asked 
 Frithiof. " Surely that can only pauperise the people." 
 
 " I certainly don't mean indiscriminate alms-giving," said 
 Mr. Boniface ; " I mean only this : You start with your own 
 family ; do your duty by them. You have a constant 
 succession of servants passing through your household ; be 
 a friend to them. You have men and women in your 
 employ ; share their troubles. Perhaps you have tenants ; 
 try to look at life from their point of view. It we all tried 
 to do this the cure would indeed be found, and the breach 
 between the rich and poor bridged over." 
 
 How simply and unostentatiously Mr. Boniface lived out 
 his own theory Frithiof knew quite well. He reflected 
 that all the kindness he himself had received had not 
 tended to pauperise him, had not in the least crushed his 
 independence or injured his self-respect. On the contrary, 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 219 
 
 it had saved him from utter ruin, and had awakened in him 
 a gratitude which would last all his life. But this new cure 
 was not to depend only on taxation or on the State, but on 
 a great influence working within each individual. The idea 
 set him thinking, and the sense of his own ignorance 
 weighed upon him. 
 
 One morning it chanced that, sitting out in the veranda 
 at the back of the house, he overheard Lance's reading- 
 lesson, which was going on in the morning-room. Sounds 
 of labourious wrestling with the difficulties of " Pat a fat 
 cat," and other interesting injunctions, made him realise 
 how very slow human nature is to learn any perfectly new 
 thing, and how toilsome are first steps. Presently came a 
 sound of trotting feet. 
 
 " Gwen ! Gwen ! " shouted Lance, " come here to us. 
 Cecil is going to read to us out of her Bible, and it's 
 awfully jolly ! " 
 
 He heard a stifled laugh from Cecil. 
 
 " Oh, Lance," she said, " Gwen is much too young to 
 care for it. Come, shut the door, and we will begin." 
 
 Again came the sound of trotting feet, then Cecil's clear, 
 low voice. " What story do you want? " 
 
 " Read about the three men walking in the fender and 
 the fairy coming to them," said Lance, promptly. 
 
 " Not a fairy, Lance." 
 
 11 Oh, I mean an angel," he replied apologetically. 
 
 So she read him his favourite story of Nebuchadnezzar 
 the king, and the golden image and the three men who 
 would not bow down to it. 
 
 " You see," she said at the end, " they were brave men, 
 they would not do what they knew to be wrong. We want 
 you to grow like them." There was a silence, broken at 
 last by Lance. 
 
 " I will only hammer nails in wood," he said gravely. 
 
 " How do you mean ? " asked Cecil, not quite seeing th*, 
 connection. 
 
220 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " Not into the tables and chairs," said Lance, who had 
 clearly transgressed in this matter, and had applied the 
 story to his own life with amusing simplicity. 
 
 " That's right," said Cecil. " God will be pleased if you 
 
 try." 
 
 " He can see us, but we can't see Him," said Lance, in 
 his sweet childish tones, quietly telling forth in implicit 
 trust the truth that many a man longs to believe. 
 
 A minute after he came dancing out into the garden, his 
 short sunny curls waving in the summer wind, his cheeks 
 glowing, his hazel eyes and innocent little mouth beaming 
 with happiness. 
 
 " He looks like an incarnate smile," thought Frithiof. 
 
 And then he remembered what Roy had told him of the 
 father and mother, and he thought how much trouble 
 awaited the poor child, and felt the same keen wish that 
 Cecil had felt that he might be brought up in a way which 
 should make him able to resist whatever evil tendencies he 
 had inherited. " If anything can save him it will be such 
 a home as this," he reflected. 
 
 Then, as Cecil came out into the veranda, he joined her, 
 and they walked together down one of the shady garden 
 paths. 
 
 " I overheard your pupil this morning," he began, and 
 they laughed together over the child's quaint remarks. 
 " That was very good, his turning the story to practical 
 account all by himself. He is a lucky little beggar to have 
 you for his teacher. I wonder what makes a child so 
 ready to swallow quite easily the most difficult things in 
 heaven and earth ? " 
 
 " I suppose because he knows he can't altogether under- 
 stand, and is willing to take things on trust," said Cecil. 
 
 " If anything can keep him straight when he grows up it 
 will be what you have taught him," said Frithiof. " You 
 wonder that I admit that, and a year ago I couldn't have 
 said as much, but I begin to think that there is after all a 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 221 
 
 very great restraining power in the old faith. The difficulty 
 is to get up any sort of interest in that kind of thing." 
 
 " You talk as if it were a sort of science," said Cecil. 
 
 "That is precisely what it seems to me ; and just as one 
 man is born with a love of botany, another takes naturally 
 to astronomy, and a third has no turn for science whatever, 
 but is fond of hunting and fishing, so it seems to me with 
 religion. All of you, perhaps, have inherited the tendency 
 from your Puritan forefathers, but I have inherited quite 
 the opposite tendency from my Viking ancestors. Like 
 them, I prefer to love my friend and hate my enemy, and 
 go through life in the way that best pleases me. I am not 
 a reading man ; I can't get up the faintest sort of interest 
 in these religious matters." 
 
 " We are talking of two different things," said Cecil. 
 " It is of the mere frame-work of religion that you are 
 speaking. Very likely many of us are born without any 
 taste for theology, or sermons, or Church history. We 
 are not bound surely to force up an interest in them." 
 
 " Then if all that is not religion, pray what is it ? You 
 are not like Miss Charlotte, who uses phrases without 
 analysing them. What do you mean by religion ? " 
 
 " I mean knowing and loving God," she said, after a 
 moment's pause." 
 
 Her tone was very gentle, and not in the least didactic. 
 
 " I have believed in a God always more or less," said 
 Frithiof slowly. " But how do you get to know Him ? " 
 . " I think that it is something in the same way that 
 people get to know each other," said Cecil. " Cousin 
 James Horner, for instance, sees my father every day, he 
 has often stayed in the same house with him, and has in a 
 sense known him all his life. But he doesn't really know 
 him at all. He never takes the trouble really to know any 
 one. He sees the outside of my father that is all. They 
 have hardly anything in common." 
 
 " Mr. Horner is so full of himself and his own opinions 
 
222 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 that he never could appreciate such a man as your father," 
 said Frithiof. Then, perceiving that his own mouth had 
 condemned him, he relapsed into silence. " What is your 
 receipt, now, for getting to know a person ? " he said pre- 
 sently with a smile. 
 
 " First," she said, thoughtfully, " a desire to know and 
 a willingness to be known. Then I think one must forget 
 one's self as much as possible, and try to understand the 
 feelings, and words, and acts of the one you wish to know 
 in the light of the whole life, or as much as you can learn 
 of it, not merely of the present. Then, too, I am quite 
 sure that you must be alone together, for it is only alone 
 that people will talk of the most real things." 
 
 He was silent, trying in his own mind to fit her words 
 to his own need. 
 
 " Then you don't think, as some do, that when once we 
 set out with a real desire all the rest is quite easy and to 
 be drifted into without any special effort." 
 
 " No," she said, " I do not believe in drifting. And if 
 we were not so lazy I believe that we should all of us 
 know more of God. It is somehow difficult to take quite 
 so much pains about that as about other things." 
 
 " It can't surely be difficult to you ; it always seems to 
 be easy to women, but to us men all is so different." 
 
 " Are you so sure of that ? " she said, quietly. 
 
 " I have always fancied so," he replied. " Why, the 
 very idea of shutting one's self in alone to think to pray 
 it is so utterly unnatural to a man." 
 
 " I suppose the harder it is the more it is necessary," 
 said Cecil. " But our Lord was not always praying on 
 mountains ; he was living a quiet ordinary shop life, and 
 must have been as busy as you are." 
 
 Her words startled him ; everything connected with 
 Christianity had been to him lifeless, unreal, formal 
 something utterly apart from the every-day life of a nine- 
 teenth century man. She had told him that to her religion 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 223 
 
 meant " knowing " and " loving," and he now perceived 
 that by " loving " she meant the active living of the Christ- 
 life, the constant endeavour to do the will of God. She 
 had not actually said this in so many words, but he knew 
 more plainly than if she had spoken that this was her 
 meaning. 
 
 They paced in silence the shady garden walk. To 
 Frithiof the whole world seemed wider than it had ever 
 been before. On the deadly monotony of his business life 
 there had arisen a light which altogether transformed it. 
 He did his best even now to quench its brightness, and 
 said to himself: "This will not last ; I shall hate desk 
 and counter and all the rest of it as badly as ever when I 
 go back." For it was his habit since Blanche had deceived 
 him to doubt the lastingness of all that he desired to keep. 
 Still, though he doubted for the future, the present was 
 wonderfully changed, and the new idea that had come into 
 his life was the best medicine he could have had. 
 
 Sigrid watched his returning strength with delight ; 
 indeed, perhaps she never realised what he had been 
 during his lonely months of London life. She had not 
 seen the bitterness, the depression, the hardness, and the 
 too evident deterioration which had saddened Cecil's 
 heart through the winter and spring ; and she could not 
 see as Cecil saw how he was struggling up now into a 
 nobler manhood. Roy instinctively felt it. Mr. Boniface, 
 with his ready sympathy and keen insight, found out some- 
 thing of the true state of the case ; but only Cecil actually 
 knew it. She had had to bear the worst of the suffering 
 all through those long months, and it was but fair that the 
 joy should be hers alone. 
 
 Frithiof hardly knew wnat part of the day was most 
 pleasant to him the quiet mornings after Mr. Boniface 
 and Roy had gone to town, when he and Sigrid were left 
 to their own devices ; the pleasant little break at eleven, 
 when Mrs. Boniface looked in to remind them that fruit 
 
224 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 was good in the morning, and to tempt him with pears and 
 grapes, while Cecil and the two children came in from the 
 garden, bringing with them a sense of freshness and life ; 
 the drowsy summer afternoon when he dozed over a novel ; 
 the drive in the cool of the day, and the delightful home 
 evenings with music and reading aloud. 
 
 Quiet the life was, it is true, but dull never. Every one 
 had plenty to do, yet not too much, for Mr. Boniface had 
 a horror of the modern craze for rushing into all sorts of 
 philanthropic undertakings, would have nothing to do with 
 bazaars, groaned inwardly when he was obliged by a sense 
 of duty to attend any public meeting, and protested 
 vehemently against the multiplication of " societies." 
 
 " I have a pet society of my own," he used to say with 
 a smile. " It is the Keeping at Home Society. Every 
 householder is his own president, and the committee is 
 formed by his family." 
 
 Notwithstanding this, he was the most widely charitable 
 man, and was always ready to lend a helping hand ; but 
 he loved to work quietly, and all who belonged to him 
 caught something of the same tone, so that in the house 
 there was a total absence of that wearing whirl of good 
 works in which many people live nowadays, and though 
 perhaps they had not so many irons in the fire, yet the 
 work they did was better done in consequence, and the 
 home remained what it was meant to be, a centre of love 
 and life, not a mere eating-house and dormitory. 
 
 Into the midst of this home there had come now some 
 strangely fresh elements. Three distinct romances were 
 being worked out beneath that quiet roof. There was 
 poor Frithiof with his shattered life, his past an agony 
 which would scarcely bear thinking of, his future a despe- 
 rate struggle with circumstances. There was Cecil, whose 
 life was so far bound up with his that when he suffered she 
 suffered too, yet had to live on with a serene face and 
 make no sign. There was Roy already madly in love with 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 225 
 
 the blue-eyed, fair-haired Sigrid, who seemed in the glad 
 reaction after all her troubles to have developed into a 
 totally different being, and was the life of the party. And 
 yet in spite of the inevitable pain of love, these were happy 
 days for all of them. Happy to Frithiof because his 
 strength was returning to him ; because, with an iron 
 resolution, he as far as possible shut out the remembrance 
 of Blanche ; because the spirit life within him was slowly 
 developing, and for the first time he had become conscious 
 that it was a reality. 
 
 Happily for Cecil, because her love was no foolish sent! 
 mentality, no selfish day-dream, but a noble love which 
 taught her more than anything else could possibly have 
 done ; because, instead of pining away at the thought that 
 Frithiof was utterly indifferent to her, she took it on trust 
 that God would withhold from her no really good thing, 
 and made the most of the trifling ways in which she could 
 at present help him. Happiest of all perhaps for Roy 
 because his love story was full of bright hope a hope 
 that each day grew fuller and clearer. 
 
 " Robin," said Mrs. Boniface, one evening, to her hus- 
 band, as together they paced to and fro in the veranda, 
 while Frithiof was being initiated into lawn-tennis in the 
 garden, " I think Sigrid Falck is one of the sweetest girls 
 I ever saw." 
 
 " So thinks some one else if I am not much mistaken," 
 he replied. 
 
 " Then you, too, have noticed it. I am so glad. I hoped 
 it was so, but could not feel sure. Oh, Robin, I wonder 
 if he has any chance ? She would make him such a sweet 
 little wife ! " 
 
 " How can we tell that she has not left her heart in 
 Norway ? " 
 
 " I do not think so," said Mrs. Boniface. " No, I feel 
 sure that can't be, from the way in which she speaks of her 
 life there. If there is anv rival to be feared it is Frithiof. 
 
 8 
 
226 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 They seem to me wrapped up in each other, and it is only 
 natural too, after all their trouble and separation and this 
 illness of his. How strong he is getting again, and how 
 naturally he takes to the game ! He is such a fine-looking 
 fellow, somehow he dwarfs every one else," and she 
 glanced across to the opposite side of the lawn, where Roy 
 with his more ordinary height and build certainly did seem 
 somewhat eclipsed. And yet to her motherly eyes that 
 honest, open, English face, with its sunburned skin, was 
 perhaps the fairest sight in the world. 
 
 Not that she was a blindly and foolishly loving mother, 
 she knew that he had his faults. But she knew, too, that 
 he was a sterling fellow, and that he would make the 
 woman he married perfectly happy. 
 
 They were so taken up with thoughts of the visible 
 romance that was going on beneath their eyes, that it 
 never occurred to them to think of what might be passing 
 in the minds of the two on the other side of the net. And 
 perhaps that was just as well, for the picture was a sad 
 one, and would certainly have cast a shadow upon their 
 hearts. Cecil was too brave and resolute and self-con- 
 trolled to allow her love to undermine her health ; nor did 
 she so brood upon her inevitable loss that she ceased to 
 enjoy the rest of her life. There was very much still left 
 to her, and though at times everything seemed to her 
 flavourless and insipid, yet the mood would pass and she 
 would be able intensely to enjoy her home life. Still there 
 was no denying that the happiness which seemed dawning 
 for Roy and Sigrid was denied to the other two ; they 
 were handicapped in the game of life just as they were at 
 tennis the setting sun shone full in their faces and made 
 the play infinitely more difficult, whereas the others play- 
 ing in the shady courts had a considerable advantage over 
 them. 
 
 " Well, is the set over?" asked Mr. Boniface, as the 
 two girls came toward them. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 227 
 
 " Yes," cried Sigrid, merrily. " And actually our side 
 has won ! I am so proud of having beaten Cecil and 
 Frithiof, for, as a rule, Frithiof is one of those detestable 
 people who win everything. It was never any fun playing 
 with him when we were children, he was always so 
 lucky." 
 
 As she spoke Frithiof had come up the steps behind 
 her. 
 
 " My luck has turned, you see," he said, with a smile in 
 which there was a good deal of sadness. But his tone was 
 playful, and indeed it seemed that he had entirely got rid 
 of the bitterness which had once dominated every look 
 and word. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " she cried, slipping her hand into his arm. 
 " Your luck will return, it is only that you are not quite 
 strong again yet. Wait a day or two, and I shall not have 
 a chance against you. You need not grudge me my one 
 little victory." 
 
 " It has not tired you too much? " asked Mrs. Boniface, 
 glancing up at Frithiof. There was a glow of health in his 
 face which she had never before seen, and his expression 
 which had once been stern had grown much more gentle. 
 " But I see," she added, " that is a foolish question, for I 
 don't think I have ever seen you looking better. It seems 
 to me this is the sort of exercise you need. We let you 
 stay much too long over that translating in the old days." 
 
 " Yes," said Sigrid : " I hardly know whether to laugh 
 or cry when I think of Frithiof, of all people in the world, 
 doing learned translations for such a man as Herr Sivert- 
 sen. He never could endure sedentary life." 
 
 " And yet," said Mr. Boniface, pacing along the veranda 
 with her, " I tried in vain to make him take up cricket. 
 He declared that in Norway you did not go in for our 
 English notions of exercise for the sake of exercise." 
 
 " Perhaps not," said Sigrid ; " but he was always going 
 in for the wildest adventures, and never had the least taste 
 
228 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 ' for books. Poor Frithiof, it only shows how brave and 
 resolute he is ; he is so set upon paying off these debts 
 that he will sacrifice everything to that one idea, and will 
 keep to work which must be hateful to him." 
 
 " He is a fine fellow," said Mr. Boniface. " I had hardly 
 realised what his previous life must have been, though of 
 course I knew that the drudgery of shop life was sorely 
 against the grain." 
 
 " Ever since he was old enough to hold a gun he used to 
 go with my father in August to the mountains in Nord 
 fjord for the reindeer hunting," said Sigrid. " And every 
 Sunday through the winter he used to go by himself on 
 the wildest excursions after sea-birds. My father said it 
 was good training for him, and as long as he took with 
 him old Nils, his skydsmand I think you call that boat- 
 man in English he was never worried about him when he 
 was away. But sometimes I was afraid for him, and old 
 Gro, our nurse, always declared he would end by being 
 drowned. Come here, Frithiof, and tell Mr. Boniface 
 about your night on the fjord by Bukken." 
 
 His eyes lighted up at the recollection. 
 
 "Ah, it was such fun!" he cried; "though we were 
 cheated out of our sport after all. I had left Bergen on 
 the Saturday, going with old Nils to Bukken, and there as 
 usual we took a boat to row across to Gjelleslad where I 
 generally slept, getting up at four in the morning to go 
 after the birds. Well that night Nils and I set out to row 
 across, but had not got far when the most fearful storm 
 came down on us. I never saw such lightning, before or 
 since, and the wind was terrific ; we could do nothing against 
 it, and indeed it was wonderful that we did not go to the 
 bottom. By good luck we were driven back to land, and 
 managed to haul up the boat, turn it up, and shelter as 
 best we could under it, old Nils swearing like a trooper and 
 declaring that I should be the death of him some day. 
 For four mortal hours we stayed there, and the storm still 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 229 
 
 raged. At last by good luck I hunted up four men who 
 were willing to run the risk of rowing us back to Bergen. 
 Then off we set, Nils vowing that we should be drowned, 
 and so we were very nearly. It was the wildest night I 
 ever knew, and the rowing was fearful work, but at last we 
 got safely home." 
 
 " And you should have seen him," cried Sigrid. " He 
 roused us all up at half-past six in the morning, and there 
 he was, soaked to the skin, but looking so bright and jolly 
 and making us roar with laughter with his description of 
 it all. And I really believe it did him good ; for after a 
 few hours' sleep he came down in the best possible of 
 humours. And don't you remember, Frithiof, how you 
 played it all on your violin ? " 
 
 " And was only successful in showing how well Nils 
 growled," said Frithiof, laughing. 
 
 The reference to the violin suggested the usual evening's 
 music, and they went into the drawing-room, where Sigrid 
 played them some Norwegian airs, Roy standing near her 
 and watching her fair sweet face, which was still glowing 
 with the recollection of those old days of which they had 
 talked. 
 
 " Was it possible," he thought, " that she who was so 
 devoted to her brother, that she who loved the thought of 
 perilous adventures, and so ardently admired the bold, 
 fearless, peril-seeking nature of the old Vikings, was it pos- 
 sible that she could ever love such an ordinary, humdrum, 
 commonplace Londoner as himself? He fell into great 
 despondency, and envied Frithiof his Norse nature, his 
 fine physique, his daring spirit. 
 
 How infinitely harder life was rendered to his friend by 
 that same nature he did not pause to think, and sorry as 
 he was for Frithiof s troubles, he scarcely realised at all 
 the force with which they had fallen upon the Norwegian's 
 proud, self-reliant character. 
 
 Absorbed in the thought of his own love, he had little 
 
*30 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 leisuie for such observations. The one all-engrossing 
 question excluded everything else. And sometimes with 
 hope he asked himself " Can she love me ? " Sometimes 
 in despair assured himself that it was impossible altoge- 
 ther impossible. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 IF any one had told Roy that his fate was to be seriously 
 affected by Mrs. James Homer, he would scarcely have 
 credited the idea. But the romances of real life are not as 
 a rule spoiled by some black-hearted villain, but are quite 
 unconsciously checked by uninteresting matrons, or pro- 
 saic men of the world, who, with entire innocence, frustrate 
 hopes, and in happy ignorance go on their way never 
 realising that they have had anything to do with the actual 
 lives of those they meet. If the life at Rowan Tree House 
 had gone on without interruption, if Sigrid had been 
 unable to find work and had been at perfect leisure to 
 consider Roy's wooing, it is quite probable that in a few 
 weeks their friendship might have ended in betrothal. 
 But Mrs. James Homer gave a children's party, and this 
 fact changed the whole aspect of affairs. 
 
 " It is as you say, rather soon after my poor uncle's 
 death for us to give a dance," said Mrs. Horner, as she 
 sat in the drawing-room of Rowan Tree House discussing 
 the various arrangements. " But you see it is dear Ma- 
 mie's birthday, and I do not like to disappoint her; and 
 Madame Lechertier has taken the idea up so warmly, and 
 has promised to come as a spectator. It was at her sug- 
 gestion that we made it a fancy-dress affair." 
 
 " Who is Madame Lechertier ? " asked Sigrid, who 
 listened with all the interest of a foreigner to these 
 details. 
 
 *' She is a very celebrated dancing mistress," explained 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 231 
 
 Cecil. " I should like you to see her, for she is quite a 
 character." 
 
 " Miss Faick will, I hope, come to our little entertain- 
 ment," said Mrs. Horner, graciously. For although she 
 detested Frithiof, she had been against her will, charmed 
 by Sigrid. " It is, you know, quite a small affair about 
 fifty children, and only from seven to ten. I would not, 
 for the world, shock the congregation, Loveday, so I mean 
 to make it all as simple as possible. I do not know that 
 I shall even have ices." 
 
 " My dear, I do not think ices would shock them," said 
 Mrs. Boniface, " though I should think perhaps they 
 might not be wholesome for little children who have got 
 heated with dancing." 
 
 "Oh, I don't really think they'll be shocked at all," said 
 Mrs. Horner, smiling. " James could do almost anything 
 before they'd be shocked. You see, he's such a benefactor 
 to the chapel, and is so entirely the leading spirit ; why, 
 where would they be without him ? " 
 
 Mrs. Boniface murmured some kindly reply. It was quite 
 true, as she knew very well. James Horner was so entirely 
 the rich and generous head of the congregation that every- 
 thing had to give way to him, and the minister was not a 
 little hampered in consequence. It was perhaps the per- 
 ception of this which made Mr. Boniface, an equally rich 
 and generous man, play a much more quiet part. He 
 worked quite as hard to further the good of the congrega- 
 tion, but his work was much less apparent, nor did he ever 
 show the least symptom of that love of power which was 
 the bane of James Homer's existence. 
 
 Whether Mr. Boniface entirely approved of this chil- 
 dren's fancy-dress dance, Sigrid could not feel sure. She 
 fancied that in spite of all his kindly tolerant spirit he had 
 an innate love of the older forms of Puritanism, and that 
 his quiet, home-keeping nature could not understand at all 
 the enjoyment of dancing or of character dresses. Except 
 
232 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 with regard to music, the artistic side of his nature was not 
 highly developed, and while his descent from Puritan 
 forefathers had given him an immense advantage in many 
 ways, and had undoubtedly helped to make him the con- 
 scientious, liberty-loving, God fearing man he was, yet it 
 had also given him the Puritan tendency to look with dis- 
 trust on many innocent enjoyments. He was always fearful" 
 of what these various forms of amusement might lead to. 
 But he forgot to think of what dulness and dearth of 
 amusement might lead to and had not fully appreciated 
 the lesson which Englishmen must surely have been 
 intended to learn from the violent reaction of the Restora- 
 tion after the restrictions of the Commonwealth. 
 
 But no matters of opinion ever made even a momentary 
 discomfort in that happy household. Uniformity there was 
 not, for they thought very differently, and each held fast 
 to his own view ; but there was something much higher 
 than uniformity, there was unity, which is the outcome of 
 love. Little differences of practice came from time to time ; 
 they went their various ways to church and chapel on 
 Sunday, and Roy and Cecil would go to hear Donati at the 
 opera house, while the father and mother would have to 
 wait till there was a chance of hearing the celebrated bary- 
 tone at St. James' Hall ; but in the great aims of life they 
 were absolutely united, and worked and lived in perfect 
 harmony. A length the great day came, and Mr. Boniface 
 and Roy on their return from town were greeted by a be- 
 witching little figure on the stairs, with curly hair combed 
 out to its full length and a dainty suit of crimson velvet 
 trimmed with gold lace. 
 
 "Who who are you?" said Mr. Boniface, entering 
 almost unconsciously into the fun of the masquerade. 
 
 11 I'm Cinderella's prince," shouted Lance, gleefully, and 
 in the highest spirits the little fellow danced in to show 
 Frithiof his get-up, capering all over the room in that rap- 
 turous enjoyment of childhood, the sight of which is one 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 233 
 
 of the purest pleasures of all true men and women. Frith iof, 
 who had been tired and depressed all day, brightened up 
 at once when Lance, who v/as very fond of him, came to 
 sit on his knee in that ecstasy of happy impatience which 
 one only sees in children. 
 
 " What is the time now ? " he asked every two minutes. 
 " Do you think it will soon be time to go ? Don't you 
 almost think you hear the carriage coming ? " 
 
 " As for me," said Sigrid, " I feel like Cinderella before 
 the fairy godmother came. You are sure Mrs. Homer will 
 not mind this ordinary black gown ? " 
 
 " Oh, dear, no," said Cecil. " You see, she herself is in 
 mourning ; and., besides, you look charming, Sigrid." 
 
 The compliment was quite truthful, for Sigrid, in her 
 quiet black dress, which suited her slim figure to perfection, 
 the simple folds of white net about her neck, and the 
 delicate blush roses and maidenhair which Roy had gathered 
 for her, certainly looked the most charming little woman 
 imaginable. 
 
 " I wish you could come, too," said Cecil, glancing at 
 Frithiof, while she swathed the little prince in a thick plaid, 
 " It will be very pretty to see all the children in costume " 
 
 " Yes," he replied ; " but my head would never stand 
 the noise and the heat. I am better here." 
 
 (i We shall take great care of him," said Mrs. Boniface; 
 "and you must tell us all about it afterword. Don't keep 
 Lance up late if he seems to get tired, dearie. Good-bye, 
 and mind you enjoy yourself." 
 
 " There goes a happy quartet,'' said Mr. Boniface, as he 
 closed the door behind them. " But here, to my way of 
 thinking, is a more enviable trio. Did you ever see this 
 book, Frithiof?" 
 
 Since his illness they had fallen into the habit of calling 
 him by his Christian name, for he had become almost like 
 one of the family. Even in his worst days they had all 
 been fond of him, and now in these days of his convales- 
 
234 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 cence, when physical suffering had brought out the gentler 
 side of his nature, and his strength of character was shown 
 rather in silent patience than in dogged and desperate 
 energy, as of old, he had'won all hearts. The proud, wilful 
 isolation which had made his fellow-workers detest him had 
 been broken down at length, and gratitude for all the kind- 
 ness he had received at Rowan Tree House had so changed 
 him that it seemed unlikely that he would ever sink again 
 into such an extremity of hard bitterness. His laughter over 
 the book which Mr. Boniface had brought him seemed to 
 his host and hostess a promising sign, and over " Three in 
 Norway" these three in England passed the pleasant 
 evening which Mr. Boniface had predicted. 
 
 Meanwhile Sigrid was thoroughly enjoying herself. 
 True, Mr. and Mrs. Horner were vulgar, and now and then 
 said things which jarred on her, but with all their failings 
 they had a considerable share of genuine kindliness, and 
 the very best side of them showed that night, as they tried 
 to make all their guests happy. A children's party gene- 
 rally does call out whatever good there is in people ; 
 unkind gossip is seldom heard at such a time, and people 
 are never bored, for they are infected by the genuine enjoy- 
 ment of the little ones, the dancers who do not, as in later 
 life, wear masks, whose smiles are the smiles of real and 
 intense happiness, whose laughter is so inspiriting. It was, 
 moreover, the first really gay scene which had met Sigrid's 
 eyes for nearly a year, and she enjoyed to the full the 
 quaint little cavaliers, the tiny court ladies, with their pow- 
 dered hair and their patches ; the Red Riding-hood's and 
 Bo-peeps ; the fairies and the peasants ; the Robin Hoods 
 and Maid Marians. The dancing was going on merrily 
 when Mme. Lechertier was announced, and Sigrid looked 
 up with interest to see what the lady who was pronounced 
 to be " quite a character " was like. She was a tall and 
 wonderfully graceful woman, with an expressive but plain 
 face. In repose her expression was decidedly autocratic, 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 235 - 
 
 but she had a most charming smile, and a perfect manner. 
 The Norwegian girl took a great fancy to hei, and the feel- 
 ing was mutual, for the great Mme. Lechertier, who, it was 
 rumoured, was of a keenly critical disposition, instantly 
 noticed her, and turned to the hostess with an eager ques- 
 tion. 
 
 " What a charming face that golden-haired girl has ! '' 
 she said in her outspoken and yet courteous way. " With 
 all her simplicity there is such a pretty little touch of 
 dignity. See how perfect her bow is ! What is her name? 
 And may I not be introduced to her ? " 
 
 " She is a friend of my cousin's," explained Mrs. Horner, 
 glad to claim this sort of proprietorship in any one who had 
 called forth compliments from the lips of so critical a judge. 
 " She is Norwegian, and her name is Falck." 
 
 Sigrid liked the bright, clever, majestic-looking French 
 woman better than ever after she had talked with her. 
 There was, indeed, in Mme. Lechertier something very 
 refreshing. Her chief charm was that she was so utterly 
 unlike any one else. There was about her an individual- 
 ity that was really astonishing, and when you heard her 
 talk you felt the same keen sense of novelty and interest 
 that is awakened by the first sight of a foreign country. 
 She in her turn was enchanted by Sigrid's perfect natural- 
 ness and vivacity, and they had become fast friends, when 
 presently a pause in the music made them both look up. 
 
 The pianist, a pale, worn-looking lady, whose black silk 
 dress had an ominously shiny back, which told its tale of 
 poverty, all at once broke down, and her white face touched 
 Sigrid's heart. 
 
 " I think she is faint," she exclaimed. " Do you think I 
 might offer to play for her ? " 
 
 " It is a kind thought," said Mme. Lechertier, and she 
 watched with interest while the pretty Norwegian girl 
 hastened to the piano, and with a few hurried words relieved 
 the pianist, who beat a hasty retreat into the cooler air of 
 the hall. 
 
236 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 She played extremely well, and being herself a born dan- 
 cer, entered into the spirit of the waltz in a way which her 
 predecessor had wholly failed to do. Mine. Lechertier was 
 delighted, and when by and by Sigrid was released she 
 rejoined her, and refused to be borne off to the supper- 
 room by Mr. Horner. 
 
 " No, no," she said ; " let the little people be attended to 
 first. Miss Falck and I mean to have a quiet talk here." 
 
 So Sigrid told her something of her life at Bergen, and of 
 the national love of music and dancing, and thoroughly 
 interested her. 
 
 " And when do you return ? " asked Mme. Lechertier. 
 
 " That depends on whether I can find work in England," 
 replied Sigrid. " What I wish is to stay in London with 
 my brother. He has been very ill, and I do not think he 
 ought to live alone." 
 
 " What sort of work do you wish for ? " asked Mme. 
 Lechertier. 
 
 " I would do anything," said Sigrid. " But the worst of 
 it is everything is so crowded already, and I have no very 
 special talent." 
 
 11 My dear," said Mme. Lechertier, "it seems to me you 
 have a very decided talent. You play dance music better 
 than any one I ever heard, and that is saying a good deal. 
 Why do you not turn this to account ? " 
 
 " Do you think I could ? " asked Sigrid, her eyes light- 
 ing up eagerly. " Do you really think I could earn my 
 living by it ? " 
 
 " I feel sure of it," said Mme. Lechertier. " And if 
 you seriously think the idea is good I will come and discuss 
 the matter with you. I hear you are a friend of my old 
 pupil, Miss Boniface." 
 
 " Yes, we are staying now at Rowan Tree House ; they 
 have been so good to us." 
 
 " They are delightful people the father is one of nature's 
 true gentlemen. I shall come and see you, then, and talk 
 this over. To-morrow morning, if that will suit you." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 237 
 
 Sigrid went home in high spirits, and the next day, wAen 
 as usual she and Frithiof were alone in the morning room 
 after breakfast, she told him of Mme. Lechertier's proposal, 
 and while they were still discussing the matter the good 
 lady was announced. 
 
 Now, like many people, Mme. Lechertier was benevo- 
 lent by impulse. Had Sigrid been less attentive she would 
 not have gone out of her way to help her ; but the Norwe- 
 gian girl had somehow touched her heart. 
 
 " It will be a case of * Colours seen by candle-light will 
 Aot look the same by day,' " she had reflected as she 
 walked to Rowan Tree House. " I shall find my pretty 
 Norse girl quite commonplace and uninteresting, and my 
 castle in the air will fall in ruins." 
 
 But when she was shown into the room where Sigrid sat 
 at work, all her fears vanished. " The girl has bewitched 
 me ! " she thought to herself. " And the brother, what a 
 fine-looking fellow ! There is a history behind that face if 
 I'm not mistaken." 
 
 " We have just been talking over what you said to me 
 last night, madame," said Sigrid, brightly. 
 
 " The question is," said Mme. Lechertier, " whether you 
 are really in earnest in seeking work, and whether you 
 will not object to my proposal. The fact is, that the girl 
 who for some time has played for me at rny principal 
 classes is going to be married. I have, of course, another 
 assistant upon whom I can, if need be, fall back ; but she 
 does not satisfy me, we do not work well together, and her 
 playing is not to be compared to yours. I should only 
 need you in the afternoon, and during the three terms of 
 the year. Each term is of twelve weeks, and the salary I 
 should offer you would be twenty-four pounds a term 
 two pounds a week, you see." 
 
 " Oh, Frithiof ! " cried Sigrid, in great excitement, " we 
 should be able to keep Swanhild. We could have her over 
 from Norway. Surely your salary and mine together would 
 keep us all-?" 
 
238 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " Who is Swanhild ? " asked Mme. Lecliertier. 
 
 "She is our little sister, madarae. She is much younger 
 only eleven years old, and as we are orphans, Frithiof 
 and I are her guardians." 
 
 Mme. Lechertier looked at the two young faces, smil- 
 ing to think that they should be already burdened with the 
 cares of guardianship. It touched her, and yet at the same 
 time it was almost comical to hear these two young things 
 gravely talking about their ward. 
 
 " You see," said Frithiof, " there would be her education ; 
 we must not forget that." 
 
 " But at the high schools it is very cheap, is it not, 
 madame ? " said Sigrid. 
 
 " About ten pounds a year," said Mme. Lechertier. 
 " What is your little sister like, because if she is at all like 
 you " 
 
 " Here is her photograph," said Sigrid, unfastening her 
 writing-case and taking out Swanhild's picture. " This is 
 taken in her peasant costume which she used to wear 
 sometimes for fun when we were in the country. It suits 
 her very well, I think." 
 
 " But she is charming," cried Mme. Lechertier. " Such 
 a dainty little figure such well shaped legs ! My dear, I 
 have a bright thought an inspiration. Send for your little 
 Swanhild, and when you come to me each afternoon bring 
 her also in this fascinating costume. She shall be my 
 little pupil-teacher, and though, of course, her earnings 
 would, be but small, yet they would more than cover her 
 education at a high school, and she would be learning a 
 useful profession into the bargain." 
 
 She glanced at Frithiof and saw quite plainly that he 
 shrunk from the idea, and that it would go hard with his 
 proud nature to accept such an offer. She glanced at 
 Sigrid, and saw that the sister was ready to sacrifice any- 
 thing for the sake of getting the little girl to England. 
 Then, having as much tact as kindness, she rose to go. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 239 
 
 " You will talk it over between you and let me know 
 your decision," she said, pleasantly. " Consult Mr. and 
 Mrs. Boniface, and let me know in a day or two. Why 
 should you not come in to afternoon tea with me to-mor- 
 row, for I shall be at home for once, and can show you 
 my canaries ? Cecil will bring you. She and I are old 
 friends." 
 
 When she was gone Sigrid returned to the room with 
 dancing eyes. 
 
 " Is she not delightful ? " she cried. " For myself, 
 Frithiof, I can't hesitate for a moment. The work will be 
 easy, and she will be thoroughly kind." 
 
 " She has a bad temper," said Frithiof. 
 
 " How do you know ? " 
 
 " Because no sweet-tempered woman ever had such a 
 straight, thin-lipped mouth." 
 
 " I think you are very horrid to pick holes in her when 
 she has been so kind to us. For myself I must accept. 
 But how about Swanhild ? " 
 
 " I hate the thought for either of you," said Frithiof, 
 moodily. 
 
 Somehow, though his own descent in the social scale had 
 been disagreeable enough, yet it had not been so intoler- 
 able to him as this thought of work for his sisters. 
 
 " Now, Frithiof, don't go and be a goose about it," said 
 Sigrid, caressingly. " If we are ever to have a nice cozy 
 little home together we must certainly work at something, 
 and we are not likely to get lighter, or more congenial, or 
 better paid work than this. Come, dear, you have got, as 
 Lance would say, to grin and bear it.' " 
 
 He sighed. 
 
 " In any case, we must give Swanhild herself a voice in 
 the matter," he said at length. " Accept the offer if you 
 like, provisionally, and let us write to her and tell her 
 about it." 
 
 " Very well, we will write a joint letter and give her all 
 
240 A HARDY NORSEMAN'. 
 
 sorts cf guardianly advice. But, all the same, you know 
 as well as I do that Swanhild will not hesitate for a mo- 
 ment. She is dying to come to England, and she is never 
 so happy as when she is dancing." 
 
 Frithiof thought of that day long ago, when he had 
 come home after meeting the Morgans at the Bergen land- 
 ing quay, and had heard Sigrid playing as he walked up 
 the garden path, and nad found Swanhild dancing so 
 merrily with Lillo, and the old refrain that had haunted 
 him then returned to him now in bitter mockery : 
 
 " To-day is just a day to my mind ; 
 All sunny before and sunny behind, 
 Over the heather." 
 
 When Roy came home that evening the matter was 
 practically decided. Frithiof and Sigrid had had a long 
 talk in the library with Mr. and Mrs. Boniface, and by and 
 by in the garden, Sigrid told him gleefully what she called 
 the "good news." 
 
 " I can afford to laugh now at my aluminium pencils and 
 the embroidery patterns, and the poodle-shaving," she 
 said, gayly. " Was it not lucky that we happened to go to 
 Mrs. Homer's party, and that everything happened just as 
 it did ? " 
 
 " Do you really like the prospect ? " asked Roy. 
 
 "Indeed I do. I haven't felt so happy for months. 
 For now we need never again be parted from Frithiof. It 
 will be the best thing in the world for him to have a com- 
 fortable little home ; and I shall take good care that he 
 doesn't work too hard. Mr. Boniface has been so good. 
 He says that Frithiof can have some extra work to do if 
 he likes ; he can attend some of your concerts, and arrange 
 the platform between the pieces ; and this will add nicely 
 to his salary. And then, too, when he heard that I had 
 quite decided on accepting Madame Lechertier's offer, he 
 proposed something else for us too." 
 
 " What was that ? " said poor Roy, his heart sinking 
 down like lead. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 241 
 
 " Why, he thinks that he might get us engagements to 
 play at children's parties or small dances. Frithiof's 
 violin-playing is quite good enough, he says. And don't 
 you think it would be much better for him than poring so 
 long over that hateful work of Herr Sivertsen's ? " 
 
 Roy was obliged to assent. He saw only too clearly that 
 to speak to her now of his love would be utterly useless 
 indeed, worse than useless. She would certainly refuse 
 him, and there would be an end of the pleasant intercourse. 
 Moreover, it would be far more difficult to help them, as 
 they were now able to do in various small ways. 
 
 " Frithiof is rather down in the depths about it," said 
 Sigrid. " And I do hope you will cheer him up. After 
 all, it is very silly to think that there is degradation in any 
 kind of honest work. If you had known what it was to 
 live in dependence on relations for so long you would 
 understand how happy I am to-night. I, too, shall be 
 able to help in paying off the debts ! " 
 
 " Is her life also to be given up to that desperate 
 attempt ? " thought Roy, despondently. 
 
 And if Sigrid had not been absorbed in her own happy 
 thoughts, his depression, and perhaps the cause of it, would 
 have been apparent to her. But she strolled along the 
 garden path beside him, in blissful ignorance, thinking of 
 a busy, successful future, in which Roy Boniface played 
 no part at all. 
 
 She was his friend, she liked him heartily. But that was 
 all. Whether their friendship could ever now deepen into 
 love seemed doubtful. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 DURING the next few days Sigrid was absorbed in deep 
 calculations. She found that, exclusive of Swanhild's small 
 earnings, which would be absorbed by her education and 
 
2 4 2 A HARDY NORREMAN. 
 
 the few extras that might be needed, their actual yearly 
 income would be about one hundred and fifty pounds. 
 Frithiof s work for Herr Sivertsen, and whatever they might 
 earn by evening engagements, could be laid aside toward 
 the fund for paying off the debts, and she thought that 
 they might perhaps manage to live on the rest. Mrs. 
 Boniface seemed rather aghast at the notion, and said she 
 thought it impossible. 
 
 " I don't suppose that we shall spend as little on food 
 as Frithiof did when he was alone," said Sigrid, " for he 
 nearly starved himself; and I don't mean to allow him to 
 try that again. I see that the great difficulty will be rent, 
 for that seems so high in London. We were talking about 
 it this morning, and Frithiof had a bright idea. He says 
 there are some very cheap flats workmen's model lodg" 
 ings that might perhaps do for us ; only of course we 
 must make sure that they are quite healthy before we take 
 Swanhild there." 
 
 " Clean and healthy they are pretty sure to be," said 
 Mrs. Boniface, " but I fancy they have strict rules which 
 might be rather irksome to you. Still, we can go and 
 make inquiries. After all, you would in some ways be 
 better off than in ordinary lodgings, where you are at the 
 mercy of the landlady." 
 
 So that afternoon they went to an office where they could 
 get information as to model dwellings, and found that 
 four rooms could be obtained in some of them at the rate 
 of seven and sixpence a week. At this their spirits rose 
 not a little, and they drove at once to a block which was 
 within fairly easy distance both to the shop and of the 
 rooms in which Mme. Lechertier gave her afternoon 
 dancing-classes. 
 
 To outward view the model dwellings were certainly not 
 attractive. The great high houses with their uniform ugly 
 colour, the endless rows of windows, all precisely alike, the 
 asphalt court-yard in the center, though tidy and clean, had 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 243 
 
 a desolate look. Still, when you realised that one might 
 live in such a place for so small a sum, and thought of 
 many squalid streets where the rental would be twice as 
 high, it was more easy to appreciate these eminently 
 respectable lodgings. 
 
 "At present we have no rooms to let, sir," was the 
 answer of the superintendent to Frithiof s inquiry. 
 
 Their spirits sunk, but rose again when he added, ' ; I 
 think, though, we are almost certain to have a set vacant 
 before long." 
 
 " Could we see over them? " they asked. 
 
 " Well, the set that will most likely be vacant belong to 
 a north-country family, and I dare say they would let you 
 look in. There is one of the children. Here, Jessie, ask 
 your mother if she would mind just showing her rooms, 
 will you ? " 
 
 The child, glancing curiously at the visitors, led the way 
 up flight after flight of clean stone stairs, past wide-open 
 windows, through which the September wind blew freshly, 
 then down a long passage until at length she reached a 
 door, which she threw open to announce their advent. A 
 pleasant-looking woman came forward and asked them to 
 step in. 
 
 "You'll excuse the place being a bit untidy," she said. 
 " My man has just got fresh work, and he has but now 
 told me we shall have to be flitting in a week's time. We 
 are going to Compton Buildings in the Goswell Road." 
 
 After Rowan Tree House, the rooms, of course, felt tiny, 
 and they were a good deal blocked up with furniture, to 
 say nothing of five small children who played about in the 
 kitchen. But the place was capitally planned, every inch 
 was turned to account, and Sigrid thought they might live 
 there very comfortably. She talked over sundry details 
 with the present owner. 
 
 " There's but one thing, miss, I complain of, and that is 
 that they don't put in another cupboard or two," said the 
 
244 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 good woman. " Give me another cupboard and I should 
 be quite content. But you see, miss, there's always a some- 
 thing that you'd like to alter, go where you will." 
 
 " I wonder," said Sigrid, " if we took them, whether I 
 could pay one of the neighbours to do my share in sweep- 
 ing and scrubbing the stairs, and whether I could get them 
 to scrub out these rooms once a week. You see, I don't 
 think I could manage the scrubbing very well." 
 
 " Oh, miss, there would be no difficulty in that," said 
 the woman. " There's many that would be thankful to 
 earn a little that way, and the same with laundry work. 
 You won't find no difficulty in getting that done. There's 
 Mrs. Hallifield in the next set, she would be glad enough 
 to do it, I know, and you couldn't have a pleas^nter neigh- 
 bour ; she's a bit lonesome, poor thing, with her husband 
 being so much away. He's a tram-car man, he is, and gets 
 terrible long hours week-day and Sunday alike." 
 
 Owing to the good woman's north-country accent Sigrid 
 had not been able quite to follow this last speech, but she 
 understood enough to awaken in her a keen curiosity, and 
 to show her that their new life might have plenty of human 
 interest in it. She looked out of one of the windows at 
 the big square of houses, and tried to picture the hundreds 
 of lives which were being lived in them. 
 
 " Do you know, I begin to like this great court-yard," 
 she said to Cecil. " At first it looked to me dreary, but 
 now it looks to me like a great, orderly human hive ; there 
 is something about it that makes one feel industrious." 
 
 li We will settle down here, then " said Frithiof, smiling j 
 " and you shall be queen bee." 
 
 " You think it would not hurt Swanhild ? " asked Sigrid, 
 turning to Mrs. Boniface, " the place seems to me beauti- 
 ful anyway." 
 
 " Indeed," said Mrs. Boniface, <c I think in many ways 
 the place is most comfortable, and certainly you could not 
 do better, unless you gave a very much higher rent." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 245 
 
 But nevertheless she sighed a little, for though she 
 admired the resolute way in which these two young things 
 set to work to make the best of their altered life, yet she 
 could not help feeling that they scarcely realised how long 
 and tedious must be the process of slowly economising on 
 a narrow income until the burden which they had taken on 
 their shoulders could at length be removed. Even to try 
 to pay off debts which must be reckoned by thousands out 
 of precarious earnings which would be counted by slow 
 and toilsome units, seemed to her hopeless. Her kind, 
 gentle nature was without that fiber of dauntless resolu- 
 tion which strengthened the characters of the two Norwe- 
 gians. She did not understand that the very difficulty of 
 the task incited them to make the attempt, nerved them 
 for the struggle, and stimulated them to that wonderful 
 energy of patience which overcomes everything. 
 
 As for Sigrid, she was now in her element. A true 
 woman, she delighted in the thought of having rooms of 
 her own to furnish and arrange. She thought of them by 
 day, she dreamed of them by night ; she pored over store 
 lists and furniture catalogues, and amused them all by her 
 comments. 
 
 " Beds are ruinously dear," she said, after making elabo- 
 rate calculations. " We must have three really comfort- 
 able ones since we mean to work hard all day, and they 
 must certainly be new ; the three of them with all their 
 belongings will not leave very much out of twelve pounds, 
 I fear. But then as to chairs and tables they might well 
 be second-hand, and we won't go in for a single luxury ; it 
 will look rather bare, but then there will be less trouble 
 about cleaning and dusting." 
 
 "You will become such a domestic character that we 
 sha'n't know you," said Frithiof, laughing. " What do you 
 think we can possibly furnish the rooms on ? " 
 
 " Wait a moment and I'll add up my list," she said, 
 cheerfully. " I never knew before how many things there 
 
246 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 were in a house that one can't do well without. Now that 
 must surely be all. No, I have forgotten brushes and 
 brooms and such things. Now then for the adding up. 
 You check me, Cecil, for fear I make it too little this 
 is a terrible moment." 
 
 " Twenty-eight pounds ! " exclaimed both girls in a 
 breath. 
 
 " You can surely never do it on that? " said Cecil. 
 
 " It seems a great deal to me," said Sigrid ; " still, I 
 have more than that over from uncle's fifty-pound check, 
 even after Doctor Morris is paid. No, on the whole, I 
 think we need not worry, but may spend as much as that 
 with a clear conscience. The thing I am anxious about is 
 my weekly bill. Look here, we must somehow manage to 
 live on one hundred and forty-five pounds a year, that will 
 leave five pounds in case of illness or any great need. For 
 charity it leaves nothing, but we can't give while we are 
 in debt. Two pounds fifteen shillings a week for three of 
 us ! Why, poor people live on far less." 
 
 " But then you are accustomed to such a different way 
 of living," said Cecil. 
 
 "That's true. But still, I think it can somehow be 
 done. You must still go on with your sixpenny dinners, 
 Frithiof, for it will fit in better. Then as you and Swan- 
 hild will be out all day, and I am out for a great part of the 
 year in the afternoon, I think our coals will last well, only 
 one fire for part of the day will surely not ruin us." 
 
 " Let me see that neatly arranged paper," said Frithiof. 
 tl I have become rather a connoisseur in the matter of 
 cheap living, and you had better take me into your coun- 
 sels." 
 
 " You don't know anything about it," said Sigrid laugh- 
 ing. " Yours was not cheap living but cheap starving, 
 which in the end is a costly affair." 
 
 Frithiof did not argue the point, having in truth often 
 known what hunger meant in the old days ; but he pos- 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 247 
 
 sessed himself of the paper and studied it carefully. It 
 contained for him much more than the bare details, it was 
 full of a great hope, of an eager expectation, the smallness 
 of each item represented a stepping-stone in the highway 
 of honour, a daily and hourly clearing of his father's name. 
 He looked long at the carefully considered list : 
 
 s. d. 
 
 Food I 2 o 
 
 Rent 076 
 
 Fuel and Light o 2 o 
 
 Laundress o 5 .o 
 
 Charwoman o 3 o 
 
 Clothing o 14 o 
 
 Extras o I 6 
 
 Total 2 15 o 
 
 " With a clever manager it will be quite possible," he 
 said, " and you are no novice, Sigrid, but have been keep- 
 ing house for the last eleven years." 
 
 " After a fashion," she replied, " but old Gro really 
 managed things. However, I know that I shall really 
 enjoy trying my hand at anything so novel, and you will 
 have to come and see me very often, Cecil, to prevent my 
 turning into a regular housekeeping drudge." 
 
 Cecil laughed and promised, and the two girls talked 
 merrily together as they stitched away at the household 
 linen, Frithiof looking up from his newspaper every now 
 and then to listen. Things had so far brightened with 
 him that he was ready to take up his life again with 
 patience, but he had his days of depression even now, 
 though, for Sigrid's sake, he tried not to give way more than 
 could be helped. There was no denying, however, that 
 Blanche had clouded his life, and though he never men- 
 tioned her name, and as far as possible crowded the very 
 thought of her out of his mind, resolutely turning to work, 
 or books, or the lives of others, yet her influence was still 
 strong with him, and was one of the worst foes he had to 
 fight against. It was constantly mocking him with the 
 
248 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 vanity of human hopes, with the foolishness of his perfect 
 trust which had been so grossly betrayed; it was an 
 eternal temptation to think less highly of women, to take 
 refuge in cynical contempt, and to sink into a hard joylesr 
 skepticism. 
 
 On the other hand, Sigrid, as his sister, and Cecil, as a 
 perfectly frank and outspoken friend, were no small help to 
 him in the battle. They could not altogether enter into 
 his thoughts, or wholly understand the loneliness and bit- 
 terness of his life, any more than he could enter into their 
 difficulties, for, even when surrounded by those we love, it 
 is almost true that 
 
 " Our hermit spirits dwell and range apart." 
 
 But they made life a very different thing to him and gave 
 him courage to go on, for they were a continual protest 
 against that lowered side of womanhood that Blanche had 
 revealed to him. One woman having done her best to ruin 
 the health alike of his body and his soul, it remained for 
 these two to counteract her bad influence, and to do for 
 him all that can be done by sisterly love and pure, unselfish 
 friendship. 
 
 If there is one thing more striking to an observer of life 
 than any other, it is the strange law of compensation, and 
 its wholly unexpected working. We see people whose 
 lives are smooth and easy rendered miserable by some 
 very trifling cause. And, again, we see people whose 
 griefs and wrongs are heart-rending, and behold, in spite 
 of their sorrows, they can take pleasure in some very slight 
 amusement, which seems to break into their darkened lives 
 with a welcome brightness enhanced by contrast. It was 
 thus with Frithiof. He entered, as men seldom trouble 
 themselves to enter, into all the minutiae of the furnishing, 
 spent hours in Roy's work-shop busy at the carpenter's 
 bench over such things as could be made or mended, and 
 enjoyed heartily the planning and arranging which a year 
 aeo he would have voted an intolerable bore. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 249 
 
 At length the day came when they were to leave Rowan 
 Tree House. Every one was sorry to lose them, and they 
 felt going very much, for it was impossible to express how 
 much those restful weeks had done for them both. They 
 each tried to say something of the sort to Mr. and Mrs. 
 Boniface, but not very successfully, for Sigrid broke down 
 and cried, and Frithiof felt that to put very deep gratitude 
 into words is a task which might well baffle the readiest 
 speaker. However, there was little need for speech on 
 either side. 
 
 " And when you want change or rest," said Mrs. Boni- 
 face, shaking his hand warmly, " you have only got to lock 
 up your rooms and come down here to us. There will 
 always be a welcome ready for the three of you. Don't 
 forget that." 
 
 " Let it be your second home," said Mr. Boniface. 
 
 Cecil, who was the one to feel most, said least. She 
 merely shook hands with him, made some trifling remark 
 about the time of Swanhild's train, and wished him good- 
 bye ; then, with a sore heart, watched the brother and sis- 
 ter as they stepped into the carriage and drove away. 
 
 That chapter of her life was over, and she was quite well 
 aware that the next chapter would seem terribly dull and 
 insipid. For a moment the thought alarmed her. 
 
 " What have I been doing ? " she said to herself, " to let 
 this love get so great a hold on me ? Why is it that no 
 other man in the world seems to me worth a thought, even 
 though he may be better, and may live a nobler life than 
 Frithiof? " 
 
 She could not honestly blame herself, for it seemed to 
 her that this strange love had, as the poet says, " Slid 
 into her soul like light." Unconsciously it had begun at 
 their very first meeting on the steamer at Bergen ; it had 
 caused that vague trouble and uneasiness which had seized 
 her at Balholm, and had sprung into conscious existence 
 when Frithiof had come to them in England poor, heart- 
 
*5o A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 broken, and despairing. The faithlessness of another 
 woman had revealed to her the passionate devotion which 
 surged in her own heart, and during these weeks of close 
 companionship her love had deepened inexpressibly. She 
 faced these facts honestly, with what Mrs. Horner would 
 have termed " an entire absence of maiden propriety." 
 For luckily Cecil was not in the habit of marshaling her 
 thoughts into the prim routine prescribed by the world in 
 general ; she had deeper principles to fall back upon than 
 the conventionalities of such women as Mrs. Horner, and 
 she did not think it well either wilfully to blind herself to 
 the truth, or to cheat her heart into believing a lie. Quite 
 quietly she admitted to herself that she loved Frithiof ; 
 with a pain which it was impossible to ignore, she allowed 
 that he did not love her, and that it was quite possible 
 nay, highly probable that she might never be fit to be 
 more to him than a friend. 
 
 Here were the true facts, and she must make the best 
 she could of them. The thought somehow braced her up. 
 Was "the best" to sit there in her room sobbing as if 
 her heart would break ? How could her tears serve Fri- 
 thiof? How could they do anything but weaken her own 
 character and unfit her for work ? They did not even 
 relieve her, for such pain is to be relieved, not by tears, 
 but by active life. No ; she must just go on living and 
 making the most of what had been given her, leaving the 
 rest 
 
 "In His high hand 
 Who doth hearts like streams command." 
 
 For her faith was no vague shadow, but a most practical 
 reality, and in all her pains she was certain that somehow 
 this love of hers was to be of use, as all real love is bound 
 to be. She stood for some minutes at the open window ; 
 a bird was perched on a tree close by, and she watched it 
 and noticed how, when suddenly it flew away, the branch 
 quivered and trembled. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 251 
 
 "It is after all only natural to feel this going away," she 
 reflected. " Like the tree, I shall soon grow steady again." 
 And then she heard Lance's voice calling her, and, going 
 to the nursery, found a childish dispute in need of settling, 
 and tiny arms to cling about her, and soft kisses to com- 
 fort her. 
 
 Meanwhile, Frithiof and Sigrid had reached the model 
 lodgings, and, key in hand, were toiling up the long flights 
 of stone stairs. All had been arranged on the previous day, 
 and now, as they unlocked their door, the moment seemed 
 to them a grave one, for they were about to begin a new 
 and unknown life. Sigrid's heart beat quickly as they en- 
 tered the little sitting-room. The door opened straight into 
 it, which was a drawback, but Mrs. Boniface's present of 
 a fourfold Japanese screen gave warmth and privacy, and 
 picturesqueness, by shutting off that corner from view ; and, 
 in spite of extreme economy in furnishing, the place looked 
 very pretty. A cheerful crimson carpet covered the floor; 
 the buff-coloured walls were bare indeed, for there was a 
 rule against knocking in nails, but the picture of Bergen 
 stood on the mantel-piece between the photographs of their 
 father and mother, serving as a continual remembrance of 
 home and of a countryman's kindness. Facing the fire 
 was a cottage piano lent by Mr. Boniface for as long as 
 they liked to keep it, and on the open shelves above a 
 corner cupboard were ranged the blue willow-pattern cups 
 and saucers which Sigrid had delighted in buying. 
 
 " They were much too effective to be banished to the 
 kitchen, were they not ? " she said. " I am sure they are 
 far prettier than a great deal of the rare old china I have 
 seen put up in drawing-rooms." 
 
 " How about the fire ? " said Frithiof. " Shall I light 
 it?" 
 
 " Yes ; do. We must have a little one to boil the kettle, 
 and Swanhild is sure to come in cold after that long jour- 
 ney. I'll just put these flowers into Cecil's little vases. 
 
252 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 How lovely they are ! Do you know, Frithiof. I think 
 our new life is going to be like the smell of these chrys- 
 anthemums healthy and good, and a sort of bitter-sweet." 
 
 " I never knew they had any smell," he said, still intent 
 on his fire. 
 
 k Live and learn," said Sigrid, laughingly, holding out to 
 him the basket of beautiful flowers red, white, crimson^ 
 yellow, russet, and in every variety. 
 
 He owned that she was right. And just as with the 
 ^cent of violets there always rose before lum th, picture of 
 the crowded church, and of Blanr 1 - j in ^er bridal dress, so 
 r/er after the scent of the chrymr hemums brought back 
 *.o Mm the bright little room and the flickering ligrt of the 
 newly kindled fire, and Sigrid's golden hair and sweet face. 
 So that, in truth, these flowers were tc Mm a sort of tonic, 
 as she had said. " Healthy and good/' 
 
 " I should lz M "e to come to King's Cross loo," said Sig::id. 
 " But perhaps it is better that I should stay here and get 
 things quite ready. I hope Swanhild will turn up aJ 
 right. She seems such a little thing to travel ail that way 
 alone." 
 
 When he had set off, she began with great satisfaction 
 to lay the table for tea ; the -vhite cloth was certainly coarse , 
 but she had bought it and hmmed it, and declare^ that 
 fine damask would not have suited the willow-pattern plates 
 nearly so well. Then, after a struggle, the tin of pressed 
 beef was opened, and the loaf and butter and the vase? V 
 chrysanthemums put in their places, and the toast ma.de 
 and standing before the fire to keep hot. After that she 
 kept putting a touch here and a touch there to one thing 
 and another, and then standing back to see how it looked, 
 much as an artist does when finishing a picture. Hew 
 would it strike Swanhild? was the thought which was 
 always with her. She put everything tidy in the bare little 
 kitchen, where, in truth, there was not one unnecessary 
 piece of furniture. She took some of Frithiof s things out 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 255 
 
 of his portmanteau, and made his narrow little bedroom 
 look more habitable ; and she lingered long in the room 
 with the two beds side by side, tidying and arranging 
 busily, but running back into the sitting-room every few 
 minutes to see that all was well there. 
 
 At last she heard the door handle turned, and Frithiof s 
 voice. 
 
 " You'll find her quite a domesticated character," he was 
 saying ; and in another minute Swanhild was in her arms, 
 none the worse for her lonely journey, but very glad to feel 
 her cares at an end. 
 
 "Oh, Sigrid!" she cried, with child-like glee; " what a 
 dear, funny little room ! And how cozy you have made it ! 
 Why, there's the picture of Bergen ! and oh, what a pretty- 
 looking tea-table ! I'm dreadfully hungry, Sigrid. I was 
 afraid to get out of the train for fear it should go on. 
 They seem to go so dreadfully fast here, everything is in a 
 bustle." 
 
 " You poor child, you must be starving ! " cried Sigrid. 
 " Come and take your things off quickly. She really looks 
 quite thin and pale, does she not, Frithiof? " 
 
 He glanced at the fair, merry little face smiling at him 
 from under its fringe of golden hair. 
 
 " She doesn't feel so very bony," he said, laughing. 
 
 "Oh, and I did eat something," explained Swanhild. 
 <; There was an old lady who gave me two sandwiches, 
 but they were so dreadfully full of fat. I do really think 
 there ought to be a law against putting fat in sandwiches 
 so that you bite a whole mouthful of it." 
 
 They all laughed, and Frithiof, who was unstrapping the 
 box which he had carried up, looked so cheerful and bright, 
 that Sigrid began to think Swanhild might prove a very 
 valuable little companion. 
 
 " What do you think of your new bedroom ? " he asked. 
 
 " It's lovely ! " cried Swanhild. " What a funny, round 
 bath, and such a tiny tin washing-stand, just like the one in 
 
254 A PIARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 the old doll's house on three legs. And oh, Sigrid, auntie 
 has sent us three lovely eider-down quilts as a Christmas 
 present, only she thought I might as well bring them now." 
 
 It was a very merry meal, that first tea in the model 
 lodgings. Swanhild had so much to tell them and so much 
 to hear, and they lingered at the table with a pleasant 
 consciousness that actual work did not begin till the follow- 
 ing day. 
 
 " There's one thing which we had better make up our 
 minds to at once," said Sigrid, when at length they rose. 
 " Since we have got to wait on ourselves, we may as well 
 try to enjoy it and get what fun we can out of it. Come, 
 Swanhild, I will wash the tea-things and you shall dry 
 them." 
 
 " As for me," said Frithiof, suddenly appearing at the 
 kitchen door in his shirt sleeves, " I am shoe black to the 
 establishment." 
 
 "You! oh, Frithiof!" cried Swanhild, startled into 
 gravity. There was something incongruous in the idea of 
 her big brother turning to this sort of work. 
 
 " I assure you it is in the fyond," he said, smiling. 
 " Sigrid is cook and housekeeper ; you are the lady-help . 
 and I am the man for the coals, knives, and boots. Every 
 respectable household has a man for that part of the work, 
 you know." 
 
 " Yes , yes," she hesitated ; " but you" 
 
 " She clearly doesn't think me competent," he said, laugh- 
 ingly threatening her with his brush. 
 
 " Order ! order ! you two, or there will be tea-cup s 
 broken," said Sigrid laughing. " I believe he will do the 
 boots quite scientifically, for he has really studied the sub- 
 ject. There, put the china in the sitting-room, Swanhild, 
 on the corner shelves, and then we will come and unpack." 
 
 By nine o'clock everything was arranged, and they came 
 back to the sitting-room, where Frithiof had lighted the 
 pretty little lamp, and was writing to Herr Sivertsen to say 
 he would be glad of more work. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 255 
 
 " Come," said Sigrid, " the evening won't be complete 
 without some music, and I am dying to try that piano. 
 What shall be the first thing we play in our new home, 
 Swanhild ? " 
 
 " ' For Norge,' " said the little girl, promptly. 
 
 " Do you know we had quite a discussion about that at 
 Rowan Tree House the other night," said Sigrid. "They 
 were all under the impression that it was an English air, 
 and only knew it as a glee called ' The Hardy Norseman.' 
 Mr. Boniface calls Frithiof his Hardy Horseman because 
 he got well so quickly." 
 
 u Come and sing, Frithiof, do come," pleaded Swanhild, 
 slipping her hand caressingly into his and drawing him 
 toward the piano. And willingly enough he consented, 
 *nd in their new home in this foreign land, they sung 
 together the stirring national song : 
 
 " To Norway, mother of the brave, 
 We crown the cup of pleasure, 
 And dream our freedom come* again, 
 And grasp the vanished treasure. 
 When once the mighty task's begun, 
 The glorious race is swift to run ; 
 To Norway, mother of the brave, 
 We crown the cup of pleasure. 
 ***** 
 
 " Then drink to Norway's hills sublime, 
 Rocks, snows, and glens profound ; 
 ' Success ! ' her thousand echoes cry, 
 And thank us with the sound. 
 Old Dovre mingles with our glee, 
 And joins our shouts with three times three, 
 Then drink to Norway's hills sublime, 
 Rocks, snows, and glens profound." 
 
256 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 " MY dear, she is charming, your little Swanhild ! She 
 is a born dancer, and catches up everything with the 
 greatest ease," said Mme. Lechertier one autumn afternoon, 
 when Sigrid at the usual time entered the big, bare room 
 where the classes were held. She was dressed at madame's 
 request in her pretty peasant costume, and Swanhild, also, 
 had for the first time donned hers, which, unlike Sigrid's, 
 was made with the shortest of skirts, and, as Mme. Lecher- 
 tier said, would prove an admirable dress for a pupil- 
 teacher. 
 
 " You think she will really be of use to you, madame ? " 
 asked Sigrid, glancing to the far end of the big room, where 
 the child was, fof her own amusement, practising a step 
 which she had just learned. " If she is no good we should 
 not of course like her to take any money." 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Mme. Lechertier, patting her on the 
 shoulder caressingly. "You are independent and proud, 
 I know it well enough. But I assure you, Swanhild will 
 be a first-rate little teacher, and I am delighted to have her. 
 There is no longer any need for her to come to me every 
 morning, for I have taught her all that she will at present 
 need, and no doubt you are in a hurry for her to go 
 on with her ordinary schooling." 
 
 " I have arranged for her to go to a high school in the 
 mornings, after Christmas," said Sigrid, " and she must, 
 till then, work well at her English or she will not take a 
 good place. It will be a very busy life for her, but then we 
 are all of us strong and able to get through a good deal." 
 
 " And her work with me is purely physical and will not 
 overtask her," said madame, glancing with approving eyes 
 
A PIARDY NORSEMAN. 257 
 
 at the pretty little figure at the end of the room. " Dear 
 little soul ! she has the most perfect manners I ever saw in 
 a child ! Her charm to me is that she is so bright and 
 unaffected. What is it, I wonder, that makes you Norwe- 
 gians so spontaneous, so perfectly simple and courteous ? " 
 
 " In England," said Sigrid, "people seem to me to have 
 two sides, a rough home side, and a polite society side. 
 The Bonifaces reverse the prder and keep their beautiful 
 side for home and a rather shy side for society, but still 
 they, like all the English people I have met, have distinctly 
 two manners. In Norway there is nothing of that. I 
 think perhaps we think less about the impression we are 
 making ; and I think Norwegians more naturally respect 
 each other." 
 
 She was quite right ; it was this beautiful respect, this 
 reverence for the rights and liberties of each other that 
 made the little home in the model lodgings so happy ; 
 while her own sunny brightness and sweetness of temper 
 made the atmosphere wholesome. Frithiof, once more 
 amid congenial surroundings, seemed to regain his native 
 courtesy, and though Mr. Horner still disliked him, most 
 of those with whom he daily came in contact learned at any 
 rate to respect him, and readily forgave him his past pride 
 and haughtiness when they learned how ill he had been and 
 saw what a change complete recovery had wrought in him. 
 
 Swanhild prospered well on that first Saturday afternoon, 
 and Mme. Lechertier was quite satisfied with her little idea 
 as to the Norwegian costumes ; the pretty foreigner at the 
 piano, and the dainty little Norse girl who danced so be- 
 witchingly, caused quite a sensation in the class, and the 
 two sisters went home in high spirits, delighted to have 
 pleased their kind-hearted employer. They had only just 
 returned and taken off their walking things when there 
 came a loud knock at the door. Swanhild still in her Har- 
 danger dress ran to see what was wanted, and could hardly 
 
 9 
 
258 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 help laughing at the funny-looking old man who inquired 
 whether Frithiof were in. 
 
 " Still out, you say," he panted ; " very provok'ng. I 
 specially wanted to see him on a matter of urgency." 
 
 " Will you not come in and wait ? " said the child. 
 " Frithiof will soon be home." 
 
 " Thank you," said old Herr Sivertsen. " These stairs 
 are terrible work. I shall be glad not to have to climb them 
 again. But houses are all alike in London all alike ! 
 Story after story, till they're no better than the Tower of 
 Babel." 
 
 Sigrid came forward with her pretty, bright greeting and 
 made the old man sit down by the fire. 
 
 " Frithiof has gone for a walk with a friend of his," she 
 explained. "But he will be home in a few minutes. I 
 always persuade him to take a good walk on Saturday if 
 possible." 
 
 " In consequence of which he doesn't get through half 
 as much work for me," said Herr Sivertsen. " However, 
 you are quite right. He needed more exercise. Is he 
 quite well again ? " 
 
 " Quite well, thank you ; though I suppose he will never 
 be so strong as he once was," she said a little sadly. 
 " You see, overwork and trouble and poor living must in 
 the long run injure even a strong man." 
 
 " There are no strong men nowadays, it seems to me," 
 said the old author, gruffly. " They all knock up sooner 
 or later a degenerate race a worthless generation." 
 
 " Well, the doctor says, he must have had a very fine 
 constitution to have recovered so fast," said Sigrid. " Still, 
 I feel rather afraid sometimes of his doing too much again. 
 Were you going to suggest some more work for him ? " 
 
 " Yes, I was ; but perhaps it is work in which you could 
 help him," said Herr Sivertsen, and he explained to her 
 his project. 
 
 " If only I could make time for it," she cried. " But 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 259 
 
 you see we all have very busy lives. I have to see to the 
 house almost entirely, and there is always either mending 
 or making in hand. And Swanhild and I are out every 
 afternoon at Madame Lechertier's academy. By-the-bye, 
 that is why we have on these peasant costumes, which must 
 have surprised you." 
 
 " It is a pretty dress, and takes me back to my old days 
 at home," said Herr Sivertsen. " As to the work, do what 
 you can of it, there is no immediate hurry. Here comes 
 your brother ! " and the old man at once button-holed 
 Frithiof, while Roy, who had returned with him, was ready 
 enough to talk with Sigrid as she stood by the fire making 
 toast, little Swanhild in the meantime setting the table for 
 afternoon tea, lighting the lamp, and drawing the curtains. 
 
 Herr Sivertsen found himself drinking tea before he 
 knew what he was about, and the novelty of the little 
 household quite shook him out of his gruff surliness. 
 Strange by-gone memories came floating back to him as he 
 listened to the two girls' merry talk, watched them as 
 suddenly they broke into an impromptu dance, and begged 
 of them to sing to him the old tunes which for so many 
 years he had not heard. 
 
 " I am sorry to say," observed Sigrid, laughing, " that our 
 next-door neighbour, Mrs. Hallifield, tells me that the 
 general belief in the house is that we belong to the Christy 
 Minstrels. English people don't seem to understand that 
 one can dance and sing at home for pure pleasure and not 
 professionally." 
 
 After that the old author often paid them a visit, and 
 they learned to like him very much, and to enjoy his tirades 
 against the degenerate modern race. And thus with hard 
 work, enlivened now and then by a visit to Rowan Tree 
 House, or by a call from the Bonifaces, the winter slipped 
 by, and the trees grew green once more, and they were 
 obliged to own that even this smoky London had a beauty 
 all its own. 
 
260 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " Did you ever see anything so lovely as all this pink 
 may and yellow laburnum ? " cried Sigrid, as one spring 
 evening she and Frithiof walked westward to fulfil one of 
 the evening engagements to which they had now become 
 pretty well accustomed. 
 
 " No ; we had nothing equal to this at Bergen," he ad- 
 mitted, and in very good spirits they walked on, past the 
 great wealthy houses ; he with his violin-case, and she with 
 a big roll of music, well content with the success they had 
 worked hard to win, and not at all disposed to envy the 
 West End people. It was indeed a great treat to Sigrid 
 to hav % e a glimpse of so different a life. She had toiled so 
 often up the long stone stairs, that to be shown up a wide 
 carpeted staircase, into which one's feet seemed to sink as 
 into moss, was a delightful change, and snugly ensconced 
 in her little corner behind the piano, she liked to watch 
 the prettily decorated rooms and the arrival of the gayly 
 dressed people. Frithiof, who had at first greatly disliked 
 this sort of work, had become entirely accustomed to it ; 
 it no longer hurt his pride, for Sigrid had nearly succeeded 
 in converting him to her doctrine, that a noble motive en- 
 nobles any work ; and if ever things annoyed him or chafed 
 his independence, he thought of the debts at Bergen, and 
 was once more ready to endure anything. This evening 
 he happened to be particularly cheerful ; things had gone 
 well lately at the shop ; his strength was increasing every 
 day, and the home atmosphere had done a great deal to 
 banish the haunting thoughts of the past which in solitude 
 had so preyed on his mind. They discussed the people in 
 Norwegian during the intervals, and in a quiet way were 
 contriving to get a good deal of fun out of the evening, 
 when suddenly their peace was invaded by the unexpected 
 sight of the very face which Frithiof had so strenuously 
 tried to exile from his thoughts. They had just finished a 
 waltz. Sigrid looked up from her music and saw, only a 
 few yards distant from her, the pretty willowy figure, the 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 261 
 
 glowing face and dark eyes and siren-like smile of Lady 
 Romiaux. For a moment her heart seemed to stop beat- 
 ing, then with a wild hope that possibly Frithiof might not 
 have noticed her, she turned to him with intense anxiety. 
 But his profile looked as if it were carved in white stone, 
 and she saw only too plainly that the hope was utterly 
 vain. 
 
 " Frithiof," she said in Norwegian, " you are faint. Go 
 out into the cool and get some water before the next 
 dance." 
 
 He seemed to hear her voice, but not to take in her 
 words there was a dazed look in his face, and such des- 
 pair in his eyes that her heart failed her. All the terrible 
 dread for his health again returned to her. It seemed as 
 if nothing could free him from the fatal influence which 
 Blanche had gained over him. 
 
 How she longed to get up and rush from the house ! 
 How she loathed that woman who stood flirting with the 
 empty-headed man standing at her side ! If it had not 
 been for her perfidy how different all might now be ! 
 
 " I can't help hating her ! " thought poor Sigrid. " She 
 has ruined Frithiof s life, and now in one moment has un- 
 done the work of months. She brought about my father's 
 failure ; if she had been true we should not now be toiling 
 to pay off these terrible debts hundreds of homes in Ber- 
 gen would have been saved from a cruel loss and he my 
 father he might have been alive and well ! How can I 
 help hating her ? " 
 
 At that moment Blanche happened to catch sight of 
 them. The colour deepened in her cheeks. 
 
 " Have they come to that ? " she thought. " Oh, poor 
 things ! How sorry I am for them ? Papa told me that 
 Herr Falck had failed ; but to have sunk so low ! Well, 
 since they lost all their money it was a mercy that all was 
 over between us. And yet, if I had been true to him" 
 
 Her companion wondered what made her so silent all at 
 
262 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 once. But in truth poor Blanche might well be silent, for 
 into her mind there flashed a dreadful vision of past 
 sins ; standing there in the ball-room in her gay satin dress 
 and glittering diamonds, there had come to her almost for 
 the first time a sense of responsibility for the evil she had 
 wrought. It was not Frithiofs life alone that she had 
 rendered miserable. She had sinned far more deeply 
 against her husband, and though in a sort of bravado she 
 tried to persuade herself that she cared for nothing, and 
 accepted the invitations sent her by the people who would 
 still receive her at their houses, she was all the time most 
 wretched. So strangely had good and evil tendencies 
 been mingled in her nature that she caught herself won- 
 dering sometimes whether she really was one woman ; she 
 had her refined side and her vulgar side ; she could be one 
 day tender-hearted and penitent, and the next day a hard 
 woman of the world ; she could atone time be the Blanche 
 of that light-hearted Norwegian holiday, and at another 
 the Lady Romiaux of notoriety. 
 
 " How extraordinary that I should chance to meet my 
 Viking here ! " she thought to herself. " How very much 
 older he looks ! How very much his face has altered ! 
 One would have thought that to come down in the world 
 would have cowed him a little ; but it seems somehow to 
 have given him dignity. I positively feel afraid of him. 
 I, who could once turn him round my finger I, for whom 
 he would have died ! How ridiculous of me to be afraid ! 
 After all, I could soon get my old power over him if I 
 chose to try. I will go and speak to them ; it will be rude 
 not to notice them in their new position, poor things." 
 
 With a word of explanation^ to her partner she hastily 
 crossed over to the piano. But when she met Frithiofs 
 eyes her heart began to beat painfully, and once more the 
 feeling of fear returned to her. He looked very grave, 
 very sad, very determined. The greeting which she had 
 intended to speak died away on her lips ; instead, she 
 said, rather falteringly : 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 263 
 
 " Will rou tell me the name of the last waltz ? " 
 
 He bo*>ed, and began to turn over the pile of music to 
 find the piece. 
 
 " Frithiof," she whispered, " have you forgotten me ? 
 Have you nothing to say to me ? " 
 
 But he made as though he did not hear her, gravely 
 handed her the music, then, turning away, took up his 
 violin and signed to Sigrid to begin the next dance. 
 
 Poor Blanche was eagerly claimed by her next partner, 
 and with burning cheeks and eyes bright with unshed 
 tears, was whirled off though her feet seemed weighted 
 and almost refused to keep time with that violin whose 
 tones seemed to tear her heart. " I have no longer any 
 power over him," she thought. " I have so shocked and 
 disgusted him that he will not even recognize me will 
 not answer me when I speak to him ! How much nobler 
 he is than these little toads with whom I have to dance, 
 these wretches who flatter me, yet all the time despise me 
 in their hearts ! Oh, what a fool I have been to throw 
 away a heart like that, to be dazzled by a mere name, and, 
 worst of all, to lose not only his love but his respect ! I 
 shall see his face in a moment as we go past that corner. 
 There he is ! How sad and stern he looks, and how reso- 
 lutely he goes on playing ! I shall hate this tune all my 
 life long. I have nothing left but the power to give him 
 pain I who long to help him, who am tortured by this 
 regret ! " 
 
 All this time she was answering the foolish words of her 
 partner at random. And the evening wore on, and she 
 laughed mechanically and talked by rote, and danced, oh, 
 how wearily ! thinking often of a description of the Inferno 
 she had lately seen in one of the magazines, in which the 
 people were obliged to go on pretending to amuse them- 
 selves, and dancing, as she now danced, when they only 
 longed to lie down and die. 
 
 " But after all, I can stop," she reflected. " I am not 
 
264 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 in the Inferno yet at least I suppose not, though I doubt 
 if it can be worse than this. How pretty and innocent 
 that little fair-haired girl looks white net and lilies of the 
 valley ; I should think it must be her first dance. Will 
 she ever grow like me, I wonder ? Perhaps some one will 
 say to her, * That is the celebrated Lady Romiaux.' Per- 
 haps she will read the newspapers when the case comes on, 
 as it must come soon. They may do her terrible harm. 
 Oh, if only I could undo the past ! I never thought of all 
 this at the time. I never thought till now of any one but 
 myself." 
 
 That thought of the possibility of stopping the dismal 
 mockery of enjoyment came to her again, and she eagerly 
 seized the first opportunity of departure ; but when once 
 the strain of the excitement was over her strength all at 
 once evaporated. Feeling sick and faint, she lay back in a 
 cushioned chair in the cloak-room ; her gold plush mantle 
 and the lace mantilla which she wore on her head made 
 her look ghastly pale and the maid came up to her with 
 anxious inquiries. 
 
 " It is nothing but neuralgia," she replied, wearily. " Let 
 them call my carriage." 
 
 And then came a confused sound of wheels outside in 
 the street and shouts echoing through the night, while from 
 above came the sound of the dancers, and that resolute, 
 indefatigable violin still going on with the monotonous air 
 of " Sir Roger de Coverly," as though it were played by a 
 machine rather than by a man with a weary head and a 
 heavy heart. Blanche wandered back to recollections of 
 Balholm ; she saw that merry throng in the inn parlor, she 
 saw Ole Kvikne with his kindly smile, and Herr Falck 
 with his look of content, and she flew down the long lines 
 of merry dancers once more to meet Frithiof the boyish, 
 happy-looking Frithiof with whom she had danced " Sir 
 Roger " two years ago. 
 
 " Lady Romiaux' carriage is at the door," said a voice, 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 265 
 
 and she hastily got up, made her way through the brightly 
 lighted hall, and with a sense of relief stepped into her 
 brougham. Still the violin played on, its gay tune ringing 
 out with that strange sadness which dance music at a dis- 
 tance often suggests. Blanche could bear it no longer ; 
 she drew up the carriage window, sunk back into the 
 corner, and broke into a passionate fit of weeping. 
 
 It was quite possible for Lady Romiaux to go, but the 
 dance was not yet over, and Frithiof and Sigrid had, of 
 course, to stay to the bitter end. Sigrid, tired as she was 
 herself, had hardly a thought for anything except her twin. 
 As that long, long evening wore on it seemed to her that 
 if possible she loved him better than she had ever done 
 before ; his quiet endurance appealed to her very strongly, 
 but for his sake she eagerly wished for the end, for she saw 
 by the look of his forehead that one of his worst head- 
 aches had come on. 
 
 And at length the programme had been toiled through. 
 She hurried Downstairs to put on her cloak and hat, 
 rejoined Frithiof in a few minutes in the crowded hall, 
 where he stood looking, to her fond fancy, a thousand 
 times nobler and grander than any of the other men about 
 him. 
 
 He gave a sigh of relief as they passed from the heated 
 atmosphere of the house into the cool darkness without. 
 The stars were still visible, but faint tokens of the coming 
 dawn were already to be seen in the eastern sky. The 
 stillness was delightful after the noise of the music and 
 dancing, which had so jarred upon him ; but he realised 
 now how great the strain had been,, and even out here in 
 the quiet night it seemed to him that shadowy figures were 
 being whirled past him, and that Blanche's eyes were still 
 seeking him out. 
 
 "You are very tired?" asked Sigrid, slipping her arm 
 into his. 
 
 " Yes, tired to death," he said. " It is humiliating for a 
 fellow to be knocked UD bv so little." 
 
266 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " I do not call it ' little,' " she said, eagerly. " You 
 know quite well it was neither the heat nor the work 
 which tired you. Oh, Frithiof, how could that woman dare 
 to speak to you ! " 
 
 " Hush ! " he said, sadly. " Talking only makes it worse. 
 I wish you would drive the thought out of my head with 
 something else. Say me some poetry anything." 
 
 " I hardly know what I can say unless it is an old poem 
 that Cecil gave me when we were at Rowan Tree House, 
 but I don't think it is in your style quite." 
 " Anything will do," he said. 
 
 " Well, you shall have it then ; it is an old fourteenth- 
 century hymn." And in her clear voice she repeated the 
 following lines as they walked home through the deserted 
 streets 
 
 " Fighting the battle of life, 
 
 With a weary heart and head ; 
 For in the midst of the strife 
 
 The banners of joy are fled ! 
 Fled and gone out of sight, 
 
 When I thought they were so near, 
 And the murmur of hope this night 
 Is dying away on my ear. 
 
 *' Fighting alone to night, 
 
 With not even a stander-by 
 To cheer me on in the fight, 
 
 Or to hear me when I cry ; 
 Only the Lord can hear, 
 
 Only the Lord can see, 
 The struggle within, how dark and drear, 
 
 Though quiet the outside be. 
 
 44 Lord, I would fain be still 
 
 And quiet behind my shield, 
 But make me to know Thy will, 
 
 For fear I should ever yield ; 
 Even as now my hands, 
 
 So doth my folded will, 
 Lie waiting Thy commands, 
 
 Without one anxious thrill. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 267 
 
 " But as with sudden pain 
 
 My hands unfold and clasp, 
 So doth my will stand up again 
 
 And take its old firm grasp ; 
 Nothing but perfect trust, 
 
 And love of Thy perfect will, 
 Can raise me out of the dust, 
 
 And bid my fears be still. 
 
 " Oh, Lord, Thou hidest Thy face, 
 
 And the battle-clouds prevail ; 
 Oh, grant me Thy sweet grace, 
 
 That I may not utterly fail. 
 Fighting alone to-night, 
 
 With what a beating heart 1 
 Lord Jesus in the fight, 
 
 Oh ! stand not Thou apart ! " 
 
 He made no comment at all when she had ended the 
 poem, but in truth it had filled his mmd with other 
 thoughts. And the dim, dreary streets through which they 
 walked, and the gradually increasing light in the east, 
 seemed like a picture of his own life, for there dawned for 
 him in his sadness a clearer revelation of the Unseen than 
 had ever before been granted him. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 IT seemed to Sigrid that she had hardly gone to bed before 
 it was time to get up again ; she sleepily wished that 
 Londoners would give dances at more reasonable hours, 
 then, remembering all that had happened, she forgot her 
 own weariness and turned with an eager question to Swan- 
 hild. It was the little sister's daily duty to go in and 
 wake Frithiof up, a task of some difficulty, for either his 
 bad habit of working at night during his lonely year in 
 town, or else his illness, had left him with a tendency to 
 be wide awake between twelve and two and sound asleep 
 between six and seven. 
 
268 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " You haven't called him yet, have you ? " asked Sigrid 
 rubbing her eyes. 
 
 " No, but it is quite time," said Swanhild, shutting up 
 her atlas and rearing up in the bed where she had been 
 luxuriously learning geography, 
 
 " Oh, leave him a little longer,'* said Sigrid. " We were 
 so late last night, and his head was so bad, that I don't 
 suppose he has had much sleep. And, Swanhild, whatevei 
 you do, don't speak of the dance to him or ask him an) 
 questions. As ill-luck would have it Lady Romiaux was 
 there." 
 
 Now Swanhild was a very imaginative child, and she was 
 just at the age when girls form extravagant adorations foi 
 women. At Balholm she had worshipped Blanche ; even 
 when told afterward how badly Frithiof had been treated 
 her love had not faltered, she had invented every possible 
 excuse for her idol, and though never able to speak of her, 
 still cherished a little hoard of souvenirs of Balholm. 
 There is something laughable and yet touching in these 
 girlish adorations, and as safeguards against premature 
 thoughts of real love they are certainly worthy of all 
 encouragement. Men were at present nothing at all to her 
 but a set of big brothers, who did well enough as play- 
 fellows. All the romance of her nature was spent on an 
 ideal Blanche how unlike the real Lady Romiaux innocent 
 Swanhild never guessed. While the world talked hard 
 things, this little Norwegian girl was secretly kissing a fir 
 cone, which Blanche had once picked up on their way to 
 the priest's saeter, or furtively unwrapping a withered rose 
 which had been fastened in Blanche's hair at the merry 
 dance on that Saturday night. Her heart beat so fast that 
 she felt almost choked when Sigrid suddenly mentioned 
 Lady Romiaux's name. 
 
 " How was she looking ? " she asked, turning away her 
 blushing face with the most comical parody of a woman's 
 innate tendency to hide her love. 
 
A PIARDY NORSEMAN. 269 
 
 " Oh, she was looking just as usual, as pretty, and as 
 siren-like as ever, wretched woman ! " Then remember- 
 ing that Swanhild was too young to hear all the truth, she 
 suddenly drew up. " But there, don't speak of her any 
 more. I never wish to hear her name again." 
 
 Poor Swanhild sighed ; she thought Sigrid very hard 
 and unforgiving, and this made her cling all the more to 
 her beloved ideal ; it was true she had been faithless to 
 Frithiof, but no doubt she was very sorry by this time, and 
 as the child knelt down to say her morning prayers she 
 paused long over the petition for " Blanche," which for all 
 this time had never been omitted once. 
 
 Frithiof came to breakfast only a few minutes before the 
 time when he had to start for business. His eyes looked 
 very heavy, and his face had the pale, set look which 
 Sigrid had learned to interpret only too well. She knew 
 that while they had been sleeping he had been awake, 
 struggling with those old memories which at times would 
 return to him; he had conquered, but the conquest had 
 left him weary, and exhausted and depressed. 
 
 " If only she had been true to him ! " thought Swanhild. 
 " Poor Blanche ! if he looked at all like this last night how 
 terribly sorry she must have felt." 
 
 After all, the child with her warm-hearted forgiveness, 
 and her scanty knowledge of facts, was perhaps a good 
 deal nearer the truth than Sigrid. Certainly Blanche was 
 not the ideal of her dreams, but she was very far from 
 being the hopelessly depraved character that Sigrid 
 deemed her ; she was a woman who had sinned very deeply, 
 but she was not utterly devoid of heart, and there were 
 gleams of good in her to which the Norwegian girl, in her 
 hot indignation, was altogether blind. Sigrid was not 
 faultless, and as with Frithiof, so there lingered too with 
 her a touch of the fierce, unforgiving spirit which had 
 governed their Viking ancestors. 
 
 More than once that morning as she moved about her 
 
270 A HARDY NORSEMAN". 
 
 household tasks she said under her breath " I wish that 
 woman were dead ! I wish she were dead ! " 
 
 "You don't look well this morning, Mr. Falck," said 
 the foreman, a cheerful, bright-eyed, good-hearted old man 
 who had managed to bring up a large family on his salary, 
 and to whom Frithiof had often applied for advice on the 
 subject of domestic economy. The two liked each other 
 now cordially, and worked well together, Foster having 
 altogether lost the slight prejudice he had at first felt 
 against the foreigner. 
 
 " We were up late last night," said Frithiof, by way of 
 explanation. But the old man was shrewd and quick- 
 sighted, and happening later on to be in Mr. Boniface's 
 private room, be seized the opportunity to remark 
 
 " We shall have Mr. Falck knocking up again, sir, if I'm 
 not mistaken ; he is looking very ill to-day/' 
 
 " I'm sorry to hear that," said Mr. Boniface. " You 
 were quite right to tell me, Foster. We will see what can 
 be done." 
 
 And the foreman knew that there was no favouritism in 
 this speech, for Mr. Boniface considered the health of his 
 employes as a matter of the very highest importance, and 
 being a Christian first and a tradesman afterward, did not 
 consider money-making to be the great object of life. 
 Many a time good old Foster himself had been sent down 
 for a few days to the seaside with his family, and it was 
 perhaps a vivid remembrance of the delights of West 
 Codrington that made him add as he left the room 
 
 " He looks to me, sir, as if he needed bracing up." 
 
 Mr. Boniface was much of the same opinion when he 
 noticed Frithiof later on in the day. A thoroughly good 
 salesman the Norwegian had always been, clear-headed, 
 courteous, and accurate ; but now the look of effort which 
 he had borne for some time before his illness was clearly 
 visible, and Mr. Boniface seized the first chance he could 
 get of speaking to him alone. About five o'clock there 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 271 
 
 came a lull in the tide of customers ; Darnell, the man at 
 the opposite counter, had gone to tea, and Frithiof had 
 gone back to his desk to enter some songs in the order- 
 list. 
 
 " Frithiof," said Mr. Boniface, coming over to him and 
 dropping the somewhat more formal style of address which 
 he generally used toward him during business hours, " you 
 have got one of your bad headaches." 
 
 " Yes," replied the Norwegian candidly, " but it is not 
 a disabling one. I shall get through all right." 
 
 " What plans have you made for your Whitsuntide 
 holiday?" 
 
 " I don't think we had made any plan at all." 
 
 " Then I want you all to come away with us for a few 
 days," said the shopowner. " You look to me as if you 
 wanted rest. Come to us for a week, I will arrange for 
 your absence." 
 
 " You are very good," said Frithiof warmly. " But 
 indeed I would rather only take the general holiday of 
 Saturday to Tuesday. I am not in the least ill, and would 
 rather not take extra days when there is no need." 
 
 " Independent as ever ! " said Mr. Boniface, with a 
 smile. " Well, it must be as you like. We will see what 
 the three days will do for you." 
 
 Where and how this holiday was to be spent only Mr. 
 and Mrs. Boniface knew, and Cecil and Roy were as much 
 astonished as any one when, at two o'clock on Saturday 
 afternoon, a coach and four stopped at the gate of Rowan 
 Tree House. 
 
 " What ! are we to drive there ? " asked Cecil. " Oh, 
 father, how delightful ! Will it be very far ? " 
 
 " Yes, a long drive ; so keep out plenty of wraps, in case 
 the evening is chilly. We can tuck away the children 
 inside if they get tired. Now, are we all ready ? Then we 
 will drive to the model lodgings." 
 
 So off they started, a very merry party, but still merrier 
 
272 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 when the three Norwegians had joined them, the girls, as 
 usual, dressed in black, for economy's sake, but wearing 
 very dainty little white sailor's hats, which Sigrid had sat 
 up on the previous night to trim. She enjoyed her new 
 hat amazingly ; she enjoyed locking up the lodgings and 
 handing the key to the caretaker; she enjoyed the 
 delicious prospect of three days' immunity from cooking 
 and cleaning, and anxious planning of food and money ; 
 and she enjoyed Roy's presence, with the frank, free 
 happiness of a girl who is as yet quite heart-whole. 
 
 " I feel like the < linendraper bold,' in the ballad," said 
 Mr. Boniface, with his hearty laugh. " But I have taken 
 precautions you see against a similar catastrophe. We 
 have had more than the ' twice ten tedious years ' together, 
 have we not, Loveday ? " 
 
 " Yes," she said, with her sweet, expressive smile, " we 
 are just beginning the twenty-seventh, Robin, and have had 
 many holidays, unlike Mr. and Mrs. Gilpin." 
 
 They were still like lovers, this husband and wife of 
 twenty-six years' standing ; and it was with a sort of con- 
 sciousness that they would be happier if left to themselves, 
 that Frithiof, who sat between Mrs. Boniface and Cecil, 
 turned toward the latter, and began to talk to her. 
 
 Cecil was looking her very best that day. The sun 
 lighted up her fair hair, the fresh wind brought a glow of 
 healthy colour to her cheeks, her honest grey eyes had 
 lost the grave look which they usually wore, and were 
 bright and happy looking ; for she was not at all the sort 
 of girl who, because she could not get her own wish, 
 refused to enjoy life. She took all that came to her 
 brightly enough, and, with a presentiment that such a 
 treat as this drive with Frithiof would not often fall to her 
 lot, she gave herself up to present happiness, and put far 
 from her all anxieties and fears for the future. From the 
 back seat, peals of laughter from Lance and Gwen and 
 Swanhild reached them. In front, by the side of the driver, 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 273 
 
 they could see Roy and Sigrid absorbed in their own talk 
 and with such surroundings, it would have been hard indeed 
 if these two, the Norwegian, with his sad story, 'and Cecil, 
 with her life overshadowed by his trouble, had not been 
 able for a time to throw off everything that weighed them 
 down, and enjoy themselves like the rest. 
 
 " This is a thousand times better than a carriole or a 
 stolkjaerre," said Frithiof. " What a splendid pace we are 
 going at, and how well you see the country! It is the 
 perfection of travelling." 
 
 " So I think," said Cecil. " At any rate, on such a day 
 as this. In rain, or snow, or burning heat, it might be 
 rather trying. And then, of course, in the old days we 
 should not have had it all snugly to ourselves like this ; 
 which makes such a difference." 
 
 He thought over those last words for a minute, and 
 reflected how, among " ourselves," Cecil included the little 
 children of a criminal, and the foreigners who had scarcely 
 been known to them for two years. Her warm, generous 
 heart had for him a very genuine attraction. Possibly, if 
 it had not been for that chance meeting with Blanche, 
 which had caused an old wound to break out anew, some 
 thought of love might have stirred in his breast. As it 
 was, he was merely grateful to her for chasing away the 
 gloom that for the last few days had hung about him like 
 a fog. She was to him a cheering ray of sunshine ; a 
 healthy breeze that dispersed the mist; a friend but 
 nothing more. 
 
 On they drove, free of houses at last, or passing only 
 isolated farms, little villages, and sleepy country towns. 
 The trees were in all the exquisite beauty- of early June, 
 and the Norwegians, accustomed to less varied foliage, 
 were enthusiastic in their admiration. They had never 
 known before what it was to drive along a road bordered 
 by picturesque hedges, with stately elms here and there, 
 and with oaks and beeches, sycamores and birches, poplars 
 
274 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 and chestnuts scattered in such lavish profusion through- 
 out the landscape. 
 
 " If we can beat you in mountains, you can certainly 
 beat us in trees ! " cried Sigrid, her blue eyes bright with 
 happiness. 
 
 She was enjoying it all as only those who have been 
 toiling in a great town can enjoy the sights and sounds of 
 the country. The most humdrum things had an attraction 
 for her, and when they stopped by-and-by for tea, at a 
 little road-side inn, she almost wished their drive at an end, 
 such a longing came over her to run out into the fields 
 and just gather flowers to her heart's content. 
 
 At last, after a great deal of tea and bread and butter 
 had been consumed, they mounted the coach again, 
 leaving a sort of reflection of their happiness in the hearts 
 of the people of the inn. 
 
 " There's merry-makers and merry-makers," remarked 
 the landlord, glancing after them ; " yon's the right sort, 
 and no mistake." 
 
 And now Mr. Boniface began to enjoy to the full his 
 surprise. How he laughed when they implored him to say 
 where they were going ! How triumphant he was when 
 the driver, who was as deaf as a post, utterly declined to 
 answer leading questions put to him by Roy ! 
 
 " I believe we are going to Helmstone, or some great 
 watering-place, where we shall have to be proper and wear 
 gloves," said Cecil. 
 
 This was received with groans. 
 
 ' ' But to get a sight of the sea one would put up with 
 glove-wearing," said Sigrid. " And we could, at any rate f 
 walk out into 'the country, I suppose, for flowers." 
 
 Mr. Boniface only smiled, however, and looked inscru- 
 table. And finding that they could not guess their des- 
 tination in the least, they took to singing rounds, which 
 made the time pass by very quickly. At length Frithiof 
 started to his feet with an eager exclamation. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 275 
 
 " The sea ! " he cried. 
 
 And sure enough, there, in the distance, was the first 
 glimpse of a long blue line, which made the hearts of the 
 Norwegians throb with eager delight. 
 
 '' It seems like being at home again," said Swanhild, 
 while Frithiof seemed to drink in new life as the fresh, salt 
 wind blew once more upon him, bringing back to his mind 
 the memory of many a perilous adventure in his free, careless 
 boyhood. 
 
 il A big watering-place," groaned Roy. " I told you so. 
 Houses, churches r a parade, and a pier ; I can .see them 
 all." 
 
 " Where ? where ? " cried every one, while Mr. Boniface 
 laughed quietly and rubbed his hands. 
 
 " Over there, to the left/' said Roy. 
 
 " You prophet of evil ! " cried Cecil, merrily; " we are 
 turning quite away to the right." 
 
 And on they went between the green downs, till they 
 came to a tiny village, far removed from railways, and 
 leaving even that behind them, paused at length before a 
 solitary farmhouse, standing a little back from the road, 
 with downs on either side of it, and barely a quarter of a 
 mile from the sea. * 
 
 " How did you hear of this delightful place, father ? " 
 cried Cecil ; " it is just perfect." 
 
 " Well, I saw it when you and Roy were in Norway, two 
 summers ago," said Mr. Boniface. " Mother and I drove 
 out here from Southbourne, and took such a fancy to this 
 farm that, like Captain Cuttle, we made a note of it, and 
 kept it for a surprise party." 
 
 Mr. Horner, in his suburban villa, was at that very 
 moment lamenting his cousin's absurd extravagance. 
 
 " He was always wanting in common sense, poor fellow," 
 observed Mrs. Horner. " But to hire a coach-and-four just 
 to take into the country his own family and that criminal's 
 children, and those precious Norwegians, who apparently 
 
276 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 think themselves on a level with the highest in the land 
 that beats everything ! I suppose he'll be wanting to hire 
 a palace for them next bank holiday ! " 
 
 As a matter of fact, the farmhouse accommodation was 
 rather limited, but no one cared about that. Though the 
 rooms were small they had a most delicious smell of the 
 country about them, and every one, moreover, was in a 
 humour to be as much out of doors as possible. 
 
 The time seemed to all of them a little like that summer 
 holiday at Balholm in its freedom and brightness and good- 
 fellowship. The delightful rambles over the breezy downs, 
 the visit to the lighthouse, the friendly chats with the 
 coast-guardsmen, the boating excursions, and the quiet 
 country Sunday all remained in their memories for long 
 after. 
 
 To Roy those days were idyllic ; and Sigrid, too, began 
 to understand for the first time that he was something 
 more to her than Frithiof s friend. The two were much 
 together, and on the Monday afternoon, when the rest of 
 the party had gone off again to the lighthouse for Lance's 
 special benefit, they wandeied away along the shore, nomi- 
 nally searching among the rocks for anemones, but far too 
 much absorbed in each other to prove good collectors. 
 
 It took a long time really to know Roy, for he was 
 silent and reserved ; but by this time Sigrid had begun to 
 realise how much there was in him that was well worth 
 knowing, and her bright, easy manner had always been, 
 able to thaw his taciturn moods. He had, she perceived, 
 his father's large-mindedness ; he studied the various 
 problems of the day in the same spirit ; to money he was 
 comparatively indifferent ; and he was wholly without that 
 spirit of calculation, that sordid ambition which is very 
 unjustly supposed to animate most of those engaged in 
 retail trade. Sigrid had liked him ever since their first 
 meeting in Norway, but only within the last two days nad 
 any thought of love occurred to her. Even now that 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 277 
 
 thought was scarcely formed j she was only conscious of 
 being unusually happy, and of feeling a sort of additional 
 happiness, and a funny sense of relief when the rest of* the 
 party climbed the hill to the lighthouse, leaving her alone 
 with Roy. Of what they talked she scarcely knew, but 
 as they wandered on over low rocks and pools and shingle, 
 hand-in-hand, because the way was slippery and treach- 
 erous, it seemed to her that she was walking in some new 
 paradise. The fresh air and beauty after the smoke and 
 the wilderness of streets ; the sense of protection, after the 
 anxieties of being manager-in-chief to a very poor house- 
 hold ; above all, the joyous brightness after a sad past, 
 made her heart dance within her ; and in her happiness 
 she looked so lovely that all thought of obstacles and 
 difficulties left Roy's mind. 
 
 They sat down to rest in a little sheltered nook under 
 the high chalk cliffs, and it was there that he poured out 
 to her the confession of his love, being so completely car- 
 ried away that for once words came readily to his lips, so 
 that Sigrid was almost frightened by his eagerness. How 
 different was this from Torvald Lundgren's proposal ! 
 How utterly changed was her whole life since that wintry 
 day when she had walked back from the Bergen cemetery ! 
 
 What was it that had made everything so bright to her 
 since then ? Was it not the goodness of the man beside 
 her the man who had saved her brother's life who had 
 brought them together once more who now loved her 
 and asked for her love ? 
 
 When at last he paused, waiting for her reply, she was 
 for a minute or two quite silent ; still her face reassured 
 Roy, and he was not without hope, so that the waiting- 
 time was not intolerable to him. 
 
 " If it were only myself to be thought about/' she said 
 at length, " I might perhaps give you an answer more 
 readily. But, you see, there are other people to be con. 
 sidered." 
 
278 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 The admission she had made sent a throb of delight to 
 Roy's heart. Once sure of her love he dreaded no 
 obstacles. 
 
 " You are thinking of Frithiof," he said. " And of 
 course I would never ask you to leave him ; but there 
 would be no need. If you could love me if you will be 
 my wife you would be much freer than you now are to 
 help him." 
 
 The thought of his wealth suddenly flashed into Sigrid's 
 mind, giving her a momentary pang ; yet, since she really 
 loved him. it was impossible that this should be a lasting 
 barrier between them. She looked out over the sea, and 
 the thought of her old home, and of the debts, and the 
 slow struggle to pay them, came to her ; yet all the time 
 she knew that these could not separate her from Roy. She 
 loved him, and the world's praise and blame were just 
 nothing to her. She could not care in the least about the 
 way in which such a marriage would be regarded by out- 
 siders. She loved him ; and when once sure that her mar- 
 riage would be right that it would not be selfish, or in 
 any way bad in its effects on either Frithiof or Swanhild 
 it was impossible that she should hesitate any longer. 
 
 But of this she was not yet quite sure. All had come 
 upon her so suddenly that she felt as if she must have time 
 to think it out quietly before making a definite promise. 
 
 " Give me a fortnight," she said, " and then I will let 
 you have my answer. It would not be fair to either of us 
 if I spoke hastily when so much is at stake." 
 
 Roy could not complain of this suggestion ; it was much 
 that he was able at last to plead his own cause with Sigrid, 
 and in her frank blue eyes there lurked something which 
 told him that he need fear no more. 
 
 Meanwhile time sped on, and unheeded by these two, 
 the tide was coming in. They were so absorbed in their 
 own affairs that it was not until a wave swept right into 
 the little bay, leaving a foam-wreath almost at their feet, 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 27$ 
 
 that they realised their danger. With a quick exclama- 
 tion Roy started up. 
 
 "What have I been thinking of? " he cried in dismay. 
 " Why, we are cut off!" 
 
 Sigrid sprang forward and glanced toward Britling Gap. 
 It was too true. Return was absolutely impossible. 
 
 " We could never swim such a distance," she said. And 
 turning she glanced toward the steep white cliff above. 
 
 " And that too is utterly impossible," said Roy. " Our 
 only hope is in some pleasure-boat passing. Stay, I have 
 an idea." 
 
 Hastily opening his knife he began to scoop out foot- 
 holds in the chalk. He saw that their sole chance lay in 
 making a standing place out of reach of the water, and he 
 worked with all his might, first securing a place for the 
 feet, then higher up, scooping holes for the hands to cling 
 to ; he spoke little, his mind was too full of a torturing 
 sense of blame, a bitter indignation with himself for allow- 
 ing his very love to blind him to such a danger. 
 
 As for Sigrid, she picked up a pointed stone and began 
 to wjrk too with a desperate energy. She was naturally 
 brave, and as long as she could do anything her heart 
 scarcely beat faster than usual. It was the waiting-time 
 that tried her, the clinging to that uncompromising white 
 cliff, while below the waves surged to and fro with the 
 noise that only that morning she had thought musical, 
 but which now seemed to her almost intolerable. If it 
 had not been that Roy's arm was round her, holding her 
 closely, she could never have borne up so long, she would 
 have turned giddy and fallen back into the water. But 
 his strength seemed to her equal to anything, and her j/er- 
 fect confidence in him filled her with a wonderful energy 
 of endurance. 
 
 In their terrible position all sense of time left them, they 
 could not tell whether it was for minutes or for hours that 
 they had clung to their frail refuge, when at length a shout 
 from above reached their ears. 
 
25o A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " Courage ! " cried a voice. "A boat is coming to your 
 help. Hold on ! " 
 
 Hope renewed their strength in a wonderful way, they 
 were indeed less to be pitied than those who had the fearful 
 anxiety of rescuing them, or watching the rescue. 
 
 It was Frithiof who had first discovered them ; the rest 
 of the party, after seeing over the lighthouse, had wan- 
 dered along the cliffs talking to an old sailor, and, Lance 
 being seized with a desire to see over the edge, Frithiof 
 had set Cecil's mind at rest by lying down with the little 
 fellow and holding him securely w.hile he glanced down 
 the sheer descent to the sea. A little farther on, to the 
 left, he suddenly perceived to his horror the two clinging 
 figures, and at once recognised them. Dragging the child 
 back, he sprang up and seized the old sailor's arm, inter- 
 rupting a long-winded story to which Mr. Boniface was 
 listening. 
 
 " There are two people down there, cut off by the tide," 
 he said. " What is the quickest way to reach them ? " 
 
 " Good Lord ! " cried the old man ; " why, there'll be 
 naught quicker than a boat at Britling Gap, or ropes 
 brought from there and let down." 
 
 "Tell them help is coming," said Frithiof. I will row 
 round. " 
 
 And without another word he set off running like the 
 wind toward the coast-guard station. On and on he rushed 
 over the green downs, past the little white chalk heaps that 
 marked the coast-guard's nightly walk, past the lighthouse 
 and down the hill to the little sheltered cove. Though a 
 good runner, he was sadly out of training, his breath came 
 now in gasps, his throat felt as though it were on fire, and 
 all the time a terrible dread filled his heart. Supposing 
 he were too late ! 
 
 At Britling Gap not a soul was in sight, and he dared not 
 waste time in seeking help. The boat was in its usual place 
 on the beach. He shoved it out to sea, sprang into it, 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 2& 
 
 paused only to fling off his coat, then with desperate energy 
 pulled toward the place where Roy and Sigrid awaited their 
 rescuer with fast-failing strength. 
 
 And yet in all Frithiof s anxiety there came to him a 
 strange sense of satisfaction, an excitement which banished 
 from his mind all the spectres of the past, a consciousness 
 of power that in itself was invigorating. Danger seemed 
 to be his native element, daring his strongest characteristic, 
 and while straining every nerve and making the little boat 
 bound through the water, he was more at rest than he had 
 been for months, just because everything personal had 
 faded into entire insignificance before the absorbing need 
 of those whom he loved. 
 
 How his pulses throbbed when at length he caught sight 
 of Sigrid's figure ! and with what skill he guided his boat 
 toward the cliff, shouting out encouragement and warning ! 
 The two were both so stiff and exhausted that it was no 
 easy task to get them down into the boat, but he managed 
 it somehow, and a glad cheer from above showed that the 
 watchers were following their every movement with eager 
 sympathy. 
 
 " Let us walk back quickly," said Mr. Boniface, " that 
 we may be ready to meet them/' and with an intensity of 
 relief they hurried back to Britling Gap, arriving just in 
 time to greet the three as they walked up the beach. 
 Sigrid, though rather pale and exhausted, seemed little the 
 worse for the adventure, and a glad colour flooded her 
 cheeks when Mr. Boniface turned to Frithiof, and, grasping 
 his hand, thanked him warmly for what he had done. Cecil 
 said scarcely anything, she could hardly trust herself to 
 speak, but her heart beat fast as, glancing at Frithiof, she 
 saw on his face the bright look which made him once more 
 like the Frithiof she had met long ago at Bergen. 
 
2 S2 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 MR. BONIFACE insisted on keeping them all till the follow- 
 ing day, when once more they enjoyed the delights of 
 coaching, getting back to London in the cool of the even- 
 ing, laden with wild roses, hawthorn, and field flowers, 
 which gladdened more than one of their neighbours' rooms 
 in the model lodgings. 
 
 It was not till Wednesday in Whitsun week that Frithiof 
 found himself in his old place behind the counter, and it 
 took several days before they all got into working order 
 again, for though the holiday had done them good, yet it 
 was not very easy to get back into the routine of business. 
 But by Monday everything was in clockwork order again, 
 and even Mr. Homer, though ready enough at all times to 
 grumble, could find nothing to make a fuss about. It 
 happened that day that Mr. Homer was more in the shop 
 than usual, for Roy had unexpectedly been obliged to go 
 to Paris on business, and it chanced, much to his satisfac- 
 tion, that, while Mr. Boniface was dining, Sardoni the tenor 
 called to speak about a song. There was nothing that he 
 enjoyed so much as interviewing any well-known singer ; 
 he seemed to gain a sort of reflected glory in the process, 
 and Frithiof could hardly help smiling when at the close of 
 the interview they passed through the shop, so comical was 
 the obsequious manner of the little man toward the tall, 
 jolly-looking singer, and so curious the contrast between 
 the excessive politeness of his tone to the visitor, and his 
 curt command, " Open the door, Falck." 
 
 Frithiof opened the door promptly, but the tenor, whose 
 mischievous eyes evidently took in everything that savoured 
 of fun, saw plainly enough that the Norseman, with his 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 283 
 
 dignity of manner and nobility of bearing, deemed Mr. 
 Homer as a man beneath contempt. 
 
 " Oh, by the way, Mr. Homer," he exclaimed, suddenly 
 turning back just as he had left the shop j " I quite forgot 
 to ask if you could oblige me with change for a five-pound 
 note. I have tried to #et it twice this morning, but change 
 seems to be short." 
 
 " With the greatest pleasure," said Mr. Horner, defer- 
 entially. 
 
 And, pushing past F ithiof, he himself deposited the note 
 in the till and counted )ut five sovereigns, which he handed 
 with a bow to Sardoni 
 
 Then with a friendl/ 1 "good-day," the singer went out, 
 and Mr. Horner, rubbing his hands with an air of great 
 satisfaction, retired tc> Mr. Boniface's room. 
 
 The afternoon pasfi id on just as hundreds of afternoons 
 had passed before it, With the usual succession of customers, 
 the usual round of Monotonous work ; there was nothing 
 to mark it in any 7/ay,. and no sense of coming evil made 
 itself felt. In tJ>*> : Most prosaic manner possible, Frithiof 
 went out for th? fa;v minutes' stroll in the streets, which he 
 called tea-time. He was in good spirits, and as he walked 
 along he thou/(}/C of the days by the sea, and of the boat- 
 ing which he had so much enjoyed, living it all over again 
 in this hot, ^'dsty London, where June was far from delight- 
 ful. Still U was something to be out in the open air, to get 
 a few mounts of leisure and to stretch one's legs. He 
 walked ?long pretty briskly, managing to get some little 
 enjoyment out of his short respite, and this was well ; for it 
 was long before he could enjoy anything again in that un- 
 concerned, free-hearted way. Yet nothing warned him of 
 this j quite carelessly he pushed open the double swing- 
 doors and re-entered the shop, glancing with surprise but 
 with no special concern at the little group behind the 
 counter. Mr. Horner was finding fault about something, 
 but that was a very ordinary occurrence. A thin, grave- 
 
284 ^ HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 looking man stood listening attentively, and Mr. Boniface 
 listened too with an expression of great trouble on his face. 
 Looking up, he perceived Frithiof, and with an exclama- 
 tion of relief came toward him. 
 
 " Here is Mr. Falck ! " he said : " who no doubt will be 
 able to explain everything satisfactorily. A five-pound 
 note has somehow disappeared from your till this afternoon, 
 Frithiof, do you know anything about it ? " 
 
 " It was certainly in the till when I last opened it," said 
 Frithiof ; " and that was only a few minutes before I went 
 out." * 
 
 " Very possibly," said Mr. Horner. " The question is 
 whether it was there when you shut it again." 
 
 The tone even more than the words made Frithiof s blood 
 boil. 
 
 " Sir," he said furiously, " do you dare to insinuate that 
 I" 
 
 But Mr. Boniface laid a hand on his arm, and interrupted 
 him. 
 
 " Frithiof," he said, " you know quite well that I should 
 as soon suspect my own son as you. But this note has 
 disappeared in a very extraordinary way, while only you and 
 Darnell were in the shop, and we must do our best to trace 
 it out. I am sure you will help me in this disagreeable 
 business by going through the ordinary form quietly." 
 
 Then, turning to the private detective who had been 
 hastily called in by Mr. Horner, he suggested that they 
 should come to his own room. Mr. Horner shut the door 
 with an air of satisfaction. From the first he had detested 
 the Norwegian, and now was delighted to feel that his dis- 
 like was justified. Mr. Boniface, looking utterly miserable, 
 sat down in his arm-chair to wait the result of the inquiry, 
 and the two men who lay under suspicion stood before the 
 detective, who, with his practised eye glanced now at one, 
 now at the other, willing if possible to spare the innocent 
 man the indignity of being searched. 
 
A HARD Y NORSEMAN. 285 
 
 Darnell was a rather handsome fellow, with a short dark 
 beard and heavy moustache ; he looked a trifle paler than 
 usual, but was quite quiet and collected, perhaps a little 
 upset at the unusual disturbance in the shop where for so 
 long he had worked, yet without the faintest sign of personal 
 uneasiness about him. Beside him stood the tall Nor- 
 wegian, his fair skin showing all too plainly the burning 
 colour that had rushed to his face the instant he knew that 
 he lay actually under suspicion of thieving. Mr. Hor- 
 ner's words still made him tingle from head to foot, and 
 he could gladly have taken the man by the throat and shaken 
 the breath out of him. For the suspicion, hard enough for 
 any man to bear, was doubly hard to him on account of 
 his nationality. That a Norwegian should be otherwise 
 than strictly honourable was to Frithiof a monstrous idea. 
 He knew well that he and his countrymen in general had 
 plenty of faults, but scrupulous honesty was so ingrained 
 in his Norse nature, that to have the slightest doubt cast 
 upon his honour was to him an intolerable insult. The 
 detective could not, of course, understand this. He was 
 a clever and a conscientious man, but his experience was, 
 after all, limited. He had not travelled in Norway, or 
 studied the character of its people ; he did not know that 
 you may leave all your luggage outside an inn in the public 
 highway without the least fear that in the night any one will 
 meddle with it ; he did not know that if you give a Norse 
 child a coin equal to sixpence in return for a great bowl of 
 milk, it will refuse with real distress to keep it, because the 
 milk was worth a little less ; he had not heard the story of 
 the lost chest of plate, which by good chance was washed 
 up on the Norwegian coast, how the experts examined the 
 crest on the spoons, and after infinite labour and pains suc- 
 ceeded in restoring it to its rightful owner in a far-away 
 southern island. It was, after all, quite natural that he 
 should suspect the man who had coloured so deeply, who 
 protested so indignantly against the mere suspicion of 
 guilt, who clearlv shrank from the idea of beino- s 
 
886 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " I will examine you first," said the detective ; and Fri* 
 thiof, seeing that there was no help for it, submitted with 
 haughty composure to the indignity. For an instant even 
 Mr. Horner was shaken in his opinion, there was such an 
 evident consciousness of innocence in the Norwegian's 
 whole manner and bearing now that the ordeal had actually 
 come. 
 
 In solemn silence two pockets were turned inside out. 
 The right-hand waistcoat pocket was apparently empty, 
 but the careful detective turned that inside out too. Sud- 
 denly Mr. Boniface started forward with an ejaculation of 
 astonishment. 
 
 " I told you so/' cried Mr. Horner vehemently. 
 
 And Frithiof, roused to take notice, which before he had 
 not condescended to do, looked down and saw a sight that 
 made his heart stand still. 
 
 Carefully pinned to the inside of the pocket was a clean, 
 fresh, five-pound note. He did not speak a word, but just 
 stared at the thing in blank amazement. There was a pain- 
 ful silence. Surely it could be nothing but a bad dream ! 
 
 He looked at the unconcerned detective, and at Mr. 
 Homer's excited face, and at Mr. Boniface's expression of 
 grief and perplexity. It was no dream ; it was a most hor- 
 rible reality a reality which he was utterly incapable of 
 explaining. With an instinct that there was yet one man 
 present who trusted him in spite of appearances, he made 
 a step or two toward Mr. Boniface. 
 
 " Sir," he said in great agitation, " I swear to you that I 
 knew nothing of this. It has astounded me as much as it 
 has surprised you. How it came there I can't say, but 
 certainly I didn't put it there." 
 
 Mr. Boniface was silent, and glancing back Frithiof saw 
 on the thin lips of the detective a very expressive smile, 
 the sight almost maddened him. In the shock of the dis- 
 covery he had turned very pale, now the violence of his 
 wrath made him flush to the roots of his hair. 
 
A HARD Y NORSEMAN. 287 
 
 " If you didn't put it there, who did ? " said Mr. Horner 
 indignantly. " Don't add to your sin, young man, by false- 
 hood." 
 
 " I have never spoken a falsehood in my life : it is you 
 who lie when you say that I put the note there," said Fri- 
 thiof hotly. 
 
 " My poor fellow," said Mr. Boniface, " I am heartily 
 sorry for you, but you must own that appearances are against 
 you." 
 
 " What ! you, too, sir ! " cried Frithiof, his indignation 
 giving place to heartbroken wonder. 
 
 The tone went to Mr. Boniface's heart. 
 
 " I think you did it quite unconsciously," he said. " I 
 am sure you never could have taken it had you known what 
 you were about. You did it in absence of mind in a fit 
 of temporary aberration. It is, perhaps, a mere result of 
 your illness last summer, and no one would hold you 
 responsible for it." 
 
 A horrible wave of doubt passed over Frithiof. Could 
 this indeed be the explanation ? But it was only for a 
 moment. He could not really believe it ; he knew that 
 there was no truth in this suggestion of brain disturbance. 
 
 " No one in absence of mind could deliberately have 
 pinned the note in," he said. " Besides my head was per- 
 fectly clear, not even aching or tired." 
 
 " Quite so ; I am glad that so far you own the truth," 
 said Mr. Horner. " Make a free confession at once and 
 we will not press the prosecution. You yielded to a sud- 
 den temptation, and, as we all know, have special reasons 
 for needing the money. Come, confess ! " 
 
 " You are not bound to incriminate yourself," said the 
 detective, who, as acting in a private capacity, was not 
 bound to urge the prosecution. " Still, what the gentle- 
 man suggests is by far the best course for you to take. 
 There's not a jury in the land that would not give a verdict 
 against you." 
 
288 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " I shall certainly not tell a lie to save open disgrace," 
 said Frithiof. "The jury may say what it likes. God 
 knows I am innocent." 
 
 The tone in which he said the last words made Mr. 
 Boniface look at him more closely. Strangely enough it 
 was in that moment of supreme bitterness, when he fully 
 realised the hopelessness of his position, when one of his 
 employers deemed him a madman and the other a thief, 
 then, when disgrace and ruin and utter misery stared him 
 in the face, that the faint glimpses of the Unseen, which, 
 from time to time, had dawned for him, broadened into 
 full sunlight. For the first time in his life he stopd in close 
 personal relationship with the Power in whom he had 
 always vaguely believed, the higher Presence became to 
 him much more real than these men surrounding him with 
 their pity, and indignation, and contempt. 
 
 But Mr. Homer, was not the sort of man to read faces, 
 still less to read hearts ; the very emphasis with which 
 Frithiof had spoken made him more angry. 
 
 " Now I know that you are lying ! " he cried ; " don't add 
 blasphemy to your crime. You are the most irreligious 
 fellow I ever came across a man who, to my certain 
 knowledge, never attends any place of public worship, and 
 do you dare to call God to witness for you ? " 
 
 Nothing but the strong consciousness of this new Pres- 
 ence kept Frithiof from making a sharp retort. But a 
 great calmness had come over him, and his tone might 
 have convinced even Mr. Horner had he not been so full 
 of prejudice. " God knows I am innocent," he repeated ; 
 "and only he can tell how the note got here ; I can't." 
 
 " One word with you, if you please, Mr. Harris," said 
 Robert Boniface, suddenly pushing tack his chair and 
 rising to his feet, as though he could no longer tolerate 
 the discussion. 
 
 He led the way back to the shop, where, in low tones, 
 he briefly gave the detective his own opinion of the case. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 289 
 
 He was sure that Frithiof firmly believed that he was tell- 
 ing the truth, but, unable to doubt the evidence of his own 
 senses, he was obliged to take up the plausible theory of 
 temporary aberration. The detective shrugged his should- 
 ers a little, and said it might possibly be so, but the young 
 man seemed to him remarkably clear-headed. However, 
 he accepted his fee and went off, and Mr. Boniface 
 returned sadly enough to his room. 
 
 " You can go back to the shop, Darnell," he said. 
 
 The man bowed and withdrew, leaving Frithiof still 
 standing half bewildered where the detective had left him, 
 the cause of all his misery lying on the writing-table before 
 him, just as fresh and crisp-looking as when it had been 
 issued from the Bank of England. 
 
 " This has been a sad business, Frithiof," said Mr. 
 Boniface, leaning his elbow on the mantelpiece, and look- 
 ing with his clear, kindly eyes at the young Norwegian. 
 " But I am convinced that you had no idea what you were 
 doing, and I should not dream of prosecuting you, or dis- 
 charging you." 
 
 Poor Frithiof was far too much stunned to be able to feel 
 any gratitude for this. Mr. Horner, however, left him no 
 time to reply. 
 
 " I think you have taken leave pf your senses, Boniface," 
 he said vehemently. " Save yourself the annoyance of 
 prosecuting, if you like ; but it is grossly unfair to the rest 
 of your employes to keep a thief in your house. Not only 
 that, but it is altogether immoral ; it is showing special 
 favour to vice, it is admitting a principle which, if allowed, 
 would ruin all business life. If there is one thing notice- 
 able in all successful concerns it is that uncompromising 
 severity is shown to even trifling errors, even to careless- 
 ness." 
 
 " My business has hitherto been successful," said Mr. 
 Boniface quietly, " and I have never gone on that principle, 
 and never will. Why are we to have a law of mercy and 
 
 10 
 
290 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 rigidly to exclude it from e very-day life ? But that is the 
 way of the world. It manages, while calling itself Chris- 
 tian, to shirk most of Christ's commands." 
 
 " I tell you," said Mr. Horner, who was now in a 
 towering passion, " that it is utterly against the very rules 
 of religion. The fellow is not repentant; he persists in 
 sticking to a lie, and yet you weakly forgive him." 
 
 " If," said Mr. Boniface quietly, " you knew a little more 
 of Frithiof Falck you would know that it is quite impossible 
 that he could consciously have taken the money. When 
 he took it he was not himself. If he had wanted to hide 
 it to steal it why did he actually return to the shop with 
 it in his possession? He might easily have disposed of it 
 while he was out." 
 
 " If that is your ground, then I object to having a man 
 on my premises who is afflicted with kleptomania. But it 
 is not so. The fellow is as long-headed and quick-witted 
 as any one I know ; he has managed to hoodwink you, 
 but from the first I saw through him, and knew him to be 
 a designing " 
 
 "Sir," broke in Frithiof, turning to Mr. Boniface his 
 bewildered consternation changing now to passionate 
 earnestness " this is more than I can endure. For God's 
 sake call back the detective, examine further into this 
 mystery ; there must be some explanation ! " 
 
 " How can any man examine further ? " said Mr. Boni- 
 face, sadly. " The note is missed, and is actually found 
 upon you. The only possible explanation is that you were 
 not yourself when you took it." 
 
 " Then the least you can do is to dismiss him," resumed 
 Mr. Horner. But Mr. Boniface interrupted him very 
 sharply. 
 
 " You will please remember, James, that you are in no 
 way concerned with the engagement or dismissal of those 
 employed in this house. That is entirely my affair, as is 
 set forth in our deed of partnership." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 291 
 
 " Which partnership will need renewing m another six 
 months," said Mr. Homer, growing red with anger. " And 
 I give you fair warning that, if this dishonest fellow is kept 
 on ; I shall then withdraw my capital and retire from the 
 business." 
 
 With this Parthian shot he went out, banging the door 
 behind him. 
 
 Frithiof had borne in silence all the taunts and insults 
 showered on him ; but when he found himself alone with 
 the man to whom he owed so much, he very nearly broke 
 down altogether. " Sir," he said, trying in vain to govern 
 his voice, " you have been very good to me ; but it will be 
 best that I should go." 
 
 " I would not have you leave for the world," said Mf. 
 Boniface. " Remember that your sisters are dependent on 
 you. You must think first of them." 
 
 " No," said Frithiof, firmly ; " I must first think of what 
 1 owe to you. It would be intolerable to me to feel that I 
 had really brought any loss on you through Mr. Horner's 
 anger. I must go." 
 
 " Nonsense," said Mr. Boniface ; I cannot hear of such 
 a thing. Why, how do you think you would get another 
 situation with this mystery still hanging over you ? I, who 
 know you so well, am convinced of your perfect freedom 
 from blame ; but strangers could not possibly be convinced 
 of it." 
 
 Frithiof was silent ; he thought of Sigrid and Swanhild 
 suffering through his trouble, he remembered his terrible 
 search for work when he had first come to London, and he 
 realised that it was chiefly his own pride that prompted 
 him never to return to the shop. After all, what a pros- 
 pect it was ! With one partner deeming him a thief and 
 the other forced to say that he must be subject to a form 
 of insanity ; with the men employed in the shop all ready 
 to deem him a dishonest foreigner ! How was he to bear 
 such a terrible position ? Yet bear it he must ; nay, he 
 must be thankful for the chance of being allowed to bear it. 
 
292 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 11 If you are indeed willing that I should stay," he said, 
 at length, " then I will stay. But your theory the theory 
 that makes you willing still to trust me is mistaken. I 
 know that there is not a minute in this day when my head 
 has not been perfectly clear." 
 
 " My dear fellow, you must allow me to keep what 
 theory I please. There is no other explanation than this, 
 and you would be wisest if you accepted it yourself." 
 
 " That is impossible," said Frithiof, sadly. 
 
 " It is equally impossible that I can doubt the evidence 
 of my own senses. The note was there, and you can't 
 possibly explain its presence. How is it possible that 
 Darnell could have crossed over to your till, take out the 
 note, and pinned it in your pocket ? Besides, what motive 
 could he have for doing such a thing ? " 
 
 " I don't know," said Frithiof; " yet I shall swear to my 
 dying day that I never did it myself." 
 
 " Well, there is no use in arguing the point," said Robert 
 Boniface, wearily. " It is enough for me that I can account 
 to myself for what must otherwise be an extraordinary 
 mystery. You had better go back to your work now, and 
 do not worry over the affair. Remember that I do not 
 hold you responsible for what has happened." 
 
 After this of course nothing more could be said. Fri- 
 thiof left the room feeling years older than when he had 
 entered it, and with a heavy heart took that first miserable 
 plunge into the outer world the world where he must now 
 expect to meet with suspicious looks and cold dislike. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 As he walked down the sort of avenue of pianos and har- 
 moniums in the inner shop, there came to his mind, why, 
 he could not have told, words spoken to him long before 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 293 
 
 by that customer who had left on his mind so lasting an 
 impression, " Courage ! the worst will pass." Though he 
 could not exactly believe the words, yet he clung to them 
 with a sort of desperation. Also he happened to notice 
 the clock, and practically adopted Sydney Smith's wise 
 maxim, "Take short views." There -were exactly two 
 hours and a quarter before closing time, he could at any 
 rate endure as long as that, and of the future he would not 
 think. There were no customers in the shop, but he could 
 hear voices in eager discussion, and he knew quite well 
 what was the subject of their talk. Of course the instant he 
 came into sight a dead silence ensued, and the little group, 
 consisting of Foster, Darnell, one of the tuners, and the boy 
 who made himself generally useful, dispersed at once, while 
 in the ominous quiet Frithiof went to his usual place. The 
 first few minutes were terrible ; he sat down at his desk, 
 took up his pen, and opened the order-book, making a 
 feint of being actually employed, but conscious only of the 
 dreadful silence and of the eyes that glanced curiously at 
 him ; again a burning flush passed over his face, just from 
 the horror and shame of even being suspected of dishon- 
 esty. It was a relief to him when a customer entered, a 
 man entirely ignorant of all that had passed, and only bent 
 on securing the best seats to be had for Mr. Boniface's 
 concert on the following day. Carlo Donati, the celebrated 
 baritone, was to sing, and as he had only appeared once 
 before that season, except in opera, there was a great 
 demand for tickets, which kept them pretty busy until at 
 length the longed-for closing came ; the other men lingered 
 a little to discuss afresh the great event of the day, but Fri- 
 thiof, who had been watching the hands of the clock with 
 longing eyes, felt as if he could not have borne the atmos- 
 phere of the shop for another minute, and snatching up his 
 hat made for- the door. None of them said good-night to 
 him; they were not intentionally unkind, Irit they were 
 awkward, and they felt that the strange affair of the after- 
 
294 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 noon had made a great gulf between them and the culprit 
 However, Frithiof was past caring much for trifles, for after 
 the first moment of intense relief, as he felt the cool eve- 
 ning air blowing on him, the sense of another trouble to 
 be met had overpowered all else. He had got somehow to 
 tell Sigrid of his disgrace, to bring the cloud which shadowed 
 him into the peaceful home that had become so dear to 
 him. Very slowly he walked through the noisy streets, very 
 reluctantly crossed the great court-yard, and mounted 
 flight after flight of stairs. At the threshold he hesitated, 
 wondering whether it would be possible to shield them from 
 the knowledge. He could hear Sigrid singing in the kitchen 
 as she prepared the supper, and something told him that it 
 would be impossible to conceal his trouble from her. With 
 a sigh he opened the door into the sitting-room ; it looked 
 very bright and cheerful, Swanhild stood at the open win- 
 dow watering the flowers in the window-box, red and white 
 'geraniums and southernwood, grown from cuttings given 
 by Cecil. She gave him her usual merry greeting. 
 
 " Come and look at my garden, Frithiof," she said. 
 " Doesn't it look lovely ? " 
 
 " Why, you are late," said Sigrid, coming in with the 
 cocoa, her face a little flushed with the fire, which was try- 
 ing on that summer-day. Then, glancing at him, " How 
 tired you look ! Come, sit down and eat. I have got a 
 German sausage that even Herr Sivertsen would not 
 grumble at. The heat has tired you, and you will feel 
 better after you have had something." 
 
 He ate obediently, though the food almost choked him, 
 Swanhild, fancying that he had one of hi bad headaches, 
 grew quiet, and afterward was not surprised to find that 
 he did not as usual get out his writing materials, but asked 
 Sigrid to go out with him for a turn. 
 
 '-'You are too tired to try the translating? " she asked. 
 
 "Yes, I'll try it later," he said; "but let us have half an 
 hour's walk together now." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 295 
 
 She consented at once and went to put on her hat, well 
 knowing that Frithiof never shirked his work without good 
 reason ; then, leaving strict orders with Swanhild not to sit 
 up after nine, they left her absorbed in English history, and 
 went down into the cool, clear twilight. Some children 
 were playing quietly in the court-yard ; Sigrid stopped for 
 a minute to speak to one of them. 
 
 " Is your father better this evening ? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes, miss, and he's a-goin' back to work to-morrow," 
 replied the child, lifting a beaming face up to the friendly 
 Norwegian lady, who had become a general favourite 
 among her neighbours. 
 
 " That is one of the little Hallifields," explained Sigrid, 
 as they passed on. " The father, you know, is a tram-car 
 conductor, and the work is just killing him by inches; 
 some day you really must have a talk with him and just 
 hear what terrible hours he has to keep. It makes me 
 sick to think of it. How I wish you were in Parliament, 
 Frithiof, and could do something to put down all the 
 grievances that we are forever coming across ! " 
 
 " There was once a time when at home we used to dream 
 that I might even be a king's minister," said Frithiof. 
 
 Something in his voice made her sorry for her last speech ; 
 she knew that one of his fits of depression had seized him. 
 
 lm So we did, and perhaps after all you may be. It was 
 always, you know, through something very disagreeable that 
 in the old stories the highest wish was attained. Remember 
 the ' Wild Swans.' And even ' Cinderella' has that thought 
 running through it. We are taught the same thing from 
 our nursery days upward. And, you know, though there 
 are some drawbacks, I think living like this, right among 
 the people, is a splendid training. One can understand 
 their troubles so much better." 
 
 " I should have thought you had troubles enough of 
 your own," he said, moodily, " without bothering yourself 
 with other people's." 
 
296 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " But since our own troubles I have somehotv cared more 
 about them ; I don't feel afraid as I used to do of sick 
 people, and people who have lost those belonging to them. 
 I want always to get nearer to them." 
 
 " Sigrid," he said, desperately, " can you bear a fresh 
 trouble for yourself? I have bad news for you to-night." 
 
 Her heart seemed to stop beating. 
 
 " Roy," she asked, breathlessly, her mind instinctively 
 turning first to fears for his safety. 
 
 At any other time Frithiof would have guessed the truth 
 through that tremulous, unguarded question, which had 
 escaped her involuntarily. But he was too miserable to 
 notice it then. 
 
 " Oh, no, Roy is still at Paris. They heard to-day that 
 he could not be back in time for the concert. It is I who 
 have brought this trouble on you. Though how it came 
 about God only knows. Listen, and I'll tell you exactly 
 how everything happened." 
 
 By this time they had reached one of the parks, and they 
 sat down on a bench under the shade of a great elm- tree. 
 Frithiof could not bear to look at Sigrid, could not endure 
 to watch the effect of his words, he fixed his eyes on the 
 smutty sheep that were feeding on the grass opposite him. 
 Then very quietly and minutely he told exactly what had 
 passed that afternoon. 
 
 " I am glad," she exclaimed, when he paused, " that Mr. 
 Boniface was so kind. And yet, how can he think that of 
 'you ? " 
 
 " You do not think it, then ? " he asked, looking her 
 full in the face. 
 
 "What! think tnat you took it in absence of mind? 
 Think that it would be possible for you deliberately to take 
 it out of the till and pin it in your own pocket ! Why, of 
 course not ! In actual delirium, I suppose, a man might 
 do anything, but you are as strong and well as any one else. 
 Of course, you had nothing whatever to do with it, either 
 consciously or unconsciously." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 297 
 
 " Yet the thing was somehow there, and the logical 
 inference is, that I must have put it there," he said, 
 scanning her face with keen attention. 
 
 " I don't care a fig for logical inference," she cried, with 
 a little vehement motion of her foot. " All I know is that 
 you had nothing whatever to do with it. If I had to die for 
 maintaining that, I would say it with my last breath." 
 
 He caught her hand in his, and held it fast. 
 
 " If you still believe in me the worst is over," he said. 
 " With the rest of the world, of course, my character is 
 gone, but there is no help for that." 
 
 " But there must be help," said Sigrid. " Someone else 
 must be guilty. The other man in the shop must certainly 
 have put it there." 
 
 " For what purpose ? " said Frithiof, sadly. " Besides, 
 how could he have done it without my knowledge ? " 
 
 " I don't know," said Sigrid, beginning to perceive the 
 difficulties of the case. " What sort of a man is he ? " 
 
 " I used to dislike him at first, and he naturally disliked 
 me because I was a foreigner. But latterly we have got 
 on well enough. He is a very decent sort of fellow, and I 
 don't for a moment believe that he would steal." 
 
 " One of you must have done it," said Sigrid. " And, as 
 I certainly never could believe that you did it, I am forced 
 to think the other man guilty." 
 
 Frithiof was silent. If he did not agree with her, was 
 he not bound to accept Mr. Boniface's theory ? The hor- 
 rible mystery of the affair was almost more than he could 
 endure ; his past had been miserable enough, but he had 
 never known anything equal to the misery of being inno- 
 cent, yet absolutely unable to prove his innocence. Sigrid, 
 glancing at him anxiously, could see even in the dim 
 twilight what a heavy look of trouble clouded his face^ 
 and resolutely turning from the puzzling question of how the 
 mystery could be explained, she set herself to make as light 
 of the whole affair as was possible. 
 
298 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " Look, Frithiof," she said ; " Why should we waste 
 time and strength in worrying over this ? After all, what 
 difference does it make to us in ourselves ? Business hours 
 must, of course, be disagreeable enough to you, but at home 
 you must forget the disagreeables ; at home you are my 
 hero, unjustly accused, and bearing the penalty of another's 
 crime." 
 
 He smiled a little, touched by her eagerness of tone, and 
 cheered, in spite of himself, by her perfect faith in him. 
 Yet all through the night he tossed to and fro in sleepless 
 misery, trying to find some possible explanation of the 
 afternoon's mystery, racking his brain to think of all that he 
 had done or said since that unlucky hour when Sardoni 
 had asked for change. 
 
 The next morning, as a natural consequence, he began 
 the day with a dull, miserable headache ; at breakfast he 
 hardly spoke, and he set off for business looking so ill that 
 Sigrid wondered whether he could possibly get through his 
 work. It was certainly strange, she could not help think- 
 ing, that fate seemed so utterly against him, and that when 
 at last his life was beginning to look brighter, he should 
 again be the victim of another's fault. And then, with a 
 sort of comfort, there flashed into her mind an idea which 
 almost reconciled her to his lot. What if these obstacles 
 so hard to be surmounted, these difficulties that hemmed 
 him in so persistently, were after all only the equivalent 
 to the physical dangers and difficulties of the life of the old 
 Vikings ? Did it not, in truth, need greater courage and 
 endurance for the nineteenth-century Frithiof to curb all 
 his natural desires and instincts and toil at uncongenial 
 work in order to pay of his father's debts, than for Frithiof 
 of olden times to face all the dangers of the sea, and of foes 
 spiritual and temporal who beset him when he went to win 
 back the lost tribute money ? It was, after all, a keen 
 pleasure to the old Frithiof to fight with winds and waves ; 
 but it was a hard struggle to the modem Frithiof to stand 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 299 
 
 behind a counter day after day. And then, again, was it 
 not less bitter for the Frithiof of the Saga to be suspected 
 of sacrilege, than for Frithiof Falck to be suspected of the 
 most petty and contemptible act of dishonesty? 
 
 She was right. Anything however painful and difficult 
 would have been gladly encountered by poor Frithiof if it 
 could have spared him that miserable return to his old 
 place in Mr. Boniface's shop. And that day's prosaic 
 work needed greater moral courage than any previous day 
 of his life. 
 
 About half-past nine there arrived a telegram which did 
 not mend matters. Mr. Boniface was seriously unwell, 
 would not be' in town that day, and could not be at St. 
 James' Hall that evening for the concert. Mr. Horner 
 would take his place. Frithiof's heart sank at this news ; 
 and when presently the fussy, bumptious, little man en- 
 tered the shop the climax of his misery was reached. 
 Mr. Horner read the telegram with a disturbed air. 
 
 " Dear ! d^ar ! seriously ill, I'm afraid, or he would at 
 least make in. effort to come to-night. But after all the 
 annoyance of yesterday I am not surprised no, not at all. 
 Such a thing has never happened in his business before, 
 ay, Mr. Foster?" 
 
 " Oh, no, sir," said the foreman in a low voice, sorry in 
 his heart for the young Norwegian, who could not avoid 
 hearing every word. 
 
 li it was quite enough to make him ill. Such a disgrace- 
 ful affair in a house of this class. For his own sake he 
 does well to hush it up, though I intend to see that all 
 proper precautions are taken; upon that, at any rate, I 
 insist. If I had my own way there should have been none 
 of this misplaced leniency. Here, William ! " and he 
 beckoned to the boy, who was irreverently flicking the 
 bust of Mozart with a duster. 
 
 " Yes, sir," said William, who being out of the trouble 
 himself, secretly rather enjoyed the commotion it had 
 caused. 
 
3 oc A If A RDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " Go at once to Smith, the ironmonger, and order him 
 to send some one round to fix a spring bell on a till. Da 
 you understand ? " 
 
 " Quite, sir," replied William, unable to resist glancing 
 across the counter. 
 
 Frithiof went on arranging some music which had just 
 arrived, but he flushed deeply, and Mr. Horner, glad to 
 have found a vulnerable point of attack, did not scruple to 
 make the most of his opportunity. Never, surely, did 
 ironmonger do his work so slowly ! Never, surely, did an 
 employer give so such of his valuable time to directing 
 exactly what was to be done, and superintending an affair 
 about which he knew nothing. But the fixing of that 
 detestable bell gave Mr. Horner a capital excuse for being 
 in the shop at Frithiof s elbow, and every word and look 
 conveyed such insulting suspicion of the Norwegian that 
 honest old Foster began to feel angry. 
 
 " Why should I mind this vulgar brute ? " thought Fri- 
 thiof, as he forced himself to go on with his work with the 
 air of quiet determination which Mr. Horner detested. 
 But all the same he did care, and it was the very vulgarity 
 of the attack that made him inwardly wince. His head- 
 ache grew worse and worse, while in maddening monotony 
 came the sounds of piano-tuning from the inner shop, 
 hammering and bell-ringing at the till close by, and covert 
 insults and inuendoes from the grating voice of James 
 Horner. How much an employer can do for those in his 
 shop, how close and cordial the relation may be, he had 
 learned from his intercourse witn Mr. Boniface. He now 
 learned the opposite truth, that no position affords such 
 constant opportunities for petty tyranny if the head of the 
 firm happens to be mean or prejudiced. The miserable 
 hours dragged on somehow, and at last, late in the after- 
 noon, Foster came up to him with a message. 
 
 " Mr. Horner wishes to speak to you," he said ; " I will 
 take your place here." Then, lowering his voice cautious- 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN 1 . 301 
 
 ly, " It's my opinion, Mr. Falck, that he is trying to goad 
 you into resigning, or into an impertinent answer which 
 Ivould be sufficient to cause your dismissal." 
 
 " Thank you for the warning," said Frithiof gratefully, 
 and a little encouraged by the mere fact that the foreman 
 cared enough for him to speak in such a way, he went to 
 the private room, determined to be on his guard and not 
 to let pride or anger get the better of his dignity. 
 
 Mr. Homer replied to his knock, but did not glance 
 round as he entered the room. 
 
 " You wished to speak to me, sir ? " asked Frithiof. 
 
 ' Yes, when I have finished this letter. You can wait," 
 said Mr. Homer ungraciously. 
 
 He waited quietly, thinking to himself how different was 
 the manner both of Mr. Boniface and of his son, who were 
 always as courteous to their employe's as to their custom- 
 ers, and would have thought themselves as little justified 
 in using such a tone to one of the men as of employing 
 the slave whip. 
 
 Mr. Horner, flattering himself that he was producing an 
 impression and emphasizing the difference between their 
 respective positions, finished his letter, signed his name 
 with a flourish characteristic of his opinion of himself, then 
 swung round his chair and glanced at Frithiof. 
 
 " Mr. Boniface left no instructions as to whether you 
 were to attend as usual at St. James' Hall to-night," he 
 began. " But since no one else is used to the work I sup- 
 pose there is no help for it." 
 
 He paused, apparently expecting some rejoinder, but 
 Frithiof merely stood there politely attentive. 
 
 " Since you know the work, and are used to it, you had 
 better attend as usual, for I should be vexed if any hitch 
 should occur in the arrangements. But understand, pray, 
 that I strongly disapprove of your remaining in our employ 
 at all, and that it is only out of necessity that I submit 
 to it, for I consider you unfit to mix with respectable 
 people." 
 
3 o2 A HARDY NORSEMAN". 
 
 Whatever the Norwegian felt, he managed to preserve a 
 perfectly unmoved aspect. Mr. Horner, who wanted to 
 stir him into indignant expostulation, was sorely disap- 
 pointed that his remarks fell so flat. 
 
 " I see you intend to brazen it out," he said crushingly. 
 " But you don't deceive me. You may leave the room, 
 and take good care that all the arrangements to-night are 
 properly carried out." 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Frithiof, with the quietness of one who 
 knows that he remains master of the situation. But after- 
 ward, when he was once more in the shop, the insults 
 returned to his mind with full force, and lay rankling there 
 for many a day to come. Owing to the concert, his 
 release came a little sooner than usual, and it was not much 
 after seven when Sigrid heard him at the door. His face 
 frightened her ; it looked so worn and harassed. 
 
 " You will have time for some supper ? " she asked 
 pleadingly. 
 
 " No," he said, passing by her quickly, " I am not 
 hungry, and must change my clothes and be off again." 
 
 c< He might fancy some coffee," said Sigrid to herself. 
 " Quick, Swanhild, run and get it ready while I boil the 
 water. There is nothing like strong cafe noir when one 
 is tired out." 
 
 Perhaps it did him some good ; and the glimpse of his 
 home certainly cheered him, yet, nevertheless, he was 
 almost ready that night to give up everything in despair. 
 
 Physical exhaustion had dulled the glow of inner comfort 
 that had come to him on the previous day. In his miser- 
 able depression all his doubts assailed him once more. 
 Was there any rule of justice after all ? Was there any- 
 thing in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, but cruel 
 lust of power, and absolute indifference to suffering? His 
 old hatred against those who succeeded once more filled 
 his heart, and though at one time he had felt curious to see 
 Donati, and had heard all that Cecil had to say in favour 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN*. 303 
 
 of the Italian's courage and unselfishness, yet now, in his 
 bitterness of soul, he began to hate the man merely because 
 of his popularity. " I detest these conceited, set-up idols 
 of the public," he thought to himself. " When all men 
 speak well of a fellow it is time to suspect him. His good- 
 ness and all the rest of it is probably all calculation a sort 
 of advertisement ! " 
 
 The architects of most English music-halls have scant 
 regard for the comfort of the artistes. It often used to 
 strike Frithiof as a strange thing that in the Albert Hall, 
 singers, whose health and strength were of priceless value, 
 had to wait about in draughty, sloping passages, on un- 
 comfortable chairs, while at St. James' Hall they had only 
 the option of marching up and down a cold, stone stair- 
 case to the cloak-room between every song, or of sitting in 
 the dingy little den opening on to the platform-steps a 
 den which resembles a family pew in a meeting-house. 
 Here, sitting face to face on hard benches, were ranged to- 
 night many of the first singers of the day. There was 
 Sardoni, the good natured English tenor and composer. 
 There was Mme. Sardoni-Borelli, with her noble and strik- 
 ing face and manner ; besides a host of other celebrities, 
 all the more dear to the audience because for years and 
 years they had been giving their very best to the nation. 
 iJut Carlo Donati had not yet arrived, and Mr. Horner 
 kept glancing anxiously through the glass doors on to the 
 staircase in hopes of catching sight of the great baritone. 
 Frithiof lived through it all like a man in a dream, watched 
 a young English tenor who was to make his first appear- 
 ance that night, saw him walking to and fro in a 
 tremendous state of nervousness, heard the poor fellow 
 sing badly enough, and watched him plunge down the steps 
 again, amid the very faint applause of the audience. Next 
 came the turn of Mme. Sardoni-Borelli. Her husband 
 handed her the song she was to sing, she gave some direc- 
 tions to the accompanist as to the key in which she wanted 
 
304 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 it played, and mounted the platform with a composed 
 dignity that contrasted curiously with the manner of the 
 debutant who had preceded her. Mr. Horner turned to 
 Frithiof at that moment. 
 
 " Go and see whether Signer Donati has come," he said. 
 " His song is next on the programme." 
 
 " Ah," said Sardoni, with a smile, " he is such a tremen- 
 dous fellow for home, he never comes a moment too soon, 
 and at the theatre often runs it even closer than this. He 
 is the quickest dresser I ever knew, though, and is never 
 behind time." 
 
 Frithiof made his way to the cloak-room, and, as he 
 walked through the narrow room leading to it, he could 
 distinctly hear the words of someone within. The voice 
 seemed familiar to him. 
 
 "Badly received? Well you only failed because of 
 nervousness. In your second song you will be more used 
 to things, and, you will see, it will go much better." 
 
 " But you surely can never have had the same difficulty to 
 struggle with ? " said the young tenor, who, with a downcast 
 face, stood talking to the newly arrived baritone. 
 
 " Never ! " exclaimed the other, with a laugh which rang 
 through the room. " Ask Sardoni ! He'll tell you of my 
 first appearance." 
 
 Then, as Frithiof gave his message, the speaker turned 
 round and revealed to the Norwegian that face which had 
 fascinated him so strangely just before his illness a face 
 not only beautiful in outline and colouring, but full of an 
 undefined charm, which made all theories as to the con- 
 ceit and Uojectionableness of successful men fall to the 
 ground. 
 
 " Thank you," he said, bowing in reply ; " I will come 
 down at once." Then turning again to the debutant with 
 a smile, " You see, through failing to get an encore that 
 you ought to have deserved, you have nearly made me 
 behind time. Never mind, you will get a very hearty one 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 305 
 
 in the second part to make up. Come down with me, v/on't 
 you ? It is far better fun in that family pew below than 
 up here. Clinton Cleve is here, isn't he? Have you been 
 introduced to him ? " 
 
 The young man replied in the negative, Frithiof per- 
 ceived that the idea had cheered him up wonderfully, and 
 knew that a word from the veteran tenor might be of great 
 use to a beginner. 
 
 " I'll introduce you," said Donati as they went dow~ 
 the stairs. Frithiof held open the swing-doors for them 
 and watched with no small curiosity the greeting between 
 Donati and the other artistes. His manner was so very 
 simple that it was hard to realise that he was indeed the 
 man about whom all Europe was raving ; but, nevertheless, 
 he had somehow brought a sort of new atmosphere into 
 the place, and even Mr. Homer seemed conscious of this, 
 for he was less fidgety and fussy than usual, and even 
 seemed willing to keep in the background. There was a 
 hearty greeting to Madame Sardoni as she came down the 
 steps and a brisk little conversation in the interval ; then, 
 having wrapped her shawl about her again, talking brightly 
 all the while, Donati picked up his music and stepped on 
 to the platform. It was only then that Frithiof realised 
 how great was his popularity, for he was greeted raptur- 
 ously, and certainly he well merited the thunder of applause 
 which broke forth again at the close of a song which had 
 been given with unrivalled delicacy of expression and with 
 all the charm of his wonderful voice. For the time Frithiof 
 forgot everything ; he was carried far away from all con- 
 sciousness of disgrace and wretchedness, far away from all 
 recollection of Mr. Horner's presence ; he could only look 
 in astonishment and admiration at the singer, who stood 
 laughing and talking with Sardoni, periodically mounting 
 the platform to bow his acknowledgments to the audi- 
 ence who still kept up their storm of applause. When at 
 length he had convinced them that he did not intend *o 
 
306 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 sing again, he began to talk to Clinton Cleve, and soon had 
 won for the young debutant a few minutes' kindly talk with 
 the good-natured old singer who, though he had been the 
 idol of the British public for many years, had not forgotten 
 the severe ordeal of a first appearance. The young tenor 
 brightened visibly, and when he sang again acquitted him- 
 self so well that he won the encore which Donati had 
 prophesied. 
 
 All went smoothly until, early in the second part, the 
 Italian baritone was to sing a song with violin obligato. 
 By some unlucky accident Frithiof forgot to place the 
 music-stand for the violinist ; and perceiving this as soon 
 as they were on the platform, Donati himself brought it 
 forward and put it in position. It was but a trifling occur- 
 rence, but quite sufficient to rouse Mr. Horner. When 
 the singer returned he apologised to him profusely, and 
 turned upon Frithiof with a rebuke, the tone of which 
 made Donati's eyes flash. 
 
 " Pray do not make so much of it," he said with a touch 
 of dignity in his manner. Then returning again from one 
 of his journeys to the platform, and noticing the expression 
 on Frithiof s face, he paused to speak to him for a moment 
 before returning to give the encore that was emphatically 
 demanded. It was not so much what he said as his 
 manner of saying it that caused Frithiof 's face to brighten, 
 and brought a frown to James Horner's brow. 
 
 " It is merely my duty to enlighten Signor Donati," said 
 the little man to himself" merely my duty 1 " 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 CARLO DONATI had considerable insight into character ; 
 not only had he been born with this gift, but his wandering 
 life had brought him into contact with all sorts and condi- 
 tions of men, and had been an excellent education to one 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN*. 307 
 
 who had always known how to observe. He was> more- 
 over, of so sympathetic a temperament that he could 
 generally tell in a moment when trouble was in the air, and 
 the ridiculously trivial affair about the music-stand, which 
 could not have dwelt in his mind for a minute on its own 
 account, opened his eyes to the relations existing between 
 Mr. Homer and the Norwegian. That something was 
 wrong with the latter he had perceived when Frithiof had 
 first spoken to him in the cloak-room, and now, having 
 inadvertently been the cause of bringing upon him a severe 
 rebuke, he was determined to make what amends lay in 
 his power. 
 
 He cut short Mr. Homer's flattering remarks and reiter- 
 ated apologies as to the slight contretemps. 
 
 " It is of no consequence at all," he said. " By-the-by, 
 what is the nationality of that young fellow? I like his 
 face." 
 
 " He is Norwegian," replied Mr. Homer, glancing at 
 Frithiof, who was arranging the platform for Madame 
 Gauthier, the pianiste. 
 
 " You think, no doubt, that I spoke too severely to him 
 just now, but you do not realise what a worthless fellow he 
 is. My partner retains him merely out of charity, but he 
 has been proved to be unprincipled and dishonest." 
 
 The last few words reached Frithiof distinctly as he 
 came down the steps, he turned ghastly pale, his very lips 
 grew white ; it was as though some one had stabbed him 
 as he re-entered the little room, and the eyes that turned 
 straight to the eyes of the Italian were full of a dumb 
 anguish which Donati never forgot. Indignant with the 
 utter want of kindness and tact which Mr. Horner had 
 shown, he turned abruptly away without making the 
 slightest comment on the words, but often through the 
 evening, when Frithiof was engrossed in other things, 
 Donati quietly watched him, and the more he saw of him 
 the less was he able to believe in the truth of the accusa- 
 tion. Meantime he was waiting for his opportunity, but he 
 was unable to get a word with the Norwegian until the end 
 of the concert, when he met him on the stairs. 
 
 " Are you at liberty? " he asked. " Is your work here 
 over? " 
 
 Frithiof replied in the affirmative, and offered to look for 
 the great baritone's carriage, imagining that this must be 
 the reason he had addressed him. 
 
3 o8 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " Oh, as to the carriage ! " said Donati easily, " it will 
 be waiting at the corner of Sackville Street. But I wanted 
 a few minutes' talk with you, and first of all to apologise 
 for having been the unwilling hearer of that accusation, 
 which I am quite sure is false." 
 
 Frithiof s clouded face instantly cleared ; all the old 
 brightness returned for a moment to his frank, blue eyes, 
 and, forgetful of the fact that he was not in Norway, and 
 that Donati was the idolised public singer, he grasped the 
 hand of the Italian with that fervent, spontaneous gratitude 
 which is so much more eloquent than words. 
 
 " Thank you," he said simply. 
 
 "Well, now, is it possible for an outsider to help in 
 unravelling the mystery ? " said Donati. " For when a man 
 like you is acccused in this way I take it for granted there 
 must be a mystery." 
 
 "No one can possibly explain it," said Frithiof, the 
 troubled look returning to his face. " I can't tell in the 
 least how the thing happened, but appearances were 
 altogether against me. It is the most extraordinary affair, 
 but God knows I had no hand in it." 
 
 " I want to hear all about it," said Donati with that 
 eagerness of manner and warmth of interest which made 
 him so devotedly loved by thousands. " I am leaving 
 England to-morrow ; can't you come back and have supper 
 with me now, and let me hear this just as it all happened ? " 
 
 Even if he had wished to refuse, Frithiof could hardly 
 have done so ; and, as it was, he was so miserable that he 
 would have caught at much less hearty sympathy. They 
 walked along the crowded pavement toward Sackville 
 Street, and had almost reached the carriage when a conver- 
 sation immediately behind them became distinctly audible. 
 
 " They make such a fuss over this Donati," said the 
 speaker. " But I happen to know that he's a most disrep- 
 utable character. I was hearing all about him the other 
 day from some one who used to know him intimately. 
 They say, you know, that " 
 
 Here the conversation died away in the distance, and 
 what that curse of modern society the almighty " THEY" 
 said as to Donati's private affairs remained unknown to 
 him. 
 
 Frithiof glanced at the singer's face. Apparently he had 
 not yet reached those sublime heights where insults cease 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 309 
 
 from troubling and slanders fail to sting. He was still 
 young, and naturally had the disadvantages as well as the 
 immense gains of a sensitive artistic temperament. A gleam 
 of fierce anger swept over his face, and was quickly 
 succeeded by a pained look that made Frithiofs heart hot 
 within him ; in silence the Italian opened the door of the 
 carriage, signed to Frithiof to get in, .and they drove off 
 together. 
 
 " No matter," said Donati in a minute speaking reflect- 
 ively, and as if he were alone. " I do not sing for a gossip- 
 ing public. I sing for Christ." 
 
 " But that they should dare to say such a thing as that ! " 
 exclaimed Frithiof, growing more and more indignant as 
 his companion's serenity returned. 
 
 " For one's self," said Donati, " it is well not much ; 
 but for the sake of those belonging to one it certainly does 
 carry a sting. But every one who serves the public in a 
 public capacity is in the same boat. Statesmen, artists, 
 authors, actors, all must endure this plague of tongues. 
 And, after all, it merely affects one's reputation, not one's 
 character. It doesn't make one immoral to be considered 
 immoral, and it doesn't make you a thief to be considered 
 dishonest. But now I want to hear about this accusation 
 of Mr. Homer's. When did it all happen ? " 
 
 In the dim light Frithiof told his story; it was a relief to 
 tell it to sympathetic ears ; Donati's faith in him seemed to 
 fill him with new life, and though the strange events of that 
 miserable Monday did not grow any clearer in the telling, 
 yet somehow a hope began to dawn in his heart. 
 
 " It certainly is most unaccountable," said Donati, as the 
 carriage drew up before a pretty little villa in Avenue 
 Road. He paused to speak to the coachman. " We shall 
 want the carriage in time to go to the o. J.Q train at Charing 
 Cross, Wilson; good-night." 
 
 " But if you start so early," said Frithiof, " I had better 
 not hinder you any longer." 
 
 " You do not hinder me ; I am very much interested. 
 You must certainly come in to supper, and afterward I 
 want to hear more about this. How unlucky it was that 
 the five-pound note should have been' changed that day by 
 Sardoni ? " 
 
 ^ At this moment the door was opened ; Frithiof caught a 
 vision of a slim figure in a pale rose-coloured tea-gown, and 
 
3 io A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 the loveliest face he had ever seen was raised to kiss Donati 
 as he entered. 
 
 " How nice and early you are," exclaimed a fresh, merry 
 voice. Then catching sight of a stranger, and blushing a 
 little, she added, " I fancied it was Jack and Domenica you 
 were bringing back with you." 
 
 " Let me introduce you to my wife, Herr Falck," said 
 Donati, and Frithiof instantly understood that here lay the 
 explanation of the Italian's faultless English, since, despite 
 her foreign name, it was impossible for a moment to mis- 
 take Francesca Donati's nationality. 
 
 The house was prettily, but very simply, furnished, and 
 about it there was that indefinable air of home that Frithiof 
 had so often noticed in Rowan Tree House. 
 
 " You must forgive a very unceremonious supper, Herr 
 Falck," said Francesca, herself making ready the extra 
 place that was needed at table. " But, the fact is, I have 
 sent all the servants to bed, for I knew they would have to 
 be up early to-morrow, and they feel the travelling a good 
 deal." 
 
 " Much more than you and I do," said Donati. " We 
 have grown quite hardened to it." 
 
 " Then this is not your regular home ? " asked Frithiof. 
 
 " Yes, it is our English home. We generally have five 
 months here and five at Naples, with the rest of the time 
 either at Paris, or Berlin, or Vienna. After all, a wander- 
 ing life makes very little difference when you can carry about 
 your home with you." 
 
 " And baby is the best traveller in the world," said Do- 
 nati, " and in every way the most model baby. I think," 
 glancing at his wife, " that she is as true a gypsy as Gigi 
 himself." 
 
 " Poor Gigi ! he can't bear being left behind ! By-the- 
 by, had you time to take him back to school before the 
 concert, or did he go alone ? " 
 
 " I had just time to take him," said Donati, waiting upon 
 Frithiof as he talked. " He was rather doleful, poor old 
 man ; but cheered up when I told him that he was to spend 
 the summer holidays at Merlebank, and to come to Naples 
 at Christmas. It is a nephew of mine of whom we speak," 
 he explaimed to Frithiof; "and, of course, his education 
 has to be thought of, and can not always fit in with my 
 engagements. You go in very much for education in Nor- 
 way, I understand ? " 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 311 
 
 Frithiof found himself talking quite naturally and com- 
 posedly about Norwegian customs and his former life, and 
 it was not until afterward that it struck him as a strange 
 thing that on the very day after his disgrace, when, but for 
 Mr. Boniface's kindness, he might actually have been in 
 prison, he should be quietly, and even for the time happily, 
 talking of the old days. Nor was it until afterward that he 
 realised how much his interview with the great baritone 
 would'have been coveted by many in a very different posi- 
 tion ; for Donati would not go into London society though 
 it was longing to lionise him. His wife did not care for it, 
 and he himself said that with his art, his home, and his own 
 intimate friends, no time was left for the wearing gayeties 
 of the season. The world grumbled, but he remained 
 resolute, for, though always ready to help any one who was 
 in trouble, and without the least touch of exclusiveness 
 about him, he could not endure the emptiness and wasteful- 
 ness of the fashionable world. Moreover, while applause 
 that was genuinely called forth by his singing never failed 
 to give him great pleasure, the flatteries of celebrity-hunt- 
 ers were intolerable to him, so that he lost nothing and 
 gained much by the quiet life which he elected to lead. It 
 was said of the great actor Phelps that " His theatre and 
 his home were alike sacred to him as the Temple of God." 
 And the same might well have been said of Donati, while 
 something of the' calm of the Temple seemed to lurk about 
 the quiet little villa, where refinement and comfort reigned 
 supreme, but where no luxuries were admitted. Francesca 
 had truly said that the wandering life made very little dif- 
 ference to them, for wherever they went they made for 
 themselves that ideal home which had been beautifully 
 described as 
 
 " A world of strife shut out, 
 A world of love shut in." 
 
 They did not linger long over the supper-table, for 
 Frithiof was suffering too much to eat, and Donati, like 
 most of his countrymen, had a very small appetite. Fran- 
 cesca with a kindly good-night to the Norwegian went up- 
 stairs to her baby, and the two men drew their chairs up 
 to the open French window at the back of the room look- 
 ing on to the little garden, to which th^e moonlight gave a 
 certain mysterious charm, 
 
3 I2 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " I have thought over it," said Donati almost abruptly, 
 and as if the matter might naturally engross his thoughts 
 as much as those of his companion. " But I can't find the 
 very slightest clew. It is certainly a mystery." 
 
 " And must always remain so," said Frithiof, despair- 
 ingly. 
 
 " I do not think that at all. Some day all will probably 
 be explained. And be sure to let me hear when it is, for 
 I shall be anxious to know." 
 
 A momentary gleam of hope crossed Frithiof s face, but 
 the gloom quickly returned. 
 
 " It will never be explained," he said. " I was born 
 under an unlucky star ; at the very moment when all seems 
 well something has always interfered to spoil my life ; and 
 with my father it was exactly the same it was an unde- 
 served disgrace that actually killed him." 
 
 And then, to his own astonishment, he found himself 
 telling Donati, bit by bit, the whole of his own story. The 
 Italian said very little, but he listened intently, and in truth 
 possessed exactly the right characteristics for a confidant 
 rare sympathy, tact, and absolute faithfulness. To speak 
 out freely to such a man was the best thing in the world for 
 Frithiof; and Donati, who had himself had to battle with a 
 sea of troubles, understood him as a man who had suffered 
 less could not possibly have done. 
 
 " It is to this injustice," said Frithiof, as he ended his 
 tale, " to this unrighteous success of the mercenary and 
 scheming, and failure of the honourable, that Christianity 
 tells one to be resigned. It is that which sets me against 
 religion which makes it all seem false and illogical 
 actually immoral." 
 
 Probably Donati would not even have alluded to religion 
 had not his companion himself introduced the subject. 
 It was not his way to say much on such topics, but when 
 he did speak his words came with most wonderful direct- 
 ness and force. It was not so much that he said anything 
 noteworthy or novel, but that his manner had about it such 
 an intensity of conviction, such rare unconsciousness, and 
 such absolute freedom from all conventionality. " Pardon 
 me, if I venture to show you a flaw in your argument," he 
 said quietly. " You say we are told to be resigned. Very 
 well. But what is resignation ? It was well defined once 
 by a noble Russian writer, who said that it is ' placing God 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 313 
 
 between ourselves and our trouble.' There is nothing 
 illogical in that It is the merest common sense. When 
 finite things worry and perplex you, turn to the Infinite 
 from which they may be safely and peacefully viewed." 
 
 Frithiof thought of those words which had involuntarily 
 escaped his companion after the remark of the passer-by 
 in Piccadilly " No matter ! I do not sing for a gossiping 
 world." He began to undersand Donati better he longed 
 with an intensity of longing to be able to look at life with 
 such eyes as his. 
 
 " These things are so real to you," he said quickly. 
 " But to me they are only a hope or, if for an hour or 
 two real, they fade away again. It may be all very well 
 for you in your successful, happy life, but it is impossible 
 for me with everything against me." 
 
 " Impossible ! " exclaimed Donati, his eyes flashing, and 
 with something in his tone which conveyed volumes to the 
 Norwegian. 
 
 " If not impossible at any rate very difficult," he replied. 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Donati, his eyes full of sympathy. " It 
 is that to all of us. Don't think I make light of your 
 difficulties. It is hard to seek God in uncongenial sur- 
 roundings, in a life harrassed and misunderstood, and in 
 apparent failure. But don't let the hardness daunt you 
 . just go on." 
 
 The words were commonplace enough, but they were 
 full of a wonderful power, because there lurked beneath 
 them the assurance 
 
 " I have been through where ye must go ; 
 I have seen past the agony." 
 
 " Do you know," said Frithiof, smiling, " that is almost 
 what you said to me the first time I saw you. You have 
 forgotten it, but a year ago you said a few words to me 
 which kept me from making an end of myself in a fit of 
 despair. Do you remember coming to the shop about a 
 song of Knight's? " 
 
 " Why, yes," said Donati. " Was that really you ? It all 
 comes back to me now 1 remember you found the song 
 for me, though I had only the merest scrap of it, without 
 the composer's name." 
 
 * 4 It was just before my illness," said Frithiof. "I never 
 
314 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 forgot you, and recognized you the moment I saw you 
 to-nigh t. Somehow you saved my life then just by giving me 
 a hope." 
 
 Perhaps no greater contrast could have been found than 
 these two men who, by what seemed a mere chance, had 
 been thrown together so strangely. But Donati almost 
 always attracted to himself men of an opposite type ; as a 
 rule it was not the religious public that understood him or 
 appreciated him best ; it was the men of the world, and 
 those with whom he came in contact in his professional 
 life. To them his character appealed in a wonderful way, 
 and many who would have been ashamed to show any 
 enthusiasm, as a rule, made an exception in favor of this 
 man, who had somehow fascinated them, and compelled 
 them into a belief in goodness little in acco * *vith the 
 cynical creed they professed. 
 
 To Frithiof in his wretchedness, in his despairing rebel- 
 lion against'a fate which seemed relentlessly to pursue him, 
 the Italian's faith came with all the force of a new revela- 
 tion. He saw that the success, for which but a few hours 
 ago he had cordially hated the great singer, came from no 
 caprice of fortune, but from the way in which Donati had 
 used his gifts ; nor had the Italian all at once leaped into 
 fame, he had gone through a cruelly hard apprenticeship, 
 and had suffered so much that not even the severe test of 
 extreme popularity, wealth, and personal happiness could 
 narrow his sympathies, for all his life he would carry with 
 him the marks of a past conflict a conflict which had won 
 for him the name of the " Knight-errant." 
 
 The same single-hearted, generous nature which had 
 fitted him for that past work, fitted him now to be FrithioPs 
 friend. For men like Donati are knights-errant all their 
 life long ; they do not need a picturesque cause, or seek 
 a paying subject, but just travel through the world, succour- 
 ing those with whom they come in contact. The troubles 
 of the Norwegian, in his prosaic shop-life, were as much to 
 Donati as the troubles of any other man would have been ; 
 position and occupation were, to him, very insignificant 
 details ; he did not expend the whole of his sympathies on 
 the sorrows of East London, and shut his heart against 
 the griefs of the rich man at the West End ; nor was he so 
 engrossed with his poor Neapolitans that he could not 
 enter into the difficulties of a London shopman. He saw 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 315 
 
 that Frithiof was one of that great multitude who, through 
 the harshness and injustice of the world, find it almost 
 impossible to retain their faith in God, and, through the 
 perfidy of one woman, are robbed of the best safeguard 
 that can be had in life. His heart went out to the man, 
 and the very contrast of his present life, with its intense 
 happiness, quickened his sympathies. But what he said 
 Frithiof never repeated to any one, he could not have done 
 it even had he cared to try. When at length he rose to go, 
 Donati had, as it were, saved him from moral death, had 
 drawn him out of the slough of despond, and started him 
 with renewed hope on his way. 
 
 " Wait just one moment," he said as they stood by the 
 door ; " I will give you one of my cards and write on it the 
 I ialian address. There! Villa Valentino, Napoli. Don't 
 forget to write and tell me when this affair is all cleared 
 up." 
 
 Frithiof grasped his hand, and, again thanking him, 
 passed out into the quiet, moonlit street. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE events of Monday had cast a shadow over Rowan Tree 
 House. Cecil no longer sang as she went to and fro ; Mr. 
 Boniface was paying the penalty of a stormy interview late 
 on Monday evening with his partner, and was not well 
 enough to leave his room, and Mrs. Boniface looked grave 
 and sad, for she foresaw the difficulties in which Frithiof s 
 disgrace would involve others. 
 
 "I wish Roy had been at home," she said to her 
 daughter, as on the Wednesday afternoon, they sat together 
 on the veranda. 
 
 Cecil looked up for a moment from the little frock which 
 she was making for Gwen. 
 
 " If he had been at home, I can't help thinking that this 
 never would have happened," she said. " And I have a 
 sort of hope that he will find out some explanation of 
 it all." 
 
 " My dear, what explanation can there be but the one 
 that satisfies your father? " said Mrs. Boniface. "Frithiof 
 must have taken it in a fit of momentary aberration. But 
 
3 I6 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 the whole affair shows that he is not so strong yet as we 
 fancied, and I fear is a sign that all his life he will feel the 
 effects of his illness. It is that which makes me so sorry 
 for them all." 
 
 " I do not believe that he took it," said Cecil. Nothing 
 will ever make me believe that." 
 
 She stitched away fast at the little frock, in a sudden 
 panic, lest the tears which burned in her eyes should 
 attract her mother's notice. Great regret and sympathy 
 she might allow herself to show, for Frithiof was a friend 
 and a favourite of every one in the house ; but of the grief 
 that rilled her heart she must allow no trace to be seen, for 
 it would make her mother miserable to guess at the extent 
 of her unhappiness. 
 
 " Did you see him last night at the concert ? " asked 
 Mrs. Boniface. 
 
 " Yes/' said Cecil, choking back her tears : " just when 
 he arranged the platform. He was looking very ill and 
 worn." 
 
 " That is what I am so afraid of. He will go worrying 
 over this affair, and it is the very worst thing in the world 
 for him. I wish your father were better, and I would go 
 and have a talk with Sigrid ; but I hardly like to leave the 
 house. Plow would it be, dearie, if you went up and saw 
 them?" 
 
 " I should like to go," said Cecil quickly. " But it is no 
 use being there before seven, for Madame Lecher tier has 
 her classes so much later in this hot weather." 
 
 " Well, go up at seven, then, and have a good talk with 
 her ; make her understand that we none of us think a bit 
 the worse of him for it, and that we are vexed with Cousin 
 James for having been so disagreeable and harsh. You 
 might, if you like, go to meet Roy ; he comes back at 
 half-past eight, and he will bring you home again." 
 
 Cecil cheered up a good deal at this idea ; she took 
 Lance round the garden with her, that he might help her 
 to gather flowers for Sigrid, and even smiled a little when 
 of his own accord the little fellow brought her a beautiful 
 passion-flower which he had gathered from the house wall. 
 
 " This one's for my dear Herr Frithiof ! " he exclaimed, 
 panting a little with the exertions he had made to reach it. 
 "It's all for his own self, and I picked it for him, 'cause it's 
 his very favourite." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 317 
 
 t: You know, Cecil/ said her mother as she returned to 
 the. seat under the /eranda, and began to arrange the 
 flowers in a basket, " I have another theory as to this 
 affair. It happened exactly a week after that day at the 
 seaside when we all had such a terrible fright about Roy 
 and Sigrid. Frithiof had a long run in the sun, which you 
 remember was very hot that day ; then he had all the 
 excitement of rowing out and rescuing them, and though 
 at the time it seemed no strain on him at all, yet I think it 
 is quite possible that the shock may have brought back a 
 slight touch of the old trouble." 
 
 " And yet it seemed to do him good at the time," said 
 Cecil. " He looked so bright and fresh when he came 
 back. Besides, to a man accustomed as he once was to a 
 very active life, the rescue was, after all, no such great 
 exertion." 
 
 Mrs. Boniface sighed. 
 
 " It would grieve me to think that it was really caused 
 by that ; but if it is so, there is all the more reason that 
 they should clearly understand that the affair makes no 
 difference at all in our opinion of him. It is just possible 
 that it may be his meeting with Lady Romiaux which is 
 the cause. Sigrid told me they had accidentally come 
 across her again, and that it had tried him very much." 
 
 Cecil turned away to gather some ferns from the rockery ; 
 she could not bear to discuss that last suggestion. Later 
 on in the afternoon it was with a very heavy heart that she 
 reached the model lodgings, and knocked at the door that 
 had now become so familiar to her. 
 
 Swanhild flew to greet her with her usual warmth. It 
 was easy to see that the child knew nothing of the trouble 
 hanging over the house. " What lovely flowers ! How 
 good of you ! " she cried. 
 
 But Sigrid could not speak ; she only kissed her, then 
 turned to Swanhild and the flowers once more. 
 
 " They are beautiful ! " she said. " Don't you think we 
 might spare some for Mrs. Hallifield ? Run and take her 
 some, dear." 
 
 When the child ran off she drew Cecil into their bed- 
 room. The two girls sat down together on the bed, but 
 Sigrid, usually the one to do most of the talking, was silent 
 and dejected. Cecil saw at once that she must take the 
 initiative. 
 
3i8 A HARDY NORSEMAN 1 . 
 
 " I have been longing to come and see you/' she said. 
 " But yesterday was so filled up. Father and mother are 
 so sorry for all this trouble, and are very much vexed that 
 Mr. Horner has behaved badly about it." 
 
 " They are very kind," said Sigrid, wearily. " Of course 
 most employers would have prosecuted Frithiof, or, at any 
 rate, discharged him." 
 
 "But, Sigrid, what can be the explanation of it? Oh, 
 surely we oan manage to find out somehow ! Who can 
 have put the note in his pocket ? " 
 
 "What!" cried Sigrid. ^ "Do not you, too, hold Mr. 
 Boniface's opinion, and think that he himself did it unin- 
 tentionally ? " 
 
 " I ! " cried Cecil, passionately. " Never ! never I I 
 am quite sure he had nothing whatever to do wJfti it." 
 
 Sigrid flung her arms round her. 
 
 " Oh, how I love you for saying that ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 It was the first real comfort that had come to her since 
 their trouble, and, although before Frithiof she was brave 
 and cheerful, in his absence she became terribly anxious 
 and depressed. But with the comfort there came a fresh 
 care, for something at that moment revealed to her Cecil's 
 secret. Perhaps it was the burning cheek that was pressed 
 to hers, or perhaps a sort of thrill in her companion's voice 
 as she spoke those vehement words, and declared her 
 perfect faith in Frithiof. 
 
 The thought filled her with hot indignation against 
 Blanche. " Has she not only spoiled Frithiof 's life but 
 Cecil's too ? " she said to herself. And in despair she 
 looked on into the future, and back into the sad past. 
 " If it had not been for Blanche he might have loved her 
 I think he would have loved her. And, oh, how happy 
 she woul'd have made him ! how different his whole life 
 would have been ! But now, with disgrace, and debt, and 
 broken health, all that is impossible for him. Blanche has 
 robbed him, too, of the power of loving ; she has cheated 
 him out of his heart. Her hateful flirting has ruined the 
 happiness of two people, probably of many more, for 
 Frithiof was not the only man whom she deceived. Oh, 
 why does God give women the power to bring such misery 
 into the world ? " 
 
 She was recalled from her angry thoughts by Cecil's 
 voice ; it was sweet and gentle again now, and no longer 
 vehement. 
 
A HARD\ NORSEMAN'. 319 
 
 " Do you know, Sigrid," she said, " I have great hopes 
 in Roy. He will be home to-night, and he will come to it 
 all like an outsider, and I think, perhaps, he will throw 
 some light on the mystery. I shall meet him at Charing 
 Cross, and, as we drive home, will tell him just what 
 happened." 
 
 " Is it to-night he comes home ? " said Sigrid, with a 
 depth of relief in her tone. " Oh, how glad I am ! But 
 there is Swanhild back again. You won't say anything 
 before her, for we have not mentioned it to her ; there 
 seemed no reason why she -should be made unhappy, and 
 Frithiof likes to feel that one person is unharmed by his 
 trouble." 
 
 " Yes, one can understand that," said Cecil. " And 
 Swanhild is such a child, one would like to shelter her 
 from all unhappiness. Are you sure that you don't mind 
 my staying ? Would you not rather be alone to-night ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, no ! " said Sigrid. " Do stay to supper. 
 It will show Frithiof that you do not think any the worse 
 of him for this it will please him so much ! " 
 
 They went back to the sitting-room and began to 
 prepare the evening meal ; and when, presently, Frithiof 
 returned from his work, the first thing he caught sight of 
 on entering the room was Cecil's sweet open-looking face. 
 She was standing by the table arranging flowers, but came 
 forward quickly to greet him. Her colour was a little 
 deeper that usual, her hand-clasp a little closer, but other- 
 wise she behaved exactly as if nothing unusual had hap- 
 pened. 
 
 " I have most unceremoniously asked myself to supper," 
 she said, " for I have to meet Roy at half-past eight. ' 
 
 " It is very good of you to come." said Frithiof, grate- 
 fully. 
 
 His jiterview with Carlo Donati had done much for 
 him, and had helped him through a very trying day at the 
 shop, but though he had made a good start and had- begun 
 his new life bravely, and borne many disagreeables 
 patiently, yet he was now miserably tired and depressed, 
 just in the mood which craves most for human sympathy. 
 
 " Lance sent you this," she said, handing him the 
 passion-flower arid making him smile by repeating the 
 child's words. 
 
 He seemed touched and pleased ; and the conversation 
 
320 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 at supper-time turned a good deal on the children. He 
 asked anxioucly after Mr. Boniface, and then they 
 discussed the concert of the previous night, and he spoke 
 a little of Donati's kindness to him. Then, while Sigrid and 
 Swanhild were busy in the kitchen, she told him what she 
 knew of Donati's previous life, and how it was that he had 
 gained this extraordinary power of sympathy and insight. 
 
 " I never met any one like him," said Frithiof. " He 
 is a hero and a saint, if ever there was one, yet without 
 one touch of the asceticism which annoys one in most good 
 people. That the idol of the operatic stage should be such 
 a man as that seems to me wonderful." 
 
 " You mean because the life is a trying one ? " 
 
 " Yes ; because such very great popularity might be 
 supposed to make a man conceited, and such an out-of-the- 
 way voice might make him selfish and heedless of others, 
 and to be so much run after might make him consider 
 himself above ordinary mortals, instead of being ready, as 
 he evidently is, to be the friend of any one who is in need." 
 
 " I am so glad you like him and that you saw so much 
 of him," said Cecil. " I wonder if you would just see me 
 into a cab now, for I ought to be going." 
 
 He was pleased that she had asked him to do this ; and 
 when she had said good-by to Sigrid and Swanhild, and 
 was once more alone with him, walking through the big 
 court-yard, he could not resist alluding to it. 
 
 " It is good of you," he said, " to treat me as though I 
 were under no cloud. You have cheered me wonder- 
 fully." 
 
 " Oh," she said " it is not good of me you must not 
 think that I believe you under a cloud at all. Nothing 
 would ever make me believe that you had anything what- 
 ever to do with that five-pound note. It is a mystery that 
 will some day be cleared up." 
 
 " That is what Signer Donati said. He, too, believed in 
 me in spite of appearances being against me. And Sigrid 
 says the same. With three people on my side I can wait 
 more patiently." 
 
 Cecil had spoken very quietly, and quite without the 
 passionate vehemence which had betrayed her secret to 
 Sigrid, for now she was on her guard ; but her tone 
 conveyed to Frithiof just the trust and friendliness which 
 she wished it to convey ; and he went home again with a 
 fresh stock of hope and courage in his heart. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 321 
 
 Meanwhile Cecil paced gravely up and down the arrival 
 platform at Charing Cross. She, too, had been cheered 
 by their interview, but, nevertheless, the baffling mystery 
 haunted her continually, and in vain she racked her mind 
 for any solution of the affair. Perhaps the anxiety had 
 already left its traces on her face, for Roy at once noticed 
 a change in her. 
 
 " Why, Cecil, what has come over you ? You are not 
 looking well," he said, as they got into a hansom and set 
 off on their long drive. 
 
 " Father has not been well," she said in explanation. 
 " And I think we have all been rather upset by something 
 that happened on Monday afternoon in the shop." 
 
 Then she told him exactly what had passed, and waited 
 hopefully for his comments on the story. He knitted his 
 brows in perplexity 
 
 " I wish I had been at home," he said. " If only James 
 Horner had not gone ferreting into it all this would never 
 have happened. Frithiof would have discovered his 
 mistake, and all would have been well." 
 
 " But you don't imagine that Frithiof put the note in his 
 pocket ? " said Cecil, her heart sinking down in deep 
 disappointment. 
 
 " Why, who else could have put it there ? Of course he 
 must have done it in absence of mind. Probably the 
 excitement and strain of that unlucky afternoon at Britling 
 Gap affected his brain in some way." 
 
 " I cannot think that," she said in a low voice. "And 
 even if it were so, that is the last sort of thing he would 
 do." 
 
 " But that is just the way when people's brains are 
 affected, they do the most unnatural things ; it is a known 
 fact that young innocent girls will often in delirium use 
 the most horrible language such as in real life they can 
 not possibly have heard. Your honest man is quite likely 
 under the circumstances to become a thief. Is not this 
 the view that my father takes ? " 
 
 "Yes," said Cecil. " But somehow I thought I 
 hoped that you would have trusted him. 
 
 " It doesn't in the least affect my opinion of his charac- 
 ter. He was simply not himself when he did it. But one 
 can't doubt such evidence as that. The thing was missed 
 
 11 
 
322 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 from the till and found pinned into his pocket, how 
 any reasonable being doubt that he himself put it there ? '* 
 
 " It may be unreasonable to refuse to believe I can- 
 not help that," said Cecil. 
 
 " But how can it possibly be explained on any other 
 supposition ? " he urged, a little impatiently. 
 
 " I don't know," said Cecil ; " at present it is a mystery. 
 But I am as sure that he did not put it there as that 1 did 
 not put. it there." 
 
 " Women believe what they wish to believe, and utterly 
 disregard logic," said Roy. 
 
 " It is not only women who believe in him. Carlo 
 Donati has gone most carefully into every detail, and he 
 believes in him." 
 
 " Then I wish he would give me his receipt," said Roy, 
 with a sigh. " I am but a matter-of-fact, prosaic man of 
 business, and cannot make myself believe that black is 
 white, however much I wish it. Have you seen Miss 
 Falck ? Is she much troubled about it. ? " 
 
 " Yes, she is so afraid that he will worry himself ill ; but 
 of course, she, too, believes in him. I think she suspects 
 the other man in the shop Darnell ; but I don't see how 
 he can have anything to do with it, I must own." 
 
 There was a silence. Cecil looked sadly at the passers- 
 by, lovers strolling along happily in the cool of the evening, 
 workers just set free from the long day's toil, children 
 reveling in the fresh sweet air. How very brief was the 
 happiness and rest as compared to the hard, wearing 
 drudgery of most of those lives I Love perhaps bright- 
 ened a few minutes of each day, but in the outside world 
 there was no love, no justice, nothing but a hard grinding 
 competition, while Sorrow and Sin, Sickness and Death 
 hovered round, ever ready to pounce upon their victims. 
 It was unlike her to look so entirely on the dark side of 
 things, but Frithiof s persistent ill-luck had depressed her, 
 and she was disappointed by Roy's words. Perhaps it 
 was unreasonable of her to expect him to share her view 
 of the affair, but somehow she had expected it, and now 
 there stole into her heart a dreary sense that everything 
 was against the man she loved. In her sheltered hapj y 
 home, where a bitter word was never heard, where the 
 family love glowed so brightly that all the outside world 
 was seen through its cheering rays, sad thoughts of the 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 323 
 
 strength of evil seldom came, there was ever present so 
 strong a witness for the infinitely greater power of love. 
 But driving now along these rather melancholy roads, 
 weighed down by Frithiof s trouble, a sort of hopelessness 
 seized her, the thought of the miles and miles of houses all 
 round, each one representing several troubled, struggling 
 lives, made her miserable. Personal trouble helps us after- 
 ward to face the sorrows of humanity, and shows us how 
 we may all in our infinitesimal way help to brighten other 
 lives take something from the world's great load of pain 
 and evil. But at first there must be times of deadly 
 depression, and in these it is perhaps impossible not to 
 yield a little for the moment to the despairing thought 
 that evil is rampant and all-powerful. Poverty, and sin, 
 and temptation are so easily visible everywhere, and to be 
 ever conscious of the great unseen world encompassing us, 
 and of Him who makes both seen and unseen to work 
 together for good, is not easy. 
 
 Cecil Boniface, like every one else in this world, had, in 
 spite of her Meal home, in spite of all the comforts that 
 love and money could give her, to " dree her weird." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 IF Roy had seemed unsympathetic as they drove home it 
 was not because he did not feel keenly. He was in- 
 deed afraid to show how keenly he felt, and he would 
 have given almost anything to have been able honestly to 
 say that he, too, believed in some unexplained mystery 
 which should entirely free his friend from reproach. But 
 he could not honestly believe in such a thing it would 
 have been as easy to him to believe in the existence of 
 fairies and hobgoblins. Since no such thing as magic 
 existed, and since Darnell had never been an assistant of 
 Maskelyne and Cooke, he could not believe that he had 
 anything to do with the five-pound note. Assuredly no 
 one but Frithiof could have taken it out of the till and 
 carefully pinned it to the lining of his waistcoat pocket. 
 The more he thought over the details of the story, the 
 more irrational seemed his sister's blind faith. And yet 
 his longing io ^hare in her views chafed and irritated him 
 as he realised the impossibility. 
 
324 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 His mind was far too much engrossed to notice Cecil 
 much, and that, perhaps, was a good thing, for just then 
 in her great dejection any ordinary acute observer could 
 not have failed to read her story. But Roy, full of pas- 
 sionate love for Sigrid, and of hot indignation with James 
 Homer for having been the instrument of bringing about 
 all this trouble, was little likely to observe other people. 
 
 Why had he ever gone to Paris ? he wondered angrily, 
 when his father or James Horner could have seen to the 
 business there quite as well. He had gone partly because 
 he liked the change, and partly because he was thankful 
 for anything that would fill up the wretched time 
 while he waited for Sigrid's definite reply to his proposal. 
 But now he blamed himself for his restlessness, and was 
 made miserable by the perception that had he chosen 
 differently all would now have been well. 
 
 He slept little that night, and went up to business the 
 next morning in anything but a pleasant frame of mind, 
 for he could hardly resist his longing to go straight to 
 Sigrid, and see how things were with her. When he 
 entered the shop Darnell was in his usual place at the 
 left-hand counter, but Frithiof was arranging some songs 
 on a stand in the center, and Roy was at once struck by a 
 change that had come over him, but he could not define 
 it, but he felt that it was not in this way that he had ex- 
 pected to find the Norwegian after a trouble which must 
 have been so specially galling to his pride. " How are 
 you ? " he said, grasping his hand ; but it was impossible 
 before others to say what was really in his heart, and it 
 was not till an hour or two later that they had any oppor- 
 tunity of really speaking together. Then it chanced that 
 Frithiof came into his room with a message. 
 
 " There is a Mr. Carruthers waiting to speak to you," 
 he said, handing him a card ; " he has two manuscript 
 songs which he wishes to submit to you." 
 
 " Tell him I am engaged," said Roy. " And that as for 
 songs, we have enough to last us for the next two years." 
 
 "They are rather good; he has shown them to me. 
 You might just glance through them," suggested Frithiof. 
 
 " I shall write a book some day on the sorrows of a 
 music-publisher ! " said Roy. " How many thousands of 
 composers do you think there can be in this overcrowded 
 country? No, I'll not see the man; I'm in too bad a 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 325 
 
 temper ; but you can just bring in the songs, and I will 
 look at them and talk to you at the same time." 
 
 Frithiof returned in a minute carrying the neat manu- 
 scripts which meant so much to the composer and so little, 
 alas ! to the publisher. Roy glanced through the first. 
 
 " The usual style of thing," he said, " Moon, man, and 
 maid, rill and hill, quarrel, kisses all based on ' So the 
 Story goes.' I don't think this is worth sending to the 
 reader. What's the other ? Words by Swinburne : ' If 
 Love were what the Rose is.' Yes, you are right ; this 
 one is original ; I rather like that refrain. We will send 
 it to Martmo and see what he thinks of it. Tell Mr. 
 Carruthers that he shall hear about it in a month or two. 
 And take him back this moonlight affair. Don't go yet ; 
 he can wait on tenter-hooks a little longer. Of course they 
 have told me at home about all this fuss on Monday, and 
 I want you to promise me one thing." 
 
 "What is that?" said Frithiof. 
 
 " That you won't worry about this miserable five-pound 
 note. That if you ever think of it again, you will remem- 
 ber that my father and I both regard the accident as if it 
 had never happened." 
 
 " Then you too take his view of the affair? " said Frith- 
 iof. 
 
 "Yes, it seems to me the only reasonable one; but 
 don't let us talk of a thing that is blotted out and done 
 away. It makes no difference whatever to me, and you 
 must promise that you won't let it come between us." 
 
 " You are very good," said Frithiof sadly ; and, remem- 
 bering the hopelessness of arguing with one who took this 
 view of his trouble, he said no more, but went back to the 
 poor composer, whose face lengthened when he saw that 
 his hands were not empty, but brightened into radiant hope 
 as Frithiof explained that one song would really have the 
 rare privilege of being actually looked at. Being behind 
 the scenes, he happened to know that the vast majority of 
 songs sent to the firm remained for a few weeks in the 
 house, and were then wrapped up again and returned with- 
 out even being glanced at. His intervention had, at any 
 rate, saved Mr. Carruthers from that hard fate. 
 
 "And yet, poor fellow," he reflected, " even if he does 
 get his song published, it is a hundred to one that it will fall 
 flat and never do him any good at all ; where one succeeds 
 
3 2o A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 a thousand fail ; that seems the law of the world, and I am 
 one of the thousand. I wonder what is the use of it all ! " 
 Some lines' that Doaati had quoted to him returned to 
 his mind : 
 
 Glorious it is to wear the crown 
 
 Of a deserved and pure success ; 
 He that knows how to fail has won 
 A crown whose lustre is not less." 
 
 His reflections were interrupted by the entrance of two 
 customers, evidently a very recently married couple, who 
 had come to choose a piano. Once again he had to sum- 
 mon Roy, who stood patiently discoursing on the various 
 merits of different makers until at last the purchase had 
 been made. Then, unable any longer to resist the feverish 
 impatience which had been consuming him for so long, he 
 snatched up his hat, left word with Frithiof that he should 
 be absent for an hour, and getting into a hansom drove 
 straight to the model lodgings. 
 
 He felt a curious sense of incongruity as he walked 
 across the court-yard ; this great business-like place was, 
 as Sigrid had once said, very much like a hive. An air of 
 industry and orderliness pervaded it, and Roy, in his eager 
 impatience, felt as if he had no right there at all. This 
 feeling cast a sort of chill over his happiness as he knocked 
 at the familiar door. A voice within bade him enter, and, 
 emerging from behind the Japanese screen, he found Sigrid 
 hard at work ironing. She wore a large brown holland 
 apron and bib over her black dress, her sleeves were 
 turned back, revealing her round, white arms up to the 
 elbow, and the table was strewed with collars and cuffs. 
 
 " I thought it was Mrs. Hallifield come to scrub the 
 kitchen," she exclaimed, "or I should not have cried 
 * Come in ! ' so unceremoniously. Cecil told us you were 
 expected last night." 
 
 if Will you forgive me for coming at this hour ? " he 
 began eagerly. " I knew it was the only time I was sure 
 to find you at home, and I couldn't rest till I had seen 
 you." 
 
 " It was very good of you to come," she said, colouring 
 a little ; " you won't mind if I just finish my work while 
 we talk ? " 
 
 The ironing might, in truth, have waited very well ; but 
 somehow it relieved her embarrassment to sprinkle and 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 327 
 
 arrange and iron the "fine things " which, from moti/es of 
 economy, she washed herself. 
 
 " I have seen Frithiof," he said rather nervously. " He 
 is looking better than I had expected after such an annoy- 
 ance." 
 
 " You have spoken to him about it? " 
 
 " Only for a minute or two. After all, what is there to 
 say but that the whole affair must be forgotten, and never 
 again mentioned by a soul. I want so to make you under- 
 stand that it is to us nothing at all, that it is ridiculous to 
 suppose that it can affect our thoughts of him. It was the 
 sort of thing that might, happen to any one after such an 
 illness." 
 
 Sigrid looked up at him. There was the same depth 
 of disappointment in her expression as there had been in 
 Cecil's. 
 
 " You take that view of it," she said slowly. " Somehow 
 I had hoped you would have been able to find the true 
 explanation." 
 
 " If there were any other, you surely know that I would 
 seek for it with all my might," said Roy. " But I do not 
 see how any other explanation can possibly exist." 
 
 She sighed. 
 
 " You are disappointed," he said. " You thought I 
 should have taken the view that Carlo Donati takes. I 
 only wish I could. But, you see, my nature is more pro- 
 saic. I can't make myself believe a thing .when all the 
 evidences are against it." 
 
 " I am not blaming you," said Sigrid. " It is quite nat- 
 ural, and of course most employers would have taken a far 
 harder view of the matter, and turned Frithiof off at a 
 moment's notice. You and Mr. Boniface have been very 
 kind." 
 
 " Don't speak like that," he exclaimed. " How can you 
 speak of kindness between us ? You know that Frithiof 
 is like a brother to me." 
 
 " No," she said ; " you are mistaken. I know that you 
 are fond of him ; but, if he were like a brother to you, then 
 you would understand him ; you would trust him through 
 everything as I do." 
 
 Perhaps she was unreasonable. But then she was very 
 unhappy and very much agitated; and women are not 
 always reasonable, or men either, for that matter. 
 
3 28 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " Sigrid," he said passionately, "you are not going to let 
 this come between us ? You know that I love you with all 
 my heart, you know that I would do anything in the world 
 for you, but even for love of you I cannot make myself 
 believe that black is white." 
 
 " I am not reproaching you because you do not think as 
 we think," she said quickly. " But in one way this must 
 come between us." 
 
 " Hush ! " he said imploringly; "wait a little longer. I 
 will not to-day ask you for your answer ; I will wait as 
 long as you please ; but don't speak now while your mind 
 is full of this trouble." 
 
 " If I do not speak now when do you think I shall be 
 more at leisure? " she asked coldly. "Oh, it seems alight 
 thing to you, and you are kind, and pass it over, and hush 
 it up, but you don't realise how bitter it is to a Norwegian 
 to have such a shadow cast on his honesty. Do you think 
 that even if you forget it we can forget? Do you think 
 that the other men in the shop hold your view ? Do you 
 think that Mr. Homer agrees with you ? " 
 
 " Perhaps not. What do I care for them ? " said Roy. 
 
 " No ; that is just it. To you it is a matter of indiffer- 
 ence, but to Frithiof it is just a daily torture. And you 
 would have me think of happiness while he is miserable ! 
 You would have me go and leave him when at any moment 
 he may break down again ! " 
 
 " I would never ask you to leave him," said Roy. " Our 
 marriage would not at all involve that. It would be a 
 proof to him of how little this wretched business affects 
 my opinion of him ; it would prove to all the world that 
 we don't regard it as anything but the merest accident." 
 
 " Do you think the world would be convinced ? " said 
 Sigrid, very bitterly. " I will tell you what it would say. 
 It would say that I had so entangled you that you could 
 not free yourself, and that, in spite of Frithiof's disgrace, 
 you were obliged to marry me. And that shall never be 
 said." 
 
 " For God's sake don't let the miserable gossip, the 
 worthless opinion of outsiders, make our lives miserable. 
 What do we care for the world ? It is nothing to us. Let 
 them say what they will ; so long as they only say lies, what 
 difference does it make to us ? " 
 
 " You don't know what you are talking about," she said, 
 and for the first time the tears rushed to her eyes. " Your 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 329 
 
 life has been all sheltered and happy. But out there in 
 Bergen I have had to bear coldness and contempt, and the 
 knowledge that even death did not shield my father from 
 the poisonous tongues of the slanderers. Lies can't make 
 the things they say true, but do you think that lies have no 
 power to harm you? no power to torture you? Oh! 
 before you say that you should just try." 
 
 Her words pierced his heart ; the more he realised the 
 difficulties of her life the more intolerable grew the longing 
 to help her, to shield her, to defy the opinion of outsiders 
 for her sake. 
 
 " But don't you see," he urged, " that it is only a form of 
 pride which you are giving way to ? It is only that which 
 is keeping us apart." 
 
 " And what if it is," she replied, her eyes flashing. " A 
 woman has a right to be proud in such matters. Besides, 
 it is not only pride. It is that I can't think of happiness 
 while Frithiof is miserable. My first duty is to him ; and 
 how could I flaunt my happiness in his face ? how could I 
 now bring back to him the remembrance of all his past 
 troubles ? " 
 
 " At least wait," pleaded Roy once more ; " at least let 
 me once more ask your final answer a few months hence." 
 
 " I will wait until Frithiof's name is cleared," she said 
 passionately. " You may ask me again then, not before." 
 
 Then seeing the despair in his face her strength all at 
 once gave way, she turned aside trying to hide her tears. 
 He stood up and came toward her, her grief gave him 
 fresh hope and courage. 
 
 " Sigrid," he said, " I will not urge you any more. It 
 shall be as you wish. Other men have had to wait. I sup- 
 pose I, too, can bear it. I only ask one thing, tell me this 
 once that you love me." 
 
 He saw the lovely colour flood her cheek, she turned 
 toward him silently but with all her soul in her eyes. For 
 a moment he held her closely, and just then it was impos- 
 sible that he could realise the hopelessness of the case. 
 Strong with the rapture of the confession she had made, it 
 was not then, nor indeed for many hours after, that cold 
 despair gripped his heart once more. She loved him he 
 loved her with the whole strength of his being. Was it 
 likely that a miserable five-pound note could forever divide 
 them? Poor Roy ! as Sigrid had said, he had lived such 
 a sheltered life. He knew so little of the world. 
 
330 A HARD Y NORSEMAN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 IT is of course a truism that we never fully appreciate what 
 we have, until some trouble or some other loss shows us 
 all that has grown familiar in a fresh light. Our life-long 
 friends are only perhaps valued at their true worth when 
 some friendship of recent growth has proved fleeting and 
 fall of disappointment. And though many may love their 
 homes, yet a home can only be properly appreciated by 
 one who has had to bear from the outside world contempt 
 and misunderstanding and harsh judgment. Fond as he 
 had been of his home before, Frithiof had never until now 
 quite realised what it meant to him. But as each evening 
 he returned from work, and from the severe trial of an 
 atmosphere of suspicion and dislike, he felt much as the 
 sailor feels when, after tossing about all day in stormy seas, 
 he anchors at night in some harbour of refuge. Sigrid knew 
 that he felt this, and she was determined that he should 
 not even guess at her trouble. Luckily she had plenty to 
 do, so that it was impossible for her to sit and look her 
 sorrow in the face, or brood over it in idleness. It was 
 with her certainly as she went about her household work, 
 with her as she and Swanhild walked through the hot and 
 crowded streets, and with her as she played at Madame 
 Lechertier's academy. But there was something in the 
 work that prevented the trouble from really preying on 
 her mind, she was sad indeed yet not in despair. 
 
 Nevertheless Madame Lechertier's quick eyes noted at 
 once the change in her favourite. 
 
 " You are not well, chtrie" she said, " your face looks 
 worn. Why, my dear, I can actually see lines in your 
 forehead. At your age that is inexcusable." 
 
 Sigrid laughed. 
 
 " I have a bad habit of wrinkling it up when I am wor- 
 ried about anything," she said. " To-day, perhaps, I am 
 a little tired. It is so hot and sultry, and, besides I am 
 anxious about Frithiof, it is a trying time for him." 
 
 " Yes, this heat is trying to the strongest," said Madame 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 331 
 
 Lechertier, fanning herself. " Swanhild, my angel, there 
 are some new bonbons in that box, help yourself." 
 
 This afternoon it happened to be a children's class, and 
 Madame Lechertier invariably regaled them in the inter- 
 vals of rest with the most delicious French sweetmeats. 
 It was a pretty sight to see the groups of little ones, and 
 Swanhild, in her dainty Norwegian costume, handing the 
 bonbons to each in turn. Sigrid always liked to watch 
 this part of the performance, and perhaps the most com- 
 forting thought to her just then was, that as far as Swanhild 
 was concerned, the new life, in spite of its restrictions and 
 economies, seemed to answer so well. The child was 
 never happier than when hard at work at the academy 
 even on this hot summer day she never complained ; and, 
 in truth, the afternoons just brought the right amount of 
 variety into what would otherwise have been a very 
 monotonous life. 
 
 " Sigrid," said the little girl, as they walked home 
 together, " is it true what you said to Madame Lechertier 
 about Frithiof feeling the heat? Is it really that which 
 has made him so grave the last few days ? " 
 
 "It is partly that," replied Sigrid. " But he has a good 
 deal to trouble him that you are too young to understand, 
 things that will not bear talking about. You must try to 
 make it bright and cheerful at home." 
 
 Swanhild sighed. It was not so easy to be bright and 
 cheerful all by one's self, and of late Frithiof and Sigrid 
 had been as she expressed it in the quaint Norse idiom 
 silent as lighted candles. People talk a great deal about 
 the happy freedom from care which children can enjoy, 
 but, as a matter of fact, many a child feels the exact state 
 of the home atmosphere, and puzzles its head over the un- 
 known troubles which are grieving the elders, often magni- 
 fying trifles into most alarming and menacing sources of 
 danger. But Frithiof never guessed either little Swanhild's 
 perplexities or Sigrid's trouble ; when he returned all 
 seemed to him natural and homelike ; and perhaps it was 
 as much with the desire to be still with them, as from any 
 recollection of Donati's words, that on the following Sun- 
 day he set off with them to the service held during the 
 summer evenings at Westminster Abbey. 
 
 What impression the beautiful service made on him 
 Sigrid could not tell, but the sermon was, unluckily, the 
 very last he ought to have heard. The learned Oxford 
 
332 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 professor who preached to the great throng of people that 
 night could have understood very little how his words 
 would affect many of his hearers ; he preached as a pes- 
 simist, he drew a miserable picture of the iniquity and 
 injustice of the world, all things were going wrong, the 
 times were out of joint ; but he suggested no remedy, he 
 did not even indicate that there was another side to the 
 picture. The congregation dispersed. In profound de- 
 pression, Frithiof walked down the nave, and passed out 
 into the cool evening air. Miserable as life had seemed to 
 him before, it now seemed doubly miserable ; it was all a 
 great wretched problem to which there was no solution, a 
 purposeless whirl of buying and selling, a selfish struggle 
 for existence. They walked past the Aquarium ; the dingy 
 side streets looked unlovely enough on that summer night, 
 and the dreary words he had heard haunted him persist- 
 ently, harmonising only too well with the cui bono that at 
 all times was apt to suggest itself to his mind. A wretched, 
 clouded life in a miserable world, misfortunes which he had 
 never deserved eternally dogging his steps, his own case 
 merely one of a million similar or worse cases. Where 
 was the use of it all ? 
 
 A voice close beside him made him start. They were 
 passing a corner where two streets crossed each other, and 
 the words that fell upon his ear, spoken with a strange 
 fervour yet with deep reverence, were just these, 
 
 " Jesus, blessed Jesus ! " 
 
 He glanced sharply round and saw a little crowd of 
 people gathered together ; the words had been read from 
 a hymn-book by a man whose whole heart had been thrown 
 into what he read. They broke into Frithiof s reverie very 
 strangely. Then, immediately the people began to sing 
 the well known hymn, " The Great Physician now is near," 
 and the familiar tune, which had long ago penetrated to 
 Norway, brought to Frithiof s mind a host of old memories. 
 Was it after all true that the problem had been solved? 
 Was it true that in spite of suffering and sin and misery the 
 pledge of ultimate victory had already been given ? Was 
 it true that he whose uncongenial work seemed -chiefly to 
 consist of passive endurance had yet a share in helping to 
 bring about the final triumph of good? 
 
 From the words read by the street preacher his mind 
 involuntarily turned to the words spoken to him a few days 
 before by a stage-singer. Donati had spoken of living the 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN'. 333 
 
 life of the crucified. He had said very little, but what he 
 said had the marvelous power of all essentially true things. 
 He had spoken not as a conventional utterer of platitudes, 
 but as one man, who has fought and agonised and overcome, 
 may speak to another man who, bewildered by the confu- 
 sion of the battle-field, begins to doubt his own cause. 
 And far more than anything actually said there came to 
 him the thought of Donati's own life, what he had himself 
 observed of it, and what he had heard of his story from 
 Cecil. A wonderfully great admission was made lately by a 
 celebrated agnostic writer when he said that, " The true 
 Christian saint, though a rare phenomenon, is one of the 
 most wonderful to be witnessed in the moral world." Nor 
 was the admission much qualified by the closing remark, 
 " So lofty, so pure, so attractive that he ravishes men's 
 souls into oblivion of the patent and general fact that he is 
 an exception among thousands of millions of professing 
 Christians." 
 
 Frithiof s soul was not in the least ravished into oblivion 
 of this fact, he was as ready as before, perhaps more ready, 
 to admit the general selfishness of mankind, certainly he 
 was more than ever conscious of his own shortcomings, and 
 daily found pride and selfishness and ungraciousness in his 
 own life and character. But his love for Donati, his great 
 admiration for him, had changed his whole view of the 
 possibilities of human life. The Italian had doubtless been 
 specially fortunate in his parentage, but his life had been 
 one of unusual temptation, his extremely rapid change 
 from great misery to the height of popularity and success 
 had alone been a very severe trial, though perhaps it was 
 what Frithiof had heard of his three years in the travelling 
 opera company that appealed to him most. Donati was 
 certainly saint and hero in one ; but it was not only men 
 of natural nobility who were called to live this life of the 
 crucified. All men were called to it. Deep down in his 
 heart he knew that even for him it was no impossibility. 
 And something of Donati's incredulous scorn, as he flung 
 back the word " impossible " in his face, returned to him 
 now, and nerved him to a fresh attack on the uncongenial 
 life and the faulty character with which he had to work. 
 The week passed by pretty well, and the following Sunday 
 found him tired indeed, but less down-hearted, and better 
 able to keep at arm's length his old foe depression. For 
 that foe, though chiefly due to. physical causes, can, as all 
 
334 A HARDY NORSEMAN". 
 
 doctors will bear witness, be to a great extent held in check 
 by spiritual energy. 
 
 The morning was so bright that Sigrid persuaded him to 
 take a walk, and fully intending to return in an hour's time 
 to his translating, he paced along the embankment. But 
 either the fine day. or the mere pleasure of exercise, or 
 some sort of curiosity to see a part of London of which he 
 had heard a great deal, lured him on. He crossed Black- 
 friars Bridge and walked farther and farther, following the 
 course of the river eastward into a region, dreary indeed, 
 yet at times picturesque, with the river gleaming in the 
 sunshine, and on the farther bank the Tower solid and 
 grim, as befitted the guardian of so many secrets of the 
 past. Even here there was a quiet Sunday feeling, while 
 something familiar in the sight of the water and the ship- 
 ping carried him back in imagination to Norway, and 
 there came over him an intense longing for his own country. 
 It was a feeling that often took possession of him, nor 
 could he any more account for its sudden seizures than the 
 Swiss can account for that sick longing for his native 
 mountains, to which he is often liable. 
 
 " It's no use," he thought to himself. " It will take me 
 the best part of my life to pay off the debts, and till they 
 are paid I can't go." 
 
 He turned his eyes from the river, as though by doing 
 so he could drag his thoughts from Norway, when to his 
 astonishment he all at once caught sight of his own national 
 flag the well-known blue and white cross on the red ground. 
 His breath came fast, he walked on quickly to get a nearer 
 view of the building from which the flag floated. Hurriedly 
 pushing open the door, he entered the place, and found 
 himself in a church, which presented the most curious 
 contrast to churches in general, for it was almost full of 
 men, and the seven or eight women who were there made 
 little impression, their voices being drowned in the hearty 
 singing of the great bulk of the congregation. 
 
 They began to sing just as he entered ; the tune was one 
 which he had known all his life, and a host of memories 
 came back to him as he heard once more the slow and not 
 too melodious singing, rendered striking, however, because 
 of the fervour of the honest Norseman. Tears, which all his 
 troubles had not called forth, started now to his eyes as he 
 listened to the words which carried him right out of the 
 foreign land back to his childhood at Bergen. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 335 
 
 
 Sorg o kja-re fa - der du, Jeg wil ik - ke 
 
 T^r 
 
 
 
 =t 
 
 
 sor - ge, Ik - ke med be kym-ret hu, 
 
 II III 
 
 
 "tT 
 
 I i 
 
 r T-n* 
 
 i ' ' i 
 
 Om min frem . tid spot * ge, Sorg du for mig 
 
 al min tid, Sorg for mig og mi - ne Gud al-meegtig 
 
336 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 naa-dig, blid, Sorg for al - le di - ne ! 
 
 Translation. 
 
 " Care, oh, dear Father, Thou, 
 I will not care , 
 Not with troubled mine 
 About my future ask. 
 Care Thou for me all my life, 
 Care for me and mine ; 
 God ! Almighty, gracious, good. 
 Care for all Thine." 
 
 An onlooker, even a foreigner not understanding the 
 language, could not fail to have been touched by the mere 
 sight of this strange gathering in the heart of London, the 
 unpretentious building, the antique look of the clergyman 
 in his gown and Elizabethan ruff, the ranks of mennumber- 
 ing nearly four hundred with their grave, weather-beaten 
 faces, the greater number of them sailors, but with a sprink- 
 ling of business men living in the neighbourhood, and the 
 young Norseman who had just entered, with his pride 
 broken down by memories of an old home, his love of Nor- 
 way leading him to the realisation that he was also a 
 citizen of another country, and his stern face softened to 
 that expression which is always so full of pathos the 
 expression of intent listening. 
 
 In the Norwegian church the subject of the sermon is 
 arranged throughout the year. On this second Sunday 
 after Trinity it was on the Gospel for the day, the parable 
 of the Master of the House who made a great supper, and 
 of the guests who " all with one consent began to make 
 excuse." There was nothing new in what Frithiof heard ; 
 he had heard it all in the old times, and, entirely satisfied 
 with the happiness of self-pleasing, had been among the rich 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 337 
 
 who had been sent empty away. Now he came, poor and 
 in need, and found that after all it is the hungry who are 
 " filled with good things." 
 
 Very gradually, and helped by many Hashes of light 
 which had from time lo time come to him in his darkest 
 hours, he had during the last two years groped his way 
 from the vague and somewhat flippant belief in a good 
 providence, which he had once announced to Blanche as 
 his creed, and had learned to believe in the All-Father. 
 His meeting with Donati had exercised, and still continued 
 to exercise, an extraordinary influence over him ; but it was 
 not until this Sunday morning, in his own national church, 
 not until in his own language he once more heard the 
 entreaty, " Come, for all things are now ready ! " that he 
 fully realised how he had neglected the life of Sonship. 
 
 With an Infinite Love belonging to him by right, he had 
 allowed himself to be miserable, isolated, and bitter. To 
 many distinct commands he had turned a deaf ear. To 
 One who needed him and asked his love he had replied in 
 the jargon of the nineteenth century, but in the spirit of 
 the old Bible story, that practical matters needed him and 
 that he could not come. 
 
 When the preacher went on to speak of the Lord's Supper, 
 and the distinct command that all should come to it, Fri- 
 thiof began to perceive for the first time that he had 
 regarded this service merely as the incomprehensible 
 communication of a great gift whereas this was in truth 
 only one side of it, and he, also, had to give himself up to 
 One who actually needed him. It was characteristic of his 
 honest nature that when he at last perceived this truth he 
 no longer made excuse but promptly obeyed, not waiting 
 for full understanding, not troubling at all about contro- 
 versial points, but simply doing what he recognised as his 
 duty. 
 
 And when in a rapid survey of the past there came 
 recollections of Blanche and the wrong she had done him, 
 he was almost startled to find how quietly he could think 
 of her, how possible it had become to blot out all the resent- 
 ful memories, all the reproachful thoughts that for so long 
 had haunted him. For the first time he entirely forgave 
 her, and in the very act of forgiving he seemed to regain 
 something of the brightness which she had driven from his 
 life, and to gain something better and truer than had as 
 yet been his. 
 
538 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 All the selfish element had died out of his love for her, 
 there remained only the sadness of thinking of her disgrace, 
 and a longing that, even yet, the good might prevail in her 
 life. Was there no recovery from such a fall ? Was no 
 allowance to be made for her youth and her great temp- 
 tations ? If she really repented ought not her husband 
 once more to receive her, and give her the protection which 
 he alone could give ? 
 
 Kneeling there in the quiet he faced that great problem, 
 and with eyes cleared by love, with his pride altogether 
 laid low, and knowing what it was both to forgive, and to be 
 forgiven, he saw beyond the conventional view taken by 
 the world. There was no escaping the great law of forgive- 
 ness laid down by Christ, " If he repent, forgive him." 
 "Forgive even as also ye are forgiven." And if marriage 
 was taken as a symbol of the union between Christ and 
 the Church, how was it possible to exclude the idea of 
 forgiveness for faithlessness truly repented of? Had he 
 been in Lord Romiaux's place he knew that he must have 
 forgiven her, that if necessary he must have set the whole 
 world at defiance, in order once more to shelter her from 
 the deadly peril to which, alone, she must always be 
 exposed. 
 
 And so it happened that love turned to good even the 
 early passion that had apparently made such havoc of his 
 life, and used it now to raise him out of the thought of his 
 own trouble and undeserved disgrace, used it to lift him out 
 of the selfishness and hardness that for so long had been 
 cramping an otherwise fine nature. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 PERHAPS it was almost a relief both to Frithiof and to Sig- 
 rid that, just at this time, all intercourse with Rowan Tree 
 House should become impossible. Lance and Gwen had 
 sickened with scarlatina, and, of course, all communication 
 was at end for some time to come ; it would have been im- 
 possible that things should have gone on as before after 
 Frithiof's trouble ; he was far too proud to permit such a 
 thing, though the Bonifaces would have done their best 
 utterly to forget what had happened. It would moreover 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 339 
 
 have been difficult for Sigrid to fall back into her former 
 position of familiar friendship after her last interview with 
 Roy. So that, perhaps, the only person who sighed over 
 the separation was Cecil, and she was fortunately kept so 
 busy by her little patients that she had not time to think 
 much of the future. Whenever the thought did cross her 
 mind " How is all this going to end ? " such miserable 
 perplexity seized her that she was glad to turn back to the 
 present, which, however painful, was at any rate endurable. 
 But the strain of that secret anxiety, and the physical 
 fatigue of nursing the two children, began to tell on her, 
 she felt worn and old, and the look that always frightened 
 Mrs. Boniface came back to her face the look that made 
 the poor mother think of the two graves in Norwood 
 cemetery. 
 
 By the middle of August Lance and Gwen had recovered, 
 and were taken down to the seaside, while Rowan Tree 
 House was delivered into the hands of the painters and 
 whitewashes to be thoroughly disinfected. But in spite 
 of lovely weather that summer's holiday proved a very 
 dreary one. Roy was in the depths of depression, and it 
 seemed to Cecil that a great shadow had fallen upon 
 everything. 
 
 " Robin," said Mrs. Boniface, " I want you to take that 
 child to Switzerland for a month ; this place is doing her 
 no good at all. She wants change and mountain-air." 
 
 So the father and mother plotted and planned, and in 
 September Cecil, much against her will, was packed off to 
 Switzerland to see snow-mountains, and waterfalls, when 
 all the time she would far rather had been seeing the prosaic 
 heights of the model lodging-houses, and the dull London 
 streets. Still, being a sensible girl, she did her best with 
 what was put before her, and, though her mind was a good 
 deal with Sigrid and Frithiof in their trouble and anxiety, 
 yet physically she gained great good from the tour, and 
 came back with a colour in her cheeks which satisfied her 
 mother. 
 
 " By-the-by, deane, ' remarked Mrs. Boniface, the day 
 after her return, " your father thought you would like to 
 hear the Elijah to-night at the Albert Hall, and he has 
 left you two tickets." 
 
 " Why, Albani is singing, is she not ? " cried Cecil. " Oh, 
 yes ; I should like to go of all things ! " 
 
340 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " Then I tell you what we will do ; we will send a card 
 and ask Mrs. Horner to go with you, for it's the Church 
 meeting to-night, and father and I do not wane to miss it." 
 
 Cecil could make no objection to this, though her 
 pleasure was rather damped by the prospect of having Mrs. 
 Horner as her companion. There was little love lost 
 between them, for the innate refinement of the one jarred 
 upon the innate vulgarity of the other, and vice versa. 
 
 It was a little after seven o'clock when Cecil drove to 
 the Homers' house and was ushered into the very gorgeous 
 drawing-room. It was empty, and by a sort of instinct 
 which she could never resist, she crossed over to the fire- 
 place and gazed up at the clock, which ever since her 
 childhood had by its ugliness attracted her much as a moth 
 is attracted to a candle. It was a huge clock with a little 
 white face and a great golden rock, upon which golden 
 pigs browsed, with a golden swineherd in attendance. 
 
 " My dear," exclaimed Mrs. Horner, entering with a 
 perturbed face, " did not my letter reach you in time ? I 
 made sure it would. The fact is, I am not feeling quite up 
 to going out to-night. Could you find anyone else, do you 
 think, who would go with you ? " 
 
 Cecil thought for a moment. 
 
 " Sigrid would have liked it, but I know she is too busy 
 just now," she remarked. 
 
 " And, oh, my dear, far better go alone than take Miss 
 Falck ! " said Mrs. Horner. " I shall never forget what I 
 endured when I took her with me to hear Corney Grain ; 
 she laughed aloud, my dear; laughed till she positively 
 cried, and even went so far as to clap her hands. It makes 
 me hot to think of it even." 
 
 Mrs. Horner belonged to that rather numerous section 
 of English people who think that it is a sign of good breed- 
 ing to show no emotion. She had at one time been rather 
 taken by Sigrid's charming manner, but the Norwegian 
 girl was far too simple and unaffected, far too spontaneous, 
 to remain long in Mrs. Horner's good books ; she had no 
 idea of enjoying things in a placid, conventional, semi- 
 bored way, and her clear, ringing laugh was in itself an 
 offence. Mrs. Horner herself never gave more than a 
 polite smile, or at times, when her powers of restraint were 
 too much taxed, a sort of uncomfortable gurgle in her 
 throat, with compressed lips, which gallantly tried to 
 strangle her unseemly mirth. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 341 
 
 " I always enjoy going anywhere with Sigrid," said Cecil, 
 who, gentle as she was, would never consent to be over- 
 ridden by Mrs. Homer. " It seems to me that her wonder- 
 ful faculty for enjoying anything is very much to be envied. 
 However, there is no chance of her going to-night ; I will 
 call and see whether one of the Greenwoods is disengaged." 
 
 So with hasty farewells she went off, laughing to herself 
 as the cab rattled along to think of Mrs. Horner's discom- 
 fort and Sigrid's intense appreciation of Corney Grain. 
 Fate, however, seemed to be against her, her friends, the 
 Greenwoods, were out for the evening, und there was 
 nothing left for it but to drive home again, or else to go in 
 alone and trust to finding Roy afterward. To sacrifice her 
 chance of hearing the Elijah with Albani as soprano 
 merely to satisfy Mrs. Grundy was too much for Cecil. 
 She decided to go alone, and, writing a few words on a 
 card asking Roy to come to her at the end of the oratorio, 
 she sent it to the artistes' room by one of the attendants, 
 and settled herself down to enjoy the music, secretly 
 rather glad to have an empty chair instead of Mrs. Homer 
 beside her. 
 
 All at once the colour rushed to her cheeks, for, loooking 
 up, she saw Frithiof crossing the platform ; she watched 
 him place the score on the conductor's desk, and turn to 
 answer the question of some one in the orchestra, then 
 disappear again within the swing-doors leading to the back 
 regions. She wondered much what he was thinking of as 
 he went through his prosaic duties so rapidly, wondered if 
 his mind was away in Norway all the time whether 
 autumn had brought to him,. as she knew it generally did, 
 the strong craving for his old life of adventure the long- 
 ing to handle a gun once more ; or whether, perhaps, his 
 trouble had overshadowed even that, and whether he was 
 thinking instead of that baffling mystery which had caused 
 them all so much pain. And all through the oratorio she 
 seemed to be hearing everything with his ears ; wondering 
 how the choruses would strike him, or hoping that he was 
 in a good place for hearing Albani's exquisite rendering of 
 " Hear ye Israel." She wondered a little that Roy did not 
 come to her, or, at any rate, send her some message, and 
 at the end of the last chorus began to feel a little anxious 
 and uncomfortable. At last, to her great relief, she saw 
 Frithiof coming toward her. 
 
342 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 "Your brother has never come," he said, in icply to hei 
 greeting. " I suppose this fog must have hindered him, 
 for he told me he should be here ; and I have been expect- 
 ing him every moment." 
 
 "Is the fog so bad as all that?" said Cecil, rather 
 anxiously. 
 
 " It was very bad when I came," said Frithiof. " How- 
 ever, by good luck, I managed to grope my way to Port- 
 land Road, and came down by the Metropolitan. Will 
 you let me see you home? " 
 
 " Thank you, but it is so dreadfully out of your way. I 
 should be very glad if you would, only it is troubling you 
 so much." 
 
 Something in her eager yet half-shy welcome, and in the 
 sense that she was one of the very few who really believed 
 in him, filled Frithiof with a happiness which he could 
 scarcely have explained to himself. 
 
 "You will be giving me a very great pleasure," he said. 
 " I expect there will be a rush on the trains. Shall we try 
 for a cab ? " 
 
 So they walked out together into the dense fog, Cecil 
 with a blissful sense of confidence in the man who piloted 
 her so adroitly through the crowd, and seemed so astonish- 
 ingly cool and indifferent amid the perilous confusion of 
 wheels and hoofs, which always appeared in the quarter 
 where one least expected them. 
 
 At last, after much difficulty, Frithiof secured a hansom, 
 and put her into it. She was secretly relieved that he got 
 in too. 
 
 " I will come back with you if you will allow me," he 
 said ; " for I am not quite sure whether this is not a more 
 dangerous part of the adventure than when we were on 
 foot. I never saw such a fog ! Why, we can't even see 
 the horse, much less where he is going." 
 
 " How thankful I am that you were here \ It would 
 have been dreadful all alone," said Cecil ; and she explained 
 to him how Mrs. Homer had failed her at the last moment. 
 
 He made no comment, but in his heart he was glad that 
 both Mrs. Homer and Roy should have proved faithless, 
 and that the duty of seeing Cecil home had devolved upon 
 him. 
 
 " You have not met my mother since she came back from 
 the sea," said Cecil. " Are you still afraid of infection ? 
 The house has been thoroughly painted and fumigated." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 343 
 
 "Oh, it is not that," said Frithiof; " but while this cloud 
 is still over me, I can't come. You do not realise how it 
 affects everything." 
 
 Perhaps she realised much more than he fancied, but 
 she only said, 
 
 "It does not affect your own home." 
 
 " No, that's true," said Frithiof. " It has made me 
 value that more, and it has made me value your friendship 
 more. But, you see, you are the only one at Rowan Tree 
 House who still believes in me ; and how you manage to 
 do it passes my comprehension when there is nothing to 
 prove me innocent." 
 
 " None of the things which we believe in most can be 
 absolutely proved," said Cecil. " I can't logically justify 
 my belief in you any more than in our old talks I could 
 justify my belief in the unseen world." 
 
 " Do you remember that first Sunday wnen I was staying 
 with you, and you asked me whether I had found a Nor- 
 wegian church ? " 
 
 " Yes, very well. It vexed me so much to have said 
 anything about it ; but you see, I had always lived with 
 people who went to church or chapel as regularly as they 
 took their meals." 
 
 " Well, do you know I was wrong ; there is a Norwegian 
 church down near the Commercial Docks at Rotherhithe." 
 
 And then, lured on by her unspoken sympathy, and 
 favoured by the darkness, he told her of the strong influence 
 which the familiar old chorale had had upon him, and how 
 it had carried him back to the time of his confirmation 
 that time which to all Norwegians is full of deep meaning 
 and intense reality, so that even in the indifferentism of 
 later years, and the fogs of doubt which pain and trouble 
 conjure up, its memory still lingers, ready to be touched 
 into life at the very first opportunity. 
 
 "It is too far for Sigrid and Swanhnd to go very often, 
 but to me it is like a bit of Norway planted down in this 
 great wilderness of houses," he said. " It was strange that 
 I should have happened to come across it so unexpectedly 
 just at the time when I most needed it." 
 
 " But that surely is what always happens," said Cecil. 
 " When we really need a thing we get it." 
 
 " You learned before I did to distinguish between 
 needing and wanting," said Frithiof. " It comes to some 
 
344 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 people easily, I suppose. But I, you see, had to lose 
 everything before understanding to lose even my reputa- 
 tion for common honesty. Even now it seems to me 
 hardly possible that life should go on under such a cloud 
 as that. Yet the days pass somehow, and I believe that it 
 was this trouble which drove me to what I really needed." 
 
 " It is good of you to tell me this," said Cecil. " It 
 seems to put a meaning into this mystery which is always 
 puzzling me and seeming so useless and unjust. By-the- 
 by, Roy tells me that Darnell has left." 
 
 " Yes," said Frithiof, " he left at Michaelmas. Things 
 have been rather smoother since then." 
 
 " I can't help thinking that his leaving just now is 
 indirect evidence against him," said Cecil. " Sigrid and I 
 suspected him from the first. Do not you suspect him?" 
 
 " Yes," he replied, " I do. But without any reason." 
 
 " Why did he go ? " 
 
 " His wife was ill, and was ordered to a warmer climate. 
 He has taken a situation at Plymouth. After all, there is 
 no real evidence against him, and a great deal of evidence 
 against me. How is it that you suspect him ? " 
 
 " It is because I know you had nothing to do with it," 
 said Cecil. 
 
 He had guessed what her answer would be, yet loved to 
 hear her say the words. 
 
 It seemed to him that the dense fog, and the long drive 
 at foot pace, and the anxiety to see the right way, and the 
 manifold difficulties and dangers of this night, resembled 
 his own life. And then it struck him how tedious the drive 
 would have been to him but for Cecil's presence, and he 
 saw how great a difference her trust and friendship made 
 to him. He had always liked her, but now gratitude and 
 reverence woke a new feeling in his heart. Blanche's 
 faithlessness had so crippled his life that no thought of love 
 in the ordinary sense of the word of love culminating in 
 marriage came to his mind. But yet his heart went out 
 to Cecil, and a new influence crept into his life an 
 influence that softened his hardness, that quieted his 
 feverish impatience, that strengthened him to endure. 
 
 " Sigrid and Swanhild have been away with "Mine. 
 Lechertier, have they not ? " asked Cecil, after a silence. 
 
 11 Yes, they went to Hastings for a fortnight. We shut 
 up the rooms, and I went down to Herr Sivertsen, who 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 345 
 
 was staying near Warlingham, a charming little place in 
 the Surrey hills." 
 
 " Sigrid told me you were with him, but I fancied she 
 meant in London." 
 
 " No; once a year he tears himself from his dingy den 
 in Museum Street, and goes down to this place. We were 
 out of doors most of the day, and in the evening worked 
 for four or five hours at a translation of Darwin which he 
 is very anxious to get finished. Hullo ! what is wrong ? " 
 
 He might well ask, for the horse was kicking and plung- 
 ing violently. Shouts and oaths echoed through the 
 murky darkness. Then they could just make out the 
 outline of another horse at right angles with their own. 
 He was almost upon them struggling frantically, and the 
 shaft of the cab belonging to him would have struck Cecil 
 violently in the face had not Frithiof seized it and 
 wrenched it away with all his force. Then, suddenly, the 
 horse was dragged backward, their hansom shivered, reeled, 
 and finally fell on its side. 
 
 Cecil's heart beat fast, she turned deadly white, just felt 
 in the horrible moment of falling a sense of relief when 
 Frithiof threw his arm around her and held her fast ; then 
 for an interval realised nothing at all, so stunning was the 
 violence with which they came to the ground. Apparently 
 both the cabs had gone over and were lying in an extra- 
 ordinary entanglement, while both horses seemed to be 
 still on their feet, to judge by the sounds of kicking and 
 plunging. The danger was doubled by the blinding fog, 
 which made it impossible to realise where one might expect 
 hoofs. 
 
 " Are you hurt ? " asked Frithiof, anxiously. 
 
 " No," replied Cecil, gasping for breath. " Only 
 shaken. How are we to get out ? " 
 
 He lifted her away from him, and managed with some 
 difficulty to scramble up. Then, before she had time to 
 think of the peril, he had taken her in his arms, and, rashly 
 perhaps, but very dexterously, carried her out of danger. 
 Had she not trusted him so entirely it would have been a 
 dreadful minute to her ; and even as it was she turned sick 
 and giddy as she was lifted up, and heard hoofs in perilous 
 proximity, and felt Frithiof cautiously stepping out into 
 that darkness that might be felt, and swaying a little 
 beneath her weight. 
 
346 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 (l Won't you put me down ? I am too heavy for you," 
 she said. But even as she spoke, she felt him shake with 
 laughter at the idea. 
 
 " I could carry you for miles, now that we are safely out 
 of the wreck," he said. " Here is a curbstone, and yes, 
 by good luck, the steps of a house. Now shall we ring up 
 the people and ask them to shelter you while I just lend a 
 hand with the cab ? " 
 
 " No, no, it is so late, I will wait here. Take care you 
 don't get hurt." 
 
 He disappeared into the fog, and she understood him 
 well enough to know that he would keenly enjoy the 
 difficulty of getting matters straight again. 
 
 " I think accidents agree with you," she said laughingly, 
 when by-and-by he came back to her, seeming unusually 
 cheerful. 
 
 " I can't help laughing now to think of the ridiculous 
 way in which both cabs went down and both horses stood 
 up," he said. " It is wonderful that more damage was not 
 done. We all seem to have escaped with bruises, and 
 nothing is broken except the shafts." 
 
 " Let us walk home now," said Cecil. " Does any one 
 know whereabout we are ? " 
 
 " The driver says it is Battersea Bridge Road, some 
 way from Rowan Tree House, you see, but, if you would 
 not be too tired, it would certainly be better not to stay 
 for another cab." 
 
 So they set off, and with much difficulty, at length 
 groped their way to Brixton, not getting home till long 
 after midnight. At the door Frithiof said good-by, and 
 for the first time since the accident Cecil remembered his 
 trouble ; in talking of many things she had lost sight of it, 
 but now it came back to her with a swift pang, all the 
 harder to bear because of the happiness of the last half- 
 hour. 
 
 "You must not go back without resting and having 
 something to eat," she said, pleadingly. 
 
 " You are very kind," he replied, " but I cannot come 
 in." 
 
 " But I shall be so unhappy about you, if you go all that 
 long way back without food ; come in, if it is only to 
 please me." 
 
 Something in her tone touched him, and at that moment 
 the door was opened by Mr. Boniface himself. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 34) 
 
 " Why, Cecil," he cried. " We have been quite anxious 
 about you." 
 
 " Frithiof saw me home because of the fog," she 
 explained. " And our hansom was overturned at Battersea, 
 so we have had to walk from there. Please ask Frithiof 
 to come in, father, we are so dreadfully cold and hungry, 
 yet he will insist on going straight home. 
 
 " It is not to be thought of," said Mr. Boniface. " Come 
 in, come in ; I never saw such a fog." 
 
 So once more Frithiof found himself in the familiar 
 house which always seemed so homelike to him, and for 
 the first time since his disgrace he shook hands with Mrs. 
 Boniface ; she was kindness itself, and yet somehow the 
 meeting was painful and Frithiof wished himself once more 
 in the foggy streets. Cecil seemed intuitively to know 
 how he felt, for she talked fast and gayly as though to fill 
 up the sense of something wanting which was oppressing 
 him. 
 
 " I am sure we are very grateful to you," said Mrs. 
 Boniface when she had heard all about the adventure, and 
 his rescue of Cecil. " I can't think what Cecil would 
 have done without you. As for Roy, finding it so foggy 
 and having a bad headache, he came home early and is 
 now gone to bed. But come in and get warm by the fire. 
 I don't know why we are all standing in the hall." 
 
 Sh^ led the way into the drawing-room, and Cecil gave 
 a cry of astonishment, for, standing on the hearth-rug was 
 a little figure in a red dressing-gown, looking very much 
 like a wooden Noah in a toy ark. 
 
 " Why, Lance," she cried, " you up at this time of 
 night? " 
 
 The little fellow flew to meet her and clung round her 
 neck. 
 
 " I really couldn't exackly help crying," he said, " for I 
 couldn't keep the tears out of my eyes." 
 
 " He woke up a few minutes ago," said Mrs. Boniface, 
 " and finding your bed empty thought that something 
 dreadful had happened to you, and as nurse was asleep I 
 brought him down here, for he was so cold and frightened. 
 
 By this time Lance had released Cecil and was clinging 
 to Frithiof. 
 
 " Gwen and me's been ill," he said, proudly, " and I've 
 grown a whole inch since you were here last. My throat 
 doesn't hurten me now at all." 
 
34* A HARDt NORSEMAN. 
 
 The happy unconsciousness of the little fellow seemed 
 to thaw Frithiof at once, the wretched five-pound note 
 ceased to haunt him as he sat with Lance on his knee, and 
 he ate without much thought the supper that he had 
 fancied would choke him. For Lance, who was faithful 
 to his old friends, entirely refused to leave him, but 
 serenely ate biscuits and begged stray sips of his hot cocoa, 
 his merry childish talk filling up the gaps in a wonderful 
 way and setting them all at their ease. 
 
 " Had you not better stay here for the night ? " said Mrs. 
 Boniface, presently. " I can't bear to think of your having 
 that long walk through the fog." 
 
 "You are very kind," he said, "but Sigrid would be 
 frightened if I didn't turn up," and kissing Lance, he set 
 him down on the hearthrug, and rose to go. Cecil's 
 thanks and warm hand-clasp lingered with him pleasantly, 
 and he set out on his walk home all the better for his visit 
 to Rowan Tree House. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 HAD it not been for the fog his long walk might have made 
 him sleepy, but the necessity of keeping every faculty on 
 the alert, and of sharply watching every crossing and every 
 landmark, made that out of the question. Moreover, now 
 that he had quite recovered from his illness it took a great 
 deal to tire him, and, whenever he did succumb, it was to 
 mental worry, never to physical fatigue. So he tramped 
 along pretty cheerfully, rather enjoying the novelty of the 
 thing, but making as much haste as he could on account 
 of Sigrid. He had just reached the outer door of the 
 model lodgings, and was about to unlock it with the key 
 which was always furnished to those whose work detained 
 them beyond the hour of closing, when he was startled by 
 something that sounded like a sob close by him. He 
 paused and listened ; it came again. 
 
 "Who is there?" he said, straining his eyes to pierce 
 the thick curtain of fog that hung before him. 
 
 The figure of a woman approached him. 
 
 " Oh, sir," she said, checking her sobs, " have you the 
 key, and can you let me in? " 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 349 
 
 " Yes, I have a key. Do you live here ? " 
 
 " No, sir, but I'm sister to Mrs. Hallifield. Perhaps 
 you know Hallifield, the tram conductor. I came to see 
 him to-night because he was taken so ill, but I got hin- 
 dered setting out again, and didn't allow time to get back 
 to MacdougaPs. I'm in his shop, and the rule at his board- 
 ing-houses is that the door is closed at eleven and mayn't 
 be opened any more, and when I got there, sir, being hin- 
 dered with the fog, it was five minutes past." 
 
 " And they wouldn't let you in ? " asked Frithiof. 
 "What an abominable thing the man ought to be 
 ashamed of himself for having such a rule ! Come in ; 
 why you must be half frozen ! I know your sister quite 
 well ! " 
 
 " I can never thank you enough," said the poor girl. " I 
 thought I should have had to stay out all night ! There's 
 a light, I see, in the window ; my brother-in-law is worse, 
 I expect." 
 
 " What is wrong with him ? " asked Frithiof. 
 
 " Oh, he's been failing this long time," said the girl; 
 " it's the long hours of the trams he's dying of. There's 
 never any rest for them you see, sir ; winter and summer, 
 Sunday and week-day they have to drudge on. He's a 
 kind husband and a good father too, and he will go on 
 working for the sake of keeping the home together, but it's 
 little of the home he sees when he has to be away from it 
 sixteen hours every day. They say they're going to give 
 more holidays and shorter hours, but there's a long time 
 spent in talking of things, it seems to me, and in the mean- 
 while John's dying." 
 
 Frithiof remembered how Sigrid had mentioned this very 
 thing to him in the summer when he had told her of his 
 disgrace ; he had been too full of his own affairs to heed her 
 much, but now his heart grew hot at the thought of this 
 pitiable waste of human life, this grinding out of a larger 
 dividend at the cost of such terrible suffering. It was a 
 sign that his new life had actually begun when, instead of 
 merely railing at the injustice of the world, he began to 
 think what he himself could do in this matter. 
 
 " Perhaps they will want the doctor fetched. I will 
 come with you to the door and you shall just see/' he 
 said. 
 
 And the girl, thanking him, knocked at her sister's door, 
 
350 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 spoke to some one inside, and, returning, asked him to 
 come in. To his surprise he found Sigrid in the little 
 kitchen ; she was walking to and fro with the baby, a 
 sturdy little fellow of a year old. 
 
 " You are back at last," she said, " I was getting quite 
 anxious about you. Mr. Hallifield was taken so much 
 worse to-day, and hearing the baby crying I came in to 
 help." 
 
 " How about the doctor ? Do they want him fetched ? " 
 
 " No, he came here about ten o'clock, and he says there 
 is nothing to be done; it is only a question of hours now." 
 
 At this moment the poor wife came into the kitchen, she 
 was still quite young, and the dumb anguish in her face 
 brought the tears to Sigrid's eyes. 
 
 " What, Clara ! " she exclaimed, perceiving her sister, 
 " you back again ! " 
 
 " I was too late," said the girl, " and they had locked 
 me out. But it's no matter now that the gentleman has 
 let me in here. Is John worse again ?" 
 
 " He'll not last long/' said the wife, " and he be that set 
 on getting in here to the fire, for he's mortal cold. But I 
 doubt if he's strength to walk so far." 
 
 " Frithiof, you could help him in," said Sigrid. 
 
 " Will you, sir? I'll thank you kindly if you will," said 
 Mrs. Hallifield, leading the way to the bedroom. 
 
 Frithiof followed her, and glancing toward the bed could 
 hardly control the awed surprise which seized him as for 
 the first time he saw a man upon whom the shadow of 
 death had already fallen. Once or twice he had met Halli- 
 field in the passage setting off to his work in the early 
 morning, and he contrasted his recollection of the brisk, 
 fair-complexioned, respectable locking conductor, and this 
 man propped up with pillows, his face drawn with pain, 
 and of that ghastly ashen hue r/hioh 13 -death's herald. 
 
 "The Norwegian gentlemfi is neve, and will help you 
 into the kitchen, John," said the w$, Beginning to swathe 
 him in blankets. 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said t!w ran gratefully. It's just a 
 fancy I've got to die in thfcrc by the fire, though I doubt 
 I'll never get warm any ny/rc." 
 
 Frithiof carried him in gently and set him down in a 
 cushioned chair drawn cloae to the fire ; he seemed pleased 
 by the change of scene, and looked round the tidy ltle 
 room with brightening eyes. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 351 
 
 " It's a nice little place ! " he said. " I wish I could 
 think you would keep it together, Bessie, but with the four 
 children you'll have a hard struggle to live." 
 
 For the first time she broke down and hid her face in 
 her apron. A look of keen pain passed over the face of 
 the dying man, he clinched and unclinched his hands. But 
 Sigrid, who was rocking the baby on the other side of the 
 hearth, bent forward and spoke to him soothingly. 
 
 lt Don't you trouble about that part of it," she said. 
 " We will be her friends. Though we are poor yet there 
 are many ways in which we can help her, and I know a 
 lady who will never let her want." 
 
 He thanked her with a gratitude that was pathetic. 
 
 " I'm in a burial club," he said after a pause, stretching 
 out his nerveless fingers toward the fire, " she'll have no 
 expenses that way ; they'll bury me very handsome, which'll 
 be a satisfaction to her, poor girl. I've often thought of 
 it when I saw a well-to-do looking funeral pass alongside 
 the tram, but I never thought it would come as soon as 
 this. I'm only going in thirty-five, which isn't no great 
 age for a man." 
 
 " The work was too much for you," said Frithiof. 
 
 " Yes, sir, it's the truth you speak, and there's many 
 another in the same boat along with me. It's a cruel hard 
 life. But then, you see, I was making my four-and six a 
 day, and if I gave up I knew it meant starvation for the 
 wife and the children ; there is thousands out of work, and 
 that makes a man think twice before giving in spite of 
 the long hours." 
 
 " And he did get six shillings a day at one time," said 
 the wife looking up, " but the company's cruel hard, sir, 
 and just because he had a twopence in his money and no 
 ticket to account for its being there they lowered him down 
 to four-and-six again." 
 
 " Yes, that did seem to me hard, I'll not deny, I swore 
 a bit that day," said Hallifield. " But the company never 
 treats us like men, it treats us like slaves. They might 
 have p known me to be honest and careful, it seems as if 
 they downright liked to catch a fellow tripping, and while 
 that's so there's many that'll do their best to cheat." 
 
 " But is nothing being done to shorten the hours, to 
 make people understand how frightful they are ? " asked 
 Sigrid. 
 
352 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " Oh, yes, miss, there's Mrs. Reaney working with all 
 her might for us," said Hallifield. " But you see folks are 
 hard to move, and if we had only the dozen hours a day 
 that we ought to have and every other Sunday at home, 
 why, miss, they'd perhaps not get nine per cent, on their 
 money as they do now." 
 
 " They are no better than murderers ! " said Frithiof 
 hotly. 
 
 " Well," said Hallifield, " so it has seemed to me some- 
 times. But I never set up to know much ; I've had 
 no time for book-learning, not for religion either, barely 
 time for eating and sleeping. I don't think God Almighty 
 will be hard on a fellow that has done his best to keep his 
 wife and children in comfort, and I'll not complain if only 
 he'll just let me sit still and do nothing for a bit, for I'm 
 mortal tired." 
 
 He had been talking eagerly, and for the time his strength 
 had returned to him, but now his head dropped forward, 
 and his hands clutched convulsively at the blankets. 
 
 With a great cry the poor wife started forward and flung 
 her arms round him. 
 
 " He's going ! " she sobbed. " He's going ! John oh, 
 John ! " 
 
 " Nine per cent, on their money ! " thought Frithiof. 
 " My God ! if they could but see this ! " 
 
 By-and-by, when he had done all that he could to help, 
 he went back to his own room, leaving Sigrid still with the 
 poor widow. The scene had made a deep impression on 
 him, he had never before seen any one die, and the thought 
 of poor Hallifield's pathetic confession that he had had no 
 time for anything, but the toil of living, returned to him 
 again and again. 
 
 " That is a death-bed that ought not to have been," he 
 reflected. "It came from the hateful struggle for wealth. 
 Yet the shareholders are no worse than the rest of the 
 world, it is only that they don't think, or if they do think 
 for a time, allow themselves to be persuaded that the com- 
 plaints are exaggerated. How easily men let themselves 
 be hoodwinked by vague statements and comfortable assur- 
 ances when they want to be persuaded, when it is to their 
 own interest to let things go on as before ! " 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 353 
 
 And then quite unable to sleep, he lay thinking of the 
 great problems which had so often haunted him, the sharp 
 contrasts between too great wealth and too great poverty, 
 the unequal chances in life, the grinding competition, the 
 ineffable sadness of the world. But his thoughts were no 
 longer tainted by bitterness and despair, because, though 
 he could not see a purpose in all the great mysteries of life, 
 yet he trusted one who had a purpose, one who in the end 
 must overcome all evil, and he knew that he himself was 
 bound to live and could live a life which should help toward 
 that great end. 
 
 Three days later poor Hallifield's " handsome funeral " 
 set out from the door of the model lodgings, and Frithiof 
 who had given up his half-holiday to go down to the ceme- 
 tery, listened to the words of the beautiful service, thinking 
 to himself how improbable it was that the tram-conductor 
 had ever had the chance of hearing St. Paul's teaching on 
 the resurrection. 
 
 Was there not something wrong in a system which should 
 so tire out a man that the summit of his wishes on his dying 
 day should be but an echo of the overworked woman whose 
 epitaph ended with 
 
 " I'm going to do nothing for ever and ever " ? 
 
 How could this great evil of the overwork of the many, and 
 the too great leisure of the few, be set right ? A socialism 
 which should compulsorily reduce all to one level would be 
 worse than useless. Love of freedom was too thoroughly 
 ingrained in his Norse nature to tolerate that idea for a 
 moment. He desired certain radical reforms with his 
 whole heart, but he saw that they alone would not suffice 
 nothing but individual icve, nothing but the consciousness 
 of individual responsibility could really put an end to the 
 misery and injustice of the present system. In a word the 
 only true remedy was the life of Sonship. 
 
 12 
 
354 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 ONE December day another conclave was held in Mr. Boni- 
 face's private room. Mr. Boniface himself sat with his arm- 
 chair turned round toward the fire, and oft his pleasant, 
 genial face there was a slight cloud, for he much disliked 
 the prospect of the discussion before him. Mr. Horner 
 stood with his back to the mantelpiece, looking even more 
 pompous and conceited than usual, and Roy sat at ib a 
 writing-table, listening attentively to what passed, and 
 relieving his feelings by savagely digging his pen into the 
 blotting-pad to the great detriment of its point. 
 
 " It is high time we came to an understanding on this 
 matter," Mr. Horner was saying. " Do you fully under- 
 stand that when I have once said a thing I keep to it ? 
 Either that Norwegian must go, or when the day comes for 
 renewing our partnership I leave this place never to re- 
 enter it." 
 
 " I do not wish to have any quarrel with you about the 
 matter," said Mr. Boniface. " But I shall certainly not part 
 with Falck. To send him away now would be most cruel 
 and unjustifiable." 
 
 " It would be nothing of the sort," retorted Mr. Horner 
 hotly. " It would be merely following the dictates of com- 
 mon sense and fairness." 
 
 " This is precisely the point on which you and I do not 
 agree," said Mr. Boniface with dignity. 
 
 " It is not only his dishonesty that has set me against 
 him," continued Mr. Horner. " It is his impertinent indif- 
 ference, his insufferable manner when I order him to do 
 anything." 
 
 " I have never myself found him anything but a perfect 
 gentleman/' said Mr. Boniface. 
 
 " Gentleman ! Oh ! I've no patience with all that tom- 
 ' foolery ! I want none of your gentlemen ; I want a shop- 
 man who knows his place and can answer with proper 
 deference." 
 
 " You do not understand the Norse nature," said Roy. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 355 
 
 " Now here in the newspaper, this very day, is a good 
 sample of it." He unfolded the morning paper eagerly and 
 read them the following lines, taking a wicked delight in 
 the thought of how it would strike home : 
 
 " Their noble simplicity and freedom of manners bear 
 witness that they have never submitted to the yoke of a 
 conqueror, or to the rod of a petty feudal lord ; a peasan- 
 try at once so kind-hearted, so truly humble and religious, 
 and yet so nobly proud, where pride is a virtue, who resent 
 any wanton affront to their honour or dignity. As an in- 
 stance of this, it may be mentioned that a naturalist, on find- 
 ing that his hired peasant companions had not done their 
 work of dredging to his satisfaction, scolded them in violent 
 and abusive language. The men did not seem to take the 
 slightest notice of his scolding. * How can you stand there 
 so stupidly and apathetically, as though the matter did not 
 concern you ? ' said he, still more irritated. * It is because 
 we think, sir, that such language is only a sign of bad breed- 
 ing/ replied an unawed son of the mountains, whom even 
 poverty could not strip of the consciousness of his dignity." 
 
 " You insult me by reading such trash," said Mr. Homer, 
 all the more irritated because he knew that Roy had truth 
 on his side, and that he had often spoken to Frithiof abu- 
 sively. " But if you like to keep this thief in your em- 
 ploy 
 
 " Excuse me, but I cannot let that expression pass," 
 said Mr. Boniface. " No one having the slightest know- 
 ledge of Frithiof Falck could believe him guilty of dishon- 
 esty." 
 
 " Well, then, this lunatic with a mania for taking money 
 that belongs to other people this son of a bankrupt, this 
 designing foreigner if you insist on keeping him I with- 
 draw my capital and retire. I am aware that it is a particu- 
 larly inconvenient time to withdraw money from the busi- 
 ness, but that is your affair. ' As you have brewed so you 
 must drink.' " 
 
 " It may put me to some slight inconvenience," said Mr. 
 Boniface. " But as far as I am concerned I shall gladly 
 submit to that rather than go against my conscience with 
 regard to Falck. What do you say, Roy ? " 
 
 "I am quite at one with you, father," replied Roy, with 
 a keen sense of enjoyment in the thought of so quietly 
 baffling James Homer's malicious schemes. 
 
356 A HAIWY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " This designing fellow has made you both his dupes/' 
 said Mr. Horner, furiously. " Some day you'll repent of 
 this and see that I was right." 
 
 No one replied, and, with an exclamation of impatient 
 disgust, James Horner took up his hat and left the room, 
 effectually checkmated. Frithiof, happening, to glance up 
 from his -desk as the angry man strode through the shop, 
 received so furious a glance that he at once realised what 
 must have passed in the private room. It was not, how- 
 ever, until closing time that he could speak alone with Roy, 
 but the moment they were out in the street he turned to 
 him with an eager question. 
 
 " What happened to Mr. Horner to-day? " 
 
 tl He heard a discourse on the Norwegian character 
 which happened to be in the ' Daily News,' by good luck," 
 said Roy, smiling. " By-the-by it will amuse you, take it 
 home." 
 
 And, drawing the folded paper from his coat-pocket, he 
 handed it to Frithiof. 
 
 " He gave me such a furious glance as he passed by, 
 that I was sure something had annoyed him," said Frithiof. 
 
 " Never mind, it is the last you will have from him," said 
 Roy, rubbing his hands with satisfaction. " He has vowed 
 that he will never darken our doors again. Think what a 
 reign of peace will set in." 
 
 " He has really retired, then ? " said Frithiof. " I was 
 afraid it must be so. I can't stand it, Roy ; I can't let you 
 make such a sacrifice for me." 
 
 " Sacrifice ! stuff and nonsense !" said Roy, cheerfully. 
 " I have not felt so free and comfortable for an age. We 
 shall be well rid of the old bore." 
 
 " But his capital ? " 
 
 " Goes away with him," said Roy ; " it will only be a 
 slight inconvenience, probably he will hurt himself far more 
 than he hurts us, and serve him right, too. If there's a 
 man on earth I detest it is my worthy cousin James 
 Horner." 
 
 Frithiof naturally shared this sentiment, yet still he felt 
 very sorry that Mr. Horner had kept his word and left the 
 firm, for all through the autumn he had been hoping that 
 he might relent and that his bark would prove worse than 
 his bite. The sense of being under such a deep obligation 
 to the Bonifaces was far from pleasant to him ; however, 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 357 
 
 there seemed no help for it, and he could only balance it 
 against the great relief of being free from James Horner's 
 continual provocations. 
 
 Later in the evening, when supper was over, he went 
 round to see Herr Sivertsen about some fresh work, and 
 on returning to the model lodgings found Swanhild alone. 
 
 " Where is Sigrid ? " he asked. 
 
 " She has gone in to see the Hallifields," replied the little 
 girl, glancing up from the newspaper which she was reading. 
 
 " You look like the picture of Mother Hubbard's dog, 
 that Lance is so fond of," he said, smiling. " Your English 
 must be getting on or you wouldn't care for the ' Daily 
 News.' Are you reading the praises of the Norse char- 
 acter?" 
 
 As he spoke he leaned over her shoulder to look at the 
 letter which Roy had mentioned ; but Swanhild had turned 
 to the inner sheet and was deep in what seemed to her 
 strangely interesting questions and answers continued 
 down three columns. A hurried glance at the beginning 
 showed Frithiof in large type the words, " THE ROMIAUX 
 DIVORCE CASE." 
 
 He tore the paper away from her, crushed it in his hands, 
 and threw it straight into the fire. Swanhild looked up in 
 sudden panic, terrified beyond measure by his white face 
 and flashing eyes, terrified still more by the unnatural tone 
 in his voice when he spoke. 
 
 " You are never to read such things," he said, vehemently. 
 " Do you understand ? I am your guardian and I forbid 
 you." 
 
 "It was only that I wanted to know about Blanche," 
 said Swanhild, conscious that, in some way she could not 
 explain, he was unjust to her. 
 
 But, unluckily, the mention of Blanche's name was just 
 the one thing that Frithiof could not bear, he lost his self- 
 control. " Don't begin to argue," he said, fiercely. " You 
 ought to have known better than to read that poisonous 
 stuff! You ought to be ashamed of yourself ! " 
 
 This was more than Swanhild could endure ; with a sense 
 of intolerable injury she left the parlour, locked herself into 
 her bedroom, and cried as if her heart would break, taking 
 good care, however, to stifle her sobs in the pillow, since 
 she, too, had her full share of the national pride. 
 
 " It is ungenerous of him to hate poor Blanche so," she 
 
358 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 thought to herself. " Whatever she has done I shall always 
 love her always. And he had no right to speak so to me, 
 it was unfair unfair ! I didn't know it was wrong to read 
 the paper. Father would never have scolded me for it." 
 
 And in this she was quite right ; only a very inex- 
 perienced " guardian " could have made so great a mistake as 
 to reproach her and hold her to blame for quite innocently 
 touching pitch. Perhaps even Frithiof might have been 
 wiser had not the sudden shock and the personal pain of 
 the discovery thrown him off his balance. 
 
 When Sigrid returned in a few minutes she found him 
 pacing the room as restlessly as any wild beast at the Zoo. 
 
 " Frithiof," she said, " what is the matter with you ? 
 Have you and Herr Sivertsen had a quarrel ? " 
 
 " The matter is this," he said hoarsely, checking his 
 restlessness with an effort and leaning against the mantel- 
 piece as he talked to her. " I came back just now and 
 found Swanhild reading the newspaper reading the 
 Romiaux Divorce Case, thoroughly fascinated by it too." 
 
 " I had no idea it had begun," said Sigrid. " We so 
 seldom see an English paper, how did this one happen to 
 be lying about ? " 
 
 " Roy gave it to me to look at an account of Norway ; 
 I didn't know this was in it too. However, I gave Swan- 
 hild a scolding that she'll not soon forget." 
 
 Sigrid looked up anxiously, asking what he had said, 
 and listening with great dissatisfaction to his reply. 
 
 " You did very wrong indeed," she said warmly. " You 
 forget that Swanhild is perfectly innocent and ignorant, 
 you have wronged her very cruelly, and she will feel that 
 though she won't understand it." 
 
 Now Frithiof, although he was proud and hasty, was 
 neither ungenerous nor conceited ; as soon as he had 
 cooled down and looked at the question from this point 
 of view, he saw at once that he had been wrong. 
 
 " I will go to her and beg her pardon," he said at length. 
 
 " No, no, not just yet," said Sigrid, with the feeling that 
 men were too clumsy for this sort of work. " Leave her 
 to me." 
 
 She wrapped softly at the bedroom door and after a 
 /ni mite's pause heard the key turned in the lock. When 
 she entered the room was quite dark, and Swanhild, with 
 her face turned away, was vigourously washing her hands. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 359 
 
 Sigrid began to hunt for some imaginary need iu her box, 
 waiting till the hands were dry before she touched on the 
 sore subject. But presently she plunged boldly into the 
 heait of the matter. 
 
 " Swanhild," she said, " you are crying." 
 
 " No," said the child, driving back the tears that started 
 again to her eyes at this direct assertion, and struggling 
 hard to make her voice cheerful. 
 
 But Sigrid put her arm round her waist and drew her 
 close. 
 
 lt Frithiof told me all about it, and I think he made a 
 great mistake in scolding you. Don't think any more 
 about it." 
 
 But this was more than human nature could possibly 
 promise ; all that she had read assumed now a tenfold 
 importance to the child. She clung to Sigrid, sobbing 
 piteously. 
 
 " He said I ought to be ashamed of myself, but I didn't 
 know I really didn't know." 
 
 "That was his great mistake," said Sigrid quietly. 
 " Now, if he had found me reading that report he might 
 justly have reproached me, for I am old enough to know 
 better. You see, poor Blanche has done what is very 
 wrong, she has broken her promise to her husband and 
 brought misery and disgrace on all who belong to her. 
 But to pry into all the details of such sad stories does out- 
 siders a great deal of harm ; and now you have been told 
 that, I am sure you will never want to read them again." 
 
 This speech restored poor little Swanhild's self-respect, 
 but nevertheless Sigrid noticed in her face all through the 
 evening a look of perplexity which made her quite 
 wretched. And though Frithiof was all anxiety to make 
 up for his hasty scolding, the look still remained, nor did 
 it pass the next day ; even the excitement of dancing the 
 shawl dance with all the pupils looking on did not drive 
 it away, and Sigrid began to fear that the affair had done 
 the child serious harm. Her practical unimaginative 
 nature could not altogether understand Swanhild's dreamy, 
 pensive tendencies. She herself loved one or two people 
 heartily, but she had no ideals, nor was she given to hero- 
 worship. Swanhild's extravagant love for Blanche, a love 
 so ardent and devoted that it had lasted more than two 
 years in spite of every discouragement, was to her utterly 
 
360 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 incomprehensible ; she was vexed that the child should 
 spend so much on so worthless an object ; it seemed to her 
 wrong and unnatural that the love of that pure innocent 
 little heart should be lavished on such a woman as Lady 
 Romiaux. It was impossible for her to see how even this 
 childish fancy was helping to mould Swanhild's character 
 and fit her for her work in the world ; still more impos- 
 sible that she should guess how the child's love should 
 influence Blanche herself and change the whole current of 
 many lives. 
 
 But so it was ; and while the daily life went on in its 
 usual grooves Frithiof at the shop, Sigrid busy with the 
 household work, playing at the academy, and driving 
 away thoughts of Roy with the cares of other people 
 little Swanhild in desperation took the step which meant so 
 much more than she understood. 
 
 It was Sunday afternoon. Frithiof had gone for a walk 
 with Roy, and Sigrid had been carried off by Madame 
 Lechertier for a drive. Swanhild was alone, and likely to 
 be alone for some time to come. " It is now or never," 
 she thought to herself; and opening her desk, she drew 
 from it a letter which she had written the day before, and 
 read it through very carefully. It ran as follows : 
 
 " DEAR SIR, It says in your prayer-book that if any 
 cannot quiet their conscience, but require comfort and 
 counsel, they may come to any discreet and learned min- 
 ister and^ open their grief, thus avoiding all scruple and 
 doubtfulness. I am a Norwegian ; not a member of your 
 church, but I have often heard you preach j and will you 
 please let me speak to you, for I am in a great trouble ? 
 " I am, sir, yours very truly, 
 
 " SWANHILD FALCK." 
 
 Feeling tolerably satisfied with this production, she in- 
 closed it in an envelope, directed it to " The Rev. Charles 
 Osmond, Guilford Square," put on her little black fur hat 
 and her thick jacket and fur cape, and hurried down-stairs, 
 leaving the key with the door-keeper, and making all 
 speed in the direction of Bloomsbury. 
 
 Swanhild, though in some ways childish, as is usually the 
 case with the youngest of the family, was in other respects 
 a very capable little woman. She had been treated with 
 respect and consideration, after the Norwegian custom ; 
 she had been consulted in the affairs of the little home 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 361 
 
 commonwealth ; and of course had been obliged to go to 
 and from school alone every day, so she did not feel un- 
 comfortable as she hastened along the quiet Sunday streets ; 
 indeed, her mind was so taken up with the thought of the 
 coming interview that she scarcely noticed the passers-by, 
 and only paused once, when a little doubtful whether she 
 was taking the nearest way, to ask the advice of a police- 
 man. 
 
 At length she reached Guilford Square, and her heart 
 began to beat fast and her colour to rise. All was very 
 quiet here ; not a soul was stirring ; a moldy-looking statue 
 stood beneath the trees in the garden ; hospitals and insti- 
 tutions seemed to abound ; and Mr. Osmond's house was 
 one of the few private houses still left in what, eighty years 
 ago, had been a fashionable quarter. 
 
 Swanhild mounted the steps, and then, overcome with 
 shyness, very nearly turned back and gave up her project ; 
 however, though shy she was plucky, and making a valiant 
 effort, she rang the bell, and waited trembling, half with 
 fear, half with excitement. 
 
 The maid-servant who opened the door had such a 
 pleasant face that she felt a little reassured. 
 
 " Is Mr. Osmond at home ? " she asked, in her very best 
 English accent. 
 
 " Yes, miss," said the servant. 
 
 "Then will you please give him this," said Swanhild, 
 handing in the neatly written letter. " And I will wait 
 for an answer." 
 
 She was shown into a dining-room, and after a few 
 minutes the servant reappeared. 
 
 " Mr. Osmond will see you in the study, miss," she said. 
 
 And Swanhild, summoning up all her courage, followed 
 her guide, her blue eyes very wide open, her cheeks very 
 rosy, her whole expression so deprecating, so pathetic, that 
 the veriest ogre could not have foud it in his heart to be 
 severe with her. She glanced up quickly, caught a glimpse 
 of a comfortable room, a blazing fire, and a tall, white- 
 haired, white-bearded man who stood on the hearth rug. 
 A look of astonishment and amusement just flitted over his 
 face, then he came forward to meet her, and took her hand 
 in his so kindly that Swanhild forgot all her fears, and at 
 once felt at home with him. 
 
 " I am so glad to see you," he said, making her sit down 
 
362 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 in a big chair by the fire. * l I have read your note, and 
 shall be very glad if I can telp you in any way. But wait 
 a minute. Had you not better take off that fur cape, or 
 you will catch cold when you go out again ? " 
 
 Swanhild obediently took it off. 
 
 " I didn't know," she said, " whether you heard con- 
 fessions or not, but I want to make one if you do." 
 
 He smiled a little but quite kindly. 
 
 " Well, in the ordinary sense, I do not hear confes- 
 sions," he said. " That is to say, I think the habit of 
 coming regularly to confession is a bad habit, weakening 
 to the conscience and character of the one who confesses, 
 and liable to abuse on the part of the one who hears the 
 confession. But the words you quoted in your letter are 
 words with which I quite agree, and if you have anything 
 weighing on your mind and think that I can help you I 
 am quite ready to listen." 
 
 Swanhild seemed a little puzzled by the very home-like 
 and ordinary appearance of the study. She looked round 
 uneasily. 
 
 " Well ? " said Charles Osmoriti, seeing her bewildered 
 look. 
 
 " I was wondering if people kneel down when they come 
 to confession," said Swanhild, with a simple directness 
 which charmed him. 
 
 " Kneel down to talk to me ! " he said, with a smile in 
 his eyes. " Why, no, my child; why should you do that? 
 Sit there by the fire and get warm, and try to make me 
 understand clearly what is your difficulty." 
 
 " It is just this," said Swanhild, now entirely at her 
 ease. " I want to know if it is ever right to break a pro- 
 mise." 
 
 " Certainly it is sometimes right," said Charles Osmond. 
 " For instance, if you were to promise me faithfully to pick 
 some one's pocket on your way home, you would be quite 
 right to break a promise which you never had any right to 
 make. Or if I were to say to you, ' On no account tell any 
 one at your home that you have been here talking to me/ 
 and you agreed, yet such a promise would rightly be broken, 
 because no outsider has any right to come between you and 
 your parents." 
 
 " My father and mother are dead," said Swanhild. "I 
 live with my brother and sister, who are much older than 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN'. 363 
 
 I am I mean really very old, you know twenty- three. 
 They are my guardians ; and what troubles me is that last 
 summer I did something, and promised some one that I 
 would never tell them, and now I am afraid I ought not to 
 have done it." 
 
 ' ; What makes you think that ? " 
 
 " Well, ever since then there has seemed to be a differ- 
 ence at home, and, though I thought what I did would 
 help Frithiof and Sigrid, and make every one happier, yet 
 it seems to have somehow brought a cloud over the house. 
 They have not spoken to me about it, but ever since then 
 Frithiof has had such a sad look in his eyes." 
 
 " Was it anything wrong that you promised to do any- 
 thing that in itself was wrong, I mean ? " 
 
 " Oh, no," said Swanhild ; " the only thing that could 
 have made it wrong was my doing it for this particular 
 person." 
 
 " I am afraid I cannot follow you unless you tell me a 
 little more definitely. To whom did you make this pro- 
 mise ? To any one known to your brother and sister ? " 
 
 " Yes, they both know her; we knew her in Norway, and 
 she was to have married Frithiof; but when he came over 
 to England he found her just going to be married to some 
 one else. I think it was that which changed him so very 
 much ; but perhaps it was partly because at the same time 
 we lost all our money." 
 
 " Do your brother and sister still meet this lady ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ; they never see her now, and never speak of 
 her ; Sigrid is so very angry with her because she did not 
 treat Frithiof well. But I can't help loving her still, she is 
 so very beautiful ; and I think, perhaps, she is very sorry 
 that she was so unkind to Frithiof." 
 
 " How did you come across her again ? " asked Charles 
 Osmond. 
 
 " Quite accidentally in the street, as I came home from 
 school," said Swanhild. " She asked me so many questions 
 and seemed so sorry to know that we were so very poor, 
 and when she asked me to do this thing for her I only 
 thought how kind she was, and I did it, and promised that 
 I would never tell." 
 
 " She had no right to make you promise that, for pro- 
 bably your brother would not care for you still to know 
 her, and certainly would not wish to be under any obliga- 
 tion to her." 
 
364 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " No ; that was the reason why it was all to be a secret," 
 said Swanhild. " And I never quite understood that it 
 was wrong till the other day, when I was reading the 
 newspaper about her, and Frithiof found me and was so 
 very angry, and threw the paper in the fire." 
 
 " How did the lady's name happen to be in the paper? " 
 
 "Sigrid said it was because she had broken her promise 
 to her husband ; it was written in very big letters ' The 
 Romiaux Divorce Case/ " said Swanhild. Charles Osborne 
 started. For some minutes he was quite silent. Then, his 
 eyes falling once more on the wistful iittle face that w^s 
 trying so hard to read his thoughts, he smiled very kindly. 
 
 " Do you know where Lady Romiaux is living ? " he 
 asked. But Swanhild had no idea. " Well, never mind ; 
 I think I can easily find out, for I happen to know one of 
 the barristers who was defending her. You had better, I 
 think, sit down at my desk and write her just a few lines, 
 asking her to release you from your promise ; I will take 
 it to her at once, and if you like you can wait here till I 
 bring you back the answer." 
 
 " But that will be giving you so much trouble," said 
 Swanhild, " and on Sunday, too, when you have so much 
 to do." 
 
 He took out his watch. 
 
 "I shall have plenty of time," he said, "and if I am 
 fortunate enough to find Lady Romiaux, you shall soon 
 get rid of your trouble." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 HAVING established Swanhild at the writing-table, Charles 
 Osmond left her for a few minutes and went up to the 
 drawing-room ; it was one of those comfortable, old- 
 fashioned rooms which one seldom sees now, and resting 
 on the sofa was one of those old-world ladies whose sweet 
 graciousness has such a charm to the more restless end of 
 the nineteenth century. No less than four generations 
 were represented in the room, for by the fire sat Charles 
 Osmond's daughter-in-law, and on her knee was her baby 
 son the delight of the whole house. 
 
 " Erica," he said, coming toward the hearth, " strangely 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 365 
 
 enough the very opportunity I wanted has come. I have 
 been asked to see Lady Romiaux on a matter connected 
 with some one who once knew her, so you see it is possible 
 that after all your wish may come true, and I may be of 
 some use to her." 
 
 Erica looked up eagerly, her face, which in repose was 
 sad, brightened wonderfully. 
 
 " How glad I am, father ! You know Donovan always 
 said there was so much that was really good in her, if only 
 some one could draw it out." 
 
 " How did the case end ? " asked Mrs. Osmond. 
 
 lt It ended in a disagreement of the jury," replied her son. 
 " Why, I can't understand, for the evidence was utterly 
 against her, according to Ferguson. I am just going round 
 to see him now, and find out her address from him, and in 
 the meantime there's a dear little Norwegian girl in my 
 study, who will wait till I bring back an answer. Would 
 you like her to come up here ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Erica, " by all means let us have her if 
 she can talk English. Rae is waking up, you see, and we 
 will come down and fetch her." 
 
 Swanhild had just finished her letter when the door of the 
 study opened, and looking up she saw Charles Osmond 
 once more, and beside him a lady who seemed to her more 
 lovely than Blanche ; she was a good deal older than Lady 
 Romiaux and less strikingly beautiful, but there was some- 
 thing in her creamy-white colouring and short auburn hair, 
 something in the mingled sadness and sweetness of her 
 face that took Swanhild's heart by storm. 
 
 " This is my daughter-in-law, Mrs. Brian Osmond, and 
 this is my grandson." said Charles Osmond, allowing Rae's 
 tiny fingers to play with his long white beard. 
 
 " Will you come up-stairs and stay with us till Mr. 
 Osmond comes back?" said Erica, shaking hands with 
 her, and wondering not a little what connection there could 
 be between this fair-haired, innocent little Norse girl and 
 Lady Romiaux. And then seeing that Swanhild was shy she 
 kept her hand in hers and led her up to the drawing-room, 
 where, with the baby to play with, she was soon perfectly 
 happy, and chattering away fast enough to the great 
 amusement of old Mrs. Osmond, who heard the whole 
 story of the model lodgings of the dancing classes, and of 
 the old home in Norway. 
 
366 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 In the meanwhile Charles Osmond had reached his 
 friend's chambers, and to his great satisfaction found him 
 in. 
 
 " As far as I know," replied Mr. Ferguson, " Lady 
 Romiaux is still in lodgings in George Street." He drew 
 a card from his pocket-book and handed it to the clergy- 
 man. " That's the number ; and to my certain knowledge 
 she was there yesterday. Her father won't have anything 
 to do with her." 
 
 " Poor child ! " said Charles Osmond half to himself, 
 " I wonder what will become of her? " 
 
 Mr. Ferguson shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Well, she's brought it all on herself," he said. " There 
 is no doubt whatever that she is guilty, and how the jury 
 disagreed I'm sure I don't know." 
 
 Charles Osmond did not stay to discuss the matter, but 
 made the best of his way to George Street, and sent in his 
 card with a request that Lady Romiaux would, if possible, 
 see him on a matter of business. 
 
 In a minute or two he was ushered into a drawing-room, 
 which had the comfortless air of most lodging-house rooms ; 
 standing on the hearthrug was a young, delicate-looking 
 girl; for a moment he did not recognise her as the Lady 
 Romiaux whose portraits were so well known, for trouble 
 had sadly spoiled her beauty, and her eyelids were red and 
 swollen, either with want of sleep or with many tears. 
 
 She bowed, then meeting his kindly eyes, the first eyes 
 she had seen for so long which did not stare at her in hate- 
 ful curiosity, or glance at her with shrinking disapproval, 
 she came quickly forward and put her hand in his. 
 
 " For what reason can you have come ? " she exclaimed ; 
 " you of all men." 
 
 He was struck with the wild look in her great dark eyes, 
 and intuitively knew that other work than the delivery of 
 little Swanhild's letter awaited him here. 
 
 " Why do you say, ' Of all men ' in that tone ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " Because you are one of the very few men who ever 
 made me wish to do right," she said quickly. " Because 
 I used sometimes to come to your church till till I did 
 not dare to come, because what you said made me so 
 miserable." 
 
 " My poor child," he said : " there are worse things than 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 367 
 
 to be miserable ; you are miserable now, but your very 
 misery may lead you to peace." 
 
 " No, no," she sobbed, sinking down on a sofa and 
 hiding her face in her hands. " My life is over there is 
 nothing left for me. And yet," she cried, lifting her head 
 and turning her wild eyes toward him, " yet I have not the 
 courage to die, even though my life is a misery to me and 
 a snare to every one I come across." 
 
 " Are you alone here ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes ; my father and mother will have nothing to say 
 to me and there is no one else I mean no one else that 
 I would have." 
 
 He breathed more freely. 
 
 " You must not say your life is over," he replied. "Your 
 life in society is over, it is true, but there is something 
 much better than that which you may now begin. Be sure 
 that if you wish to do right it is still possible for you." 
 
 " Ah, but I can't trust myself," she sobbed. It will be 
 so very difficult all alone." 
 
 " Leave that for God to arrange," he said. " Your part is 
 to trust to Him and try your best to do right. Tell me, 
 do you not know my friend Donovan Farrant, the mem- 
 ber for Greyshot ? " 
 
 She brushed the tears from her eyes and looked up more 
 quietly. 
 
 " I met him once at a country house in Mountshire," 
 she said. " He and his wife were there just for two days, 
 and they were so good to me. I think he guessed that I 
 was in danger then, for one day he walked with me in the 
 grounds, and he spoke to me as no one had ever spoken 
 before. He saw that my husband and I had quarrelled, 
 and he saw that I was flirting out of spite with with 
 well, no matter ! But he spoke straight out, so that if it 
 hadn't been for his wonderful tact and goodness I should 
 have been furious with him. And he told me how the 
 thing that had saved him all through his life was the in- 
 fluence of good women ; and just for a few days I did 
 want to be good, and to use my power rightly. But the 
 Farrants went away, and I vexed my husband again and 
 we had another quarrel, and when he was gone down to 
 speak at Colonel Adair's election, I went to stay, against 
 his wish, at Belcroft Park ; and when I had done that, it 
 seemed as if I were running right down a steep hill and 
 really couldn't stop myself." 
 
368 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 11 But now," said Charles Osmond, "you must begin to 
 climb the liiil once more. You must be wondering though 
 all this time what was the errand that brought me here. 
 I brought you this letter from a little Norwegian girl 
 Swanhild Falck. In the midst of your great trouble I dare 
 say her trouble will seem very trifling, still I hope you will 
 be able to release her from her promise, for it is evidently 
 weighing on her mind." 
 
 " That's another instance of the harm I do wherever 1 
 go," said poor Blanche, reading the letter, " and in this 
 case I was really trying to undo the past, very foolishly as 
 I see now. Tell Swanhild that she is quite free from her 
 promise, and that if it has done harm I am sorry. But I 
 always do harm ! Do you remember that story of Natha- 
 niel Hawthorne's about the daughter of the botanist, who 
 was brought up on the juices of a beautiful poison-plant, 
 and who poisoned with her breath every one that came 
 near her? I think I am like that." 
 
 " I remember it," he replied. "A weird, unwholesome 
 story. But if I remember right, the heroine died herself 
 rather than poison others." 
 
 " Yes, and that is what I wish to do," she said, with once 
 more that look in her eyes which had startled him. " But 
 I am a coward ; I haven't the courage." 
 
 " Wait," he said gravely ; " there is a real truth in your 
 idea, but do not set about it in a wrong way. To seek 
 physical death would only be to take another wrong step. 
 It is not you, but your selfishness that must die." 
 
 " But if I were not what you would call selfish, if I did 
 not love to attract men and make them do just what I 
 please, if I did not enjoy the feeling that they are in love 
 with me, I should no longer be myself," she said. 
 
 " You would no longer be your false self," he replied. 
 " You would be your true self. Do you think God made 
 you beautiful that you might be a snare in the world ? 
 He made you to be a joy and a blessing, and you have 
 abused one of his best gifts." 
 
 She began to cry again, to sob piteouslv, almost like a 
 child. 
 
 Charles Osmond spoke once more, and there was a great 
 tenderness in his voice. 
 
 " You have found now that self-pleasing brings misery 
 to yourself and every one else. I know you wish to do 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 369 
 
 right, but you must do more than that ; you must reso- 
 lutely give your body, soul, and spirit to God, desiring only 
 to do His will." 
 
 She looked up once more, speaking with the vehemence 
 of despair. 
 
 " Oh," she said, " it seems all real now while I talk to 
 you, but I know it will fade away, and the temptations will 
 be much more strong. You don't know what the world is 
 you are good, and you have no time to see with your own 
 eyes how, underneath all that is so respectable, it is hollow 
 and wicked." 
 
 " It will be your own fault if you are not stronger than 
 the temptations with which God allows you to be assailed," 
 he said. " You loathe and fear evil, and that is a step in the 
 right direction, but now you must turn right away from it, 
 and learn to look at purity, and goodness, and love. Don't 
 believe that vice is to conquer that is the devil's lie. The 
 strength of the Infinite, the love of the All-Father will con- 
 quer and that love and that strength are for you." 
 
 " What ! " sobbed Blanche, " for a woman who has dis- 
 honoured her name a woman cast out of society ? " 
 
 Charles Osmond took her hand in his strong, firm clasp. 
 
 " Yes, my child," he said, " they are for you." 
 
 There was a long silence. 
 
 " And now," he said at length, " unless you have any 
 other friends to whom you would rather go, I am going to 
 ask you to come home with me. I can promise you at 
 least rest and shelter, and a welcome from my dear old 
 mother, who, being very near to the other world, does not 
 judge people after the custom of this one." 
 
 " But," she said, with a look of mingled relief and per- 
 plexity, " how can I let you do so much for a mere stranger? 
 Oh, I should like to come but but " 
 
 " You are no longer a stranger," he replied. " And you 
 must not refuse me this. You shall see no one at all if you 
 prefer it. Ours is a busy house, but in some ways it is the 
 quietest house in London. My son and his wife live with 
 us. They, too, will be so glad if we can be of any use to 
 you. Come, I cannot leave you here in this loneliness." 
 
 " Do you mean that I am to come now ? " she said, start- 
 ing up. ' 
 
 " Yes, if you will," he replied. " But I will go and call 
 a hansom ; ai>d since I am in rather a hurry, perhaps you 
 
370 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 will let your maid follow with your things later on in the 
 evening." 
 
 So in a few minutes they were driving together to Guil- 
 ford Square, and Blanche was transplanted from her miser- 
 able loneliness into the heart of one of the happiest homes 
 in the country. Leaving her in the study, Charles Osmond 
 went in seach of Swanhild. 
 
 11 It is all right," he said, handing her a little note in 
 Blanche's writing ; and while the child eagerly read it he 
 turned to his daughter-in-law. 
 
 " Will you tell them to get the spare room ready, Erica, 
 dear ? " he said. " I have persuaded Lady Romiaux to stay 
 with us for a little while." 
 
 Swanhild caught the words, and longed to ask to see 
 Blanche, but she remembered that Sigrid would not like 
 it ; and then, with a sudden recollection that the afternoon 
 was almost over, and that she must go home, she thanked 
 Charles Osmond, reluctantly parted with the baby, kissed 
 old Mrs. Osmond and Erica, who made her promise to 
 come and see them again, and hurried back to the model 
 lodgings. 
 
 Her happiness and relief, and the pleasurable excitement 
 of having learned to know a new and delightful family, 
 were slightly clouded by the uncomfortable thought of the 
 confession that lay before her. What would Frithiof and 
 Sigrid say to her ? And how should she put into words the 
 story of what she more and more felt to have been a wrong 
 and foolish, and very childish scheme of help ? 
 
 " Oh, how I wish it were over ! " she thought to herself, 
 as she marched on to her disagreeable work like a little Tro- 
 jan. Big Ben was striking five as she crossed the court- 
 yard. She had been away from home more than two hours. 
 She hurried on to the porter's office, and asked breathlessly 
 for the key. 
 
 " Mr. Falck took it ten minutes ago," said the man. 
 
 And Swanhild turned away with a sigh and a little shiver, 
 and began very slowly to mount the stone stairs. 
 
 11 Oh ! what will he say to me ? " she thought, as she 
 clasped Blanche's note fast in her little cold hand. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 371 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 ALTHOUGH she had climbed the stairs so slowly, poor 
 Swanhild was still out of breath when she reached the door 
 leading into the little parlour ; she paused a moment to re- 
 cover herself, and, hearing voices within, became a degree 
 more miserable, for she had counted upon finding Frithiof 
 alone. Clearly Sigrid must also have returned, and, indeed, 
 things were even worse than that, for as she opened the 
 door and emerged round the Japanese screen she saw Roy 
 standing by the fire ; for this she had been utterly unpre- 
 pared, and, indeed, it was very seldom that he came now 
 to the model lodgings. 
 
 " At last ! " exclaimed Frithiof, " why, Swanhild, where 
 on earth have you been to ? We were just thinking of 
 having you cried." 
 
 " We were preparing an advertisement to appear in all 
 the papers to-morrow morning," said Roy, laughing, "and 
 were just trying to agree as to the description ; you'll hardly 
 believe me, but your guardian hadn't the least notion what 
 colour your eyes are." 
 
 Frithiof drew her toward him, smiling. 
 
 " Let me see now in case she is ever lost again," he 
 said, but noticing a suspicious moisture in the blue eyes 
 he no longer teased her, but made her sit down on his 
 knee and drew off her gloves. 
 
 " What is the matter, dear?" he said, "you look cold 
 and tired ; where have you been to ? " 
 
 " I have been to see Mr. Osmond," said Swanhild, " you 
 know we often go to his church, Sigrid and I, and there 
 was something I wanted to ask him about. Last summer 
 I made a promise which I think was wrong, and I wanted 
 to know whether I might break it." 
 
 "What did he say?" asked Frithiof, while Sigrid and 
 Roy listened in silent astonishment. 
 
 " He said that a wrong promise ought to be broken, 
 and he managed to get me leave to speak from the person 
 to whom I made the promise. And now I am going to 
 tell you about it." 
 
372 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 Frithiof could feel how the poor little thing was trem- 
 bling. 
 
 "Don't be frightened, darling," he said, "just tell us 
 everything and no one shall interrupt you." 
 
 She gave his hand a grateful little squeeze and went on. 
 
 " It happened just after we had come back from the sea 
 last June. I was coining home from school on Saturday 
 morning when, just outside the court-yard, I met Lady 
 Romiaux. Just for a moment I did not know her, but she 
 knew me directly, and stopped me and said how she had 
 met you and Sigrid at a party, and had ever since been so 
 miserable to think that we were so poor, and somehow she 
 had found out our address, and wanted to know all about 
 us, only when she actually got to the door she did not like 
 to come in. And she said she was so glad to see me, and 
 asked all sorts of questions, and when she heard that you 
 meant to pay off the debts she looked so sad, and she said 
 that the bankruptcy was all her fault, and she asked how 
 much I thought you had got toward it, and seemed quite 
 horrified to think what a little it was, and what years the 
 work would take. And then she said to me that she 
 wanted to help, too, just a little, only that you must never 
 know, and she thought I could easily pay in a five-pound 
 note to your account at the bank, she said, without 
 your knowing anything about it. She made me promise 
 to do it secretly, and never to tell that it was from her. 
 You can't think how kindly she said it all, and how 
 dreadfully sad she looked I don't think I could possi- 
 bly have said ' no ' to her. But afterward I began 
 to see that I couldn't very well pay the note into your 
 account at the post-office, for I hadn't got your little 
 book that you always take, and besides I didn't know 
 which office you went to. So I worried about it all the 
 next day, which was Sunday, and in the evening at church 
 it suddenly came into my head that I would put it with 
 your other money inside your waistcoat pocket." Roy 
 made an involuntary movement, Sigrid drew a little nearer, 
 but Frithiof never stirred. Swanhild continued : " So the 
 next morning, when I went into your bedroom to wake 
 you up, I slipped the note into your pocket, and then I 
 thought, just supposing you were to lose it, it seemed so 
 light and so thin, and I pinned it to the lining to make it 
 quite safe. You were sleeping very soundly, and were 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 373 
 
 quite hard to wake up. At first I felt pretty happy about 
 it, and I thought if you asked me if I had put it there when 
 you found it out I should be able to say c yes ' and yet to 
 keep Blanche's secret. But you never said a word about 
 it, and I was sure something had troubled you very much, 
 and I was afraid it must be that, yet dared not speak about 
 it, and I tried to find out from Sigrid, but she only said 
 that you had many troubles which I was too young to 
 understand. It often made me very unhappy, but I never 
 quite understood that I had done wrong till the night you 
 found me reading the paper, and then I thought that I 
 ought not to have made the promise to Lady Romiaux. 
 This is the note which Mr. Osmond brought me from her." 
 Frithiof took the little crumpled sheet and read it. 
 
 " DEAR SWANHILD, You are quite free to speak about 
 that five-pound note, I never ought to have made you 
 promise secrecy, and, indeed, gave the money just by a sud- 
 den impulse. It was a foolish thing to do, as I see now, 
 but I meant it well. I hope you will all forgive me. 
 
 " Yours affectionately, 
 
 ' ; BLANCHE." 
 
 Then Roy and Sigrid read the note together, and Roy 
 grasped Frithiof 's hand. 
 
 " Will you ever forgive me ? " he said. " Cecil was right, 
 and I ought to have known that this miserable affair 
 would one day be explained." 
 
 Frithiof still looked half stunned, he could not realise 
 that the cloud had at last dispersed, he was so taken up 
 with the thought of the extraordinary explanation of the 
 mystery of the childish, silly, little plan that had brought 
 about such strange results. 
 
 " Oh, Swanhild ! " cried Sigrid, " if only you had spoken 
 sooner how much pain might have been saved." 
 
 " Don't say that," said Frithiof, rousing himself, " she 
 has chosen the right time, depend upon it. I can hardly 
 believe it all yet. But, oh ! to think of having one's 
 honour once more unstained and this death in life over ! " 
 
 " What do you mean ? What do you mean ? " sobbed 
 poor little Swanhild utterly perplexed by the way in which 
 her confession had been received. 
 
 " Tell her," said Sigrid, glancing at Roy. 
 
374 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 So he told her exactly what had happened in the shop 
 on that Monday in June. 
 
 " We kept it from you," said Frithiof, " because I liked 
 to feel that there was at any rate one person unharmed by 
 my disgrace, and because you seemed so young to be 
 troubled with such things." 
 
 " But hoAv can it have happened ? " said Swanhild ; " who 
 took the note really from the till ? " 
 
 " It must have been Darnell," said Roy. " He was 
 present when Sardoni got the change, he saw James 
 Homer put away the note, he must have managed during 
 the time that you two were alone in the shop to take it out, 
 and no doubt if he had been searched first, the other 
 five-pound note would have been found on him. What a 
 blackguard the man must be to have let you suffer for him. 
 I'll have the truth out of him before I'm a day older." 
 
 "Oh! Frithiof! Frithiof! I'm so dreadfully sorry," 
 sobbed poor Swanhild. " I thought it would have helped 
 you, and it has done nothing but harm." 
 
 But Frithiof stooped down and silenced her with a kiss. 
 
 " You see the harm it has done," he said, " but you don't 
 see the good. Come, stop crying, and let us have tea, for 
 your news has given me an appetite, and I'm sure you are 
 tired and hungry after all this." 
 
 " But could it ever have entered anyone's head that 
 such an improbable thing should actually happen ? " said 
 Roy, as he mused over the story. " To think that Sardoni 
 should get change for his note, and Darnell steal it on the 
 very day that Swanhild had given you that unlucky con- 
 tribution to the debt-fund ! " 
 
 " It is just one of those extraordinary coincidences which 
 do happen in life/' said Sigrid. " I believe if every one 
 could be induced to tell all the strange things of the kind 
 that had happened we should see that they are after all 
 pretty common things." 
 
 " I wonder if there is a train to Plymouth to-night ? " 
 said Roy. " I shall not rest till I have seen Darnell. 
 For nothing less than his confession signed and sealed will 
 satisfy James Horner. Do you happen to have a Brad- 
 shaw ? " 
 
 " No but we have something better," said Sigrid smil- 
 ing ; "on the next landing there is Owen, one of the 
 Great Western guards. I know he is at home, for I 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 375 
 
 passed him just now on the stairs, and he will tell you 
 about the trains." 
 
 " What a thing it is to live in model lodgings ! " said 
 Roy, smiling. " You seem to me to keep all the pro- 
 fessions on the premises. Come, Frithiof, do go and 
 interview this guard and ask him how soon I can get 
 down to Plymouth and back again." 
 
 Frithiof went out, there was still a strange look of 
 abstraction in his face. " I scarcely realised before how 
 much he had felt this," said Roy. " What a fool I was to 
 be so positive that my own view of the case was right ! 
 Looking at it from my own point of view I couldn't realise 
 how humiliating it must all have been to him how 
 exasperating to know that you were in the right yet not to 
 be able to convince any one." 
 
 " It has been like a great weight on him all through the 
 autumn," said Sigrid, " and yet I know what he meant 
 when he told Swanhild that it had done him good as well 
 as harm. Don't you remember how at one time he cared 
 for nothing but clearing off the debts ? Well, now, though 
 he works hard at that, yet he cares for other people's 
 troubles too that is no longer his one idea." 
 
 And then because she knew that Roy was thinking of 
 the hope that this change had brought into their lives, and 
 because her cheeks grew provokingly hot, she talked fast 
 and continuously, afraid to face her own thoughts, yet all 
 the time conscious of such happiness as she had not known 
 for many months. 
 
 Before long Frithiof returned. 
 
 " I don't think you can do it," he said. " Owen tells 
 me there is a train from Paddington at 9.50 this evening, 
 but it isn't a direct one and you won't get to Plymouth till 
 9.28 to-morrow morning. A most unconscionable time, 
 you see." 
 
 " Why not write to Darnell ? ' suggested Sigrid. 
 
 " No, no, he would get out of it in some mean way. I 
 intend to pounce on him unexpectedly and in that way to 
 get at the truth," replied Roy. " This train will do very 
 well. I shall sleep on the way, but I must just go to 
 Regent Street and get the fellow's address." 
 
 This, however, Frithiof was able to tell him, and they 
 lingered long over the tea-table, till at length Roy 
 remembered that it might be as well to see his father an<3 
 
376 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 let him know what had happened before starting foi 
 Devonshire. Very reluctantly he left the little parlour, but 
 he took away with him the grateful pressure of Sigrid's 
 hand, the sweet, bright glance of her blue eyes, and the 
 echo of her last words, spoken softly and sweetly in her 
 native language. 
 
 " farvel ! Tak skal De have." (Farewell ! Thanks 
 you shall have.) Why had she spoken to him in Norse? 
 Was it perhaps because she wished him to feel that he was 
 no foreigner but one of themselves ? Whatever her reason 
 it touched him and pleased him that she had spoken just 
 in that way, and it was with a very light heart that he 
 made his way to Rowan Tree House. 
 
 The lamp was not lighted in the drawing-room, but 
 there was a blazing fire, and on the hearth-rug sat Cecil 
 with Lance nestled close to her, listening with all his ears 
 to one of the hero stories which she always told him on 
 Sunday evenings. 
 
 " Has father gone to chapel ? " asked Roy. 
 
 " Yes, some time ago," replied Cecil. " Is anything the 
 matter ? " 
 
 Something told her that Roy's unexpected appearance 
 was connected with Frithiof, and, accustomed always to 
 fear for him, her heart almost stood still. 
 
 " Don't look so frightened," said Roy, as the firelight 
 showed him her dilated eyes. " Nothing is the matter I 
 have brought home some very good news. Frithiof is 
 cleared, and that wretched business of the five-pound note 
 fully explained." 
 
 " At last ! " she exclaimed. " What a relief ! But how ? 
 Do tell me all." 
 
 He repeated Swanhild's story, and then, hoping to catch 
 his father in the vestry before the service began he hurried 
 off, leaving Cecil to the only companionship she could 
 have borne in her great happiness that of little Lance. 
 
 But Roy found himself too late to catch his father, there 
 was nothing for it but to wait, and, anxious to speak to 
 him at the earliest opportunity, he made his way into the 
 chapel that he might get hold of him when the service was 
 over, for otherwise there was no saying how long he might 
 not linger talking with the other deacons, who invariably 
 wanted to ask his advice about a hundred and one things. 
 
 He was at this moment giving out the hymn, and Roy 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 377 
 
 liked to hear him do this once more ; it carried him back 
 to his boyhood to the times when there had been no 
 difference of opinion between them. He sighed just a 
 little, for there is a- sadness in all division, because it 
 reminds us that we are still in the days of school-time, 
 that life is as yet imperfect, and that by different ways, not 
 as we should wish all in the same way, we are being trained 
 and fitted for a perfect unity elsewhere. 
 
 Mr. Boniface was one of those men who are everywhere 
 the same, he carried his own atmosphere about with him, 
 and sitting now in the deacon's seat beneath the pulpit he 
 looked precisely as he did in his home or in his shop. It 
 was the same quiet dignity, that was noticeable in him, the 
 same kindly spirit, the same delightful freedom from all 
 self-importance. One could hardly look at him without 
 remembering the fine old saying, " A Christian is God 
 Almighty's gentleman." 
 
 When, by-and-by, he listened to Roy's story, told gra- 
 phically enough as they walked home together, his regret 
 for having misjudged Frithiof was unbounded. He was 
 almost as impatient to get hold of Darnell as his son was. 
 
 " Still," he observed, you will not gain much by going 
 to-night, why not start to-morrow by the first train? " 
 
 " If I go now," said Roy, " I shall be home quite early 
 to-morrow evening, and Tuesday is Christmas eve a 
 wretched day for travelling. Besides, I can't wait." 
 
 Both father and mother knew well enough that it was 
 the thought of Sigrid that had lent him wings, and Mr. 
 Boniface said no more, only stipulating that he should be 
 just and generous to the offender. 
 
 " Don't visit your own annoyance on him, and don't 
 speak too hotly," he said. " Promise him that he shall not 
 be prosecuted or robbed of his character if only he will 
 make full confession, and see what it was that led him to 
 do such a thing. I can't at all understand it. He always 
 seemed to me a most steady, respectable man." 
 
 Roy, being young and having suffered severely himself 
 through Darnell's wrong-doing, felt anything but judicial 
 as he travelled westward on that cold December night ; he 
 vowed that horse-whipping would be too good for such a 
 scoundrel, and rehearsed interviews in which his attack 
 was brilliant and Darnell's defense most feeble. Then he 
 clozed a little ? dreamed of Sigrid, woke cold and depressed 
 
378 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 to find that he must change carriages at Bristol, and finally 
 after many vicissitudes was landed at Plymouth at half-past 
 nine on a damp and cheerless winter morning. 
 
 Now that he was actually there h began to dislike the 
 thought of the work before him, and to doubt whether after 
 all his attack would be as brilliant in reality as in imagina- 
 tion. Rather dismally he made a hasty breakfast, and then 
 set off through the wet, dingy streets to the shop where 
 Darnell was at present employed. To his relief he found 
 that it was not a very large one, and, on entering, dis- 
 covered the man he sought, behind the counter and quite 
 alone. As he approached him he watched his face keenly ; 
 Darnell was a rather good-looking man, dark, pale, emi- 
 nently respectable ; he looked up civilly at the supposed 
 customer, then, catching sight of Roy, he turned a shade 
 paler and gave an involuntary start of surprise. 
 
 " Mr. Robert ! " he stammered. 
 
 " Yes, Darnell ; I see you know what I have come for," 
 said Roy quietly. " It was certainly a very strange, a most 
 extraordinary coincidence that Mr. Falck should, unknown 
 to himself, have had another five-pound note in his pocket 
 that day last June, but it has been fully explained. Now I 
 want your explanation." 
 
 " Sir ! " gasped Darnell ; " I don't understand you ; I I 
 am at a loss " 
 
 "Come, don't tell any more lies about it," said Roy 
 impatiently. "We know now that you must have taken 
 it, for no one else was present. Only confess the truth, 
 and you shall not be prosecuted ; you shall not lose your 
 situation here. What induced you to do it? " 
 
 " Don't be hard on me, sir," stammered the man. " I 
 assure you I've bitterly regretted it many a time." 
 
 " Then why did you not make a clean breast of it to my 
 father?" said Roy. "You might have known that he 
 would never be hard on you." 
 
 " I wish I had," said Darnell, in great distress ; " I wish 
 to God I had, sir, for it's been a miserable business from 
 first to last. But I was in debt, and there was nothing but 
 ruin before me, and I thought of my wife who was ill, and 
 I knew that the disgrace would kill her." 
 
 "So you went and disgraced yourself still more," said 
 Roy hotly. " You tried to ruin another ma.n, instead of 
 yourself " 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 379 
 
 "But he wasn't turned off," said Darnell. "And they 
 put it all on his illness, and it seemed as if, after all, it would 
 not hurt him so much. It was a great temptation, and 
 when I had once given way to it there seemed no turning 
 back." 
 
 " Tell me just how you took it," said Roy, getting rather 
 more calm and judicial in his manner. 
 
 " I saw Mr. Horner give Signer Sardoni the change, sir, 
 and I saw him put the note in the till j and I was just 
 desperate with being in debt and not knowing how to get 
 straight again." 
 
 " But wait a minute how had you got into such difficul- 
 ties ?" interrupted Roy. "And how could a five-pound 
 note help you out again? " * 
 
 " Well, sir, I had been unlucky in a betting transaction, 
 but I thought I could right myself if only I could get some- 
 thing to try again with; but there wasn't a soul I could 
 borrow from. I thought I should get straight again at 
 once if only I had five pounds in hand, and so I did, sir j I 
 was on my feet again the very next day." 
 
 " I might have known it was betting that had ruined 
 you," said Roy. " Now go back and tell me when you 
 took the note." 
 
 " I kept on thinking and planning through the afternoon, 
 sir, and then, presently, all was quiet, and only Mr. Falck 
 with me in the shop, and I was just wondering how to get 
 rid of him, when Mr. Horner opened the door of Mr. Boni- 
 face's room and called to me. Then I said, ' Do go, Mr. 
 Falck, for I have an order to write to catch the post.' And 
 he went for me, and I hurried across to his counter while 
 he was gone, and took the note out of the till and put it 
 inside my boot ; and when he came back he found me 
 writing at my desk just as he had left me. He came up 
 looking a little put out, as if Mr. Horner had rubbed him 
 the wrong way, and he says to me, ' It's no use ; you must 
 go yourself, after all.' So I went to Mr. Horner, leaving 
 Mr. Falck alone in the shop." 
 
 " Were you not afraid lest he should open the till and 
 find out that the note was gone ? " 
 
 " Yes, I was very much afraid. But all went well, and I 
 intended to go out quickly at tea-time it was close upon 
 it then and do what I could to get it straight again. I 
 thought I could invent an excuse for not returning to the 
 
380 A H-ARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 shop that night; say I'd been taken suddenly ill or some- 
 thing of that sort. It was Mr. Falck's turn to go first; 
 and while he was out, as ill-luck would have it, Mi. Homer 
 came to take change from the till, and then all the row 
 began. I made sure I was ruined, and no one was more 
 surprised than myself at the turn that affairs took." 
 
 " But," exclaimed Roy, "when you were once more out 
 of debt, how was it that you did not confess, and do what 
 you could to make up for your shameful conduct ? " 
 
 " Well, sir, I hadn't the courage. Sometimes I thought 
 I would ; and then, again, I couldn't make up my mind 
 to ; and I got to hate Mr. Falck, and I hated him more 
 because he behaved well about it ; and I got into the way 
 of spiting him and making the place disagreeable to him ; 
 and I hoped that he would leave. But he stuck to his 
 post through it all ; and I began to think it would be safer 
 that I should leave, for I felt afraid of him somehow. So 
 at Michaelmas I took this situation. And oh ! sir, for my 
 wife's sake don't ruin me ; don't expose all this to my em- 
 ployer ! " 
 
 " I promised you just now that you should not be 
 exposed ; but you must write a few words of confession to 
 my father ; and be quick about it, for I want to catch the 
 express to London." 
 
 Darnell, who was still pale and agitated, seized pen and 
 paper, and wrote a few words of apology and a clear con- 
 fession. To write was hard, but he was in such terror lest 
 his employers should return and discover his miserable 
 secret that he dared not hesitate dared not beat about 
 the bush. 
 
 Roy watched him with some curiosity, wondering now 
 that he had not suspected the man sooner. But, as a 
 matter of fact, Darnell had been perfectly self-possessed 
 until his guilt was discovered; it was the exposure that 
 filled him with shame and confusion, not the actual dis- 
 honesty. 
 
 " I don't know how to thank you enough, sir, for your 
 leniency," he said, when he had written, in as few words 
 as possible, the statement of the facts. 
 
 " Well, just let the affair be a lesson to you," said Roy. 
 "There's a great deal said about drunkenness being the 
 national sin, but I believe it is betting that is at the root 
 of half the evils of the day. Fortunately, things are now 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 381 
 
 set straight as far as may be, yet remember that you have 
 wronged and perhaps irrevocably injured a perfectly 
 innocent man." 
 
 " I bitterly regret it, sir ; I do, indeed," said Darnell. 
 
 " I hope you do," said Roy; " I am sure you ought to." 
 
 And while Darnell still reiterated thanks, and apologies, 
 and abject regrets, Roy stalked out of the shop and made 
 his way back to the station. 
 
 " To think that I believed in that cur, and doubted 
 Falck ! " he said to himself with disgust. " And yet, could 
 anyone have seemed more respectable than Darnell ? more 
 thoroughly trustworthy ? And how could I disbelieve the 
 evidence that was so dead against Frithiof ? Sigrid and 
 Cecil trusted him, and I ought to have done so too, I sup- 
 pose ; but women seem to me to have a faculty for that 
 sort of thing which we are quite without." 
 
 Then, after a time, he remembered that the last barrier 
 that parted him from Sigrid was broken down ; and it was 
 just as well that he had the railway carriage to himself, for 
 he began to sing so jubilantly that the people in the next 
 compartment took him for a school-boy returning for his 
 Christmas holidays. 
 
 It had been arranged that if he could catch the express 
 from Plymouth he should meet his father at the shop, and 
 arriving at Paddington at half-past six he sprang into a 
 hansom and drove as quickly as possible to Regent Street. 
 
 Frithiof just glanced at him inquiringly as he passed 
 through the shop, then, reassured by the expression of his 
 face, turned once more to the fidgety and impatient sing- 
 ing-master who, for the last quarter of an hour, had been 
 keeping him hard at work in hunting up every conceivable 
 song that was difficult to find, and which, when found, was 
 sure to prove unsatisfactory. 
 
 He wondered much what had passed at Plymouth, and 
 when at last he had got rid of his customer, Roy returned 
 to the shop with such evident excitement and triumph in 
 his manner that old Foster thought he must be taking leave 
 of his senses. 
 
 " My father wants to speak to you, Frithiof," he said. 
 
 And Frithiof followed him into the little inner room 
 which had been the scene of such disagreeable interviews 
 in the past. A strange, dreamlike feeling came over him 
 as he recalled the wretched summer day when the detective 
 
382 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 had searched him, and in horrible, bewildered misery he 
 had seen the five-pound note, lying on that same leather- 
 covered table, an inexplicable mystery and a damning 
 evidence against him. 
 
 But visions of the past faded as Mr. Boniface grasped 
 his hand. " How can I ever apologise enough to you, 
 Frithiof ! " he said. " Roy has brought back a full confes- 
 sion from Darnell, and the mystery is entirely cleared up. 
 You must forgive me for the explanation of the affair that 
 I was content with last summer I can't tell you how I 
 regret all that you have had to suffer." 
 
 " Here is Darnell's letter," said Roy, handing it to him. 
 
 And Frithiof read it eagerlv. and asked the details of his 
 friend's visit to Plymouth. 
 
 " Will this satisfy Mr. Horner, do you think ? " he said, 
 when Roy had told him all about his interview with Dar- 
 nell. 
 
 " It cannot fail to convince everyone," said Mr. Boniface. 
 " It is proof positive that you are free from all blame, and 
 that we owe you every possible apology and reparation." 
 
 " You think that Mr. Horner will be content, and will 
 really sign the fresh deed of partnership ? " said Frithiof. 
 
 " He will be forced to see that your honour is entirely 
 vindicated," said Mr. Boniface. " But I shall not renew 
 the offer of partnership to him. He has behaved very ill 
 to you, he has been insolent to me, and I am glad that, as 
 far as business goes, our connection is at an end. All that 
 is quite settled. And now we have a proposal to make to 
 you. We want you, if nothing better has turned up, to 
 accept a junior partnership in our firm." 
 
 Frithiof was so staggered by the unexpectedness of this 
 offer that for a moment or two he could not say a word. 
 
 " You are very good,'" he said at length. " Far, far, too 
 good and kind to me. But how can I let you do so much 
 for me how can I let you take as partner a man who has 
 no capital to bring into the business ? " 
 
 " My dear boy, money is not the only thing wanted in 
 business," said Mr. Boniface, laying his hand on Frithiof s 
 shoulder. " If you bring no capital with you, you bring 
 good abilities, a great capacity for hard work, and a high 
 sense of honour ; you will bring, too, what I value very much 
 a keen sympathy with those employed by you, and a real 
 knowledge of their position and its difficulties." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 383 
 
 "I dare not refuse your offer," said Frithiof. "I can't 
 do anything but gratefully accept it, but I have done noth- 
 ing to deserve such kindness from you." 
 
 " It will be a comfort to me," said Mr. Boniface, " to feel 
 that Roy has some one with whom he can work comfort- 
 ably. I am growing old, and shall not be sorry to do a 
 little less, and to put some of my burden on to younger 
 shoulders." 
 
 And then, after entering a little more into detail as to 
 the proposed plan, the three parted, and Frithiof hurried 
 home, eager to tell Sigrid and Swanhild of the great change 
 that had come over their affairs. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 CHEERFULNESS reigned once more in the model lodgings. 
 As Frithiof opened the door of the parlour he heard such 
 talking and laughter as there had not been for some time 
 past, despite Sigrid's laudable endeavours. Swanhild came 
 dancing to meet him. 
 
 " Look ! look ! " she cried, " we have got the very dearest 
 little Christmas tree that ever was seen. And Madame Le- 
 chertier has promised to come to tea to-morrow afternoon, 
 and we are going out presently to buy the candles for it." 
 
 " Unheard-of extravagance," he said, looking at the little 
 fir tree upon which Sigrid was fastening the candle-holders. 
 
 " Only a shilling," she said apologetically. " And this 
 year we really couldn't do without one. But you have 
 brought some good news I can see it in your face. Oh, 
 tell me, Frithiof tell me quickly just what happened." 
 
 ** Well, Darnell has made a full confession for one thing," 
 he replied. " So the last vestige of the cloud has dis- 
 appeared. You can't think how nice the other men were 
 when they heard about it. Old Foster gave me such a 
 hand-shake that my arm aches still." 
 
 " And Mr. Boniface ? " 
 
 " You can fancy just what he would be as far as kind- 
 ness and all that goes. But you will never guess what he 
 has done. How would you like to count our savings 
 towards the debt-fund by hundreds instead of by units ? " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " she cried. 
 
384 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " I mean that he has offered me the junior partnership," 
 said Frithiof, watching her face with keen delight, and 
 rewarded for all he had been through by her rapture of 
 happiness and her glad surprise. 
 
 As for Swanhild, in the reaction after the long strain of 
 secret anxiety which had tried her so much all the autumn, 
 she was like a wild thing ; she laughed and sang, danced 
 and chattered, and would certainly never have eaten any 
 supper had she not set her heart on going out to buy 
 Christmas presents at a certain shop in Buckingham Palace 
 Road, which she was sure would still be open. 
 
 " For it is just the sort of shop for people like us," she 
 exclaimed, " people who are busy all day and can only do 
 their shopping in the evening." 
 
 So presently they locked up the rooms and all three went 
 out together on the merriest shopping expedition that ever 
 was known. There was a feeling of yule tide in the very 
 air, and the contentment and relief in their own hearts 
 seemed to be reflected on every one with whom they came 
 in contact. The shops seemed more enticing than usual, 
 the presents more fascinating, the servers more obliging 
 and ready to enter into the spirit of the thing. Swanhild, 
 with five shillings of her own earning to lay out on Christ- 
 mas gifts, was in the seventh heaven of happiness ; Sigrid, 
 with her own secret now once more a joy and not a care, 
 moved like one in a happy dream ; while Frithiof, free 
 from the miserable cloud of suspicion, freed, moreover, by 
 all that he had lived through from the hopelessness of the 
 struggle, was the most perfectly happy of all. Sometimes 
 he forced himself to remember that it was through these 
 very streets that he had wandered in utter misery when he 
 first came to London ; and recollecting from what depths 
 Sigrid had saved him, he thought of her with a new and 
 strange reverence there was nothing he would not have 
 done for her. 
 
 His reflections were interrupted by Swanhild's voice. 
 
 "We will have every one from Rowan Tree House, 
 won't we ? " she said. 
 
 " And Herr Sivertsen," added Sigrid. " He must cer- 
 tainly come, because he is all alone." 
 
 " And whatever happens, we must have old Miss Char- 
 lotte," said Frithiof; "but it strikes me we shall have to 
 ask people to bring their own mugs, like children at a 
 school-treat." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 385 
 
 But Sigrid scouted this suggestion, and declared that 
 the blue and white china would just go round, while, as to 
 chairs, they could borrow two or three from the neigh- 
 bours. 
 
 Then came the return home, and the dressing of the 
 tree, amid much fun and laughter, and the writing of the 
 invitations, which must be posted that night. In all Lon- 
 don there could not have been found a merrier household. 
 All the past cares were forgotten ; even the sorrows which 
 could not be healed had lost their sting, and the Christmas 
 promised to be indeed full of peace and good-will. 
 
 How ten people to say nothing of Lance and Gwen 
 managed to stow themselves away in the little parlour was 
 a mystery to Frithiof. But Sigrid was a person of 
 resources, and while he was out the next day she made all 
 sorts of cunning arrangements, decorated the room with 
 ivy and holly, and so disposed the furniture that there was 
 a place for every one. 
 
 At half-past four the guests began to arrive. First, Mrs. 
 Boniface and Cecil with the children, who helped to light 
 the tree ; then Madame Lechertier, laden with boxes of the 
 most delicious bonbons for every one of the party, and 
 soon after there came an abrupt knock, which they felt 
 sure could only have been given by Herr Sivertsen. Swan- 
 hild ran to open the door, and to take his hat and coat 
 from him. Her eager welcome seemed to please the old 
 man, for his great massive forehead was unusually free from 
 wrinkles as he entered and shook hands with Sigrid, and 
 he bowed and smiled quite graciously as she introduced 
 him to the other guests. Then he walked round the 
 Christmas tree with an air of satisfaction, and even stooped 
 forward and smelled it. 
 
 " So," he said contentedly, " you keep up the old 
 customs, I see ! I'm glad of it I'm glad of it. It's years 
 since I saw a properly dressed tree. And the smell ofV. ! 
 Great heavens ! it makes me feel like a boy again ! I'm 
 glad you don't follow with the multitude, but keep to the 
 good old Yule ceremonies." 
 
 In the meantime Cecil was pouring out tea and coffee 
 in the kitchen, where, for greater convenience, the table 
 had been placed. 
 
 " Sigrid has allowed me to be lady-help and not visitor," 
 she said laughingly to Frithiof. " I told her she m(.;:u be 
 
 13 
 
386 A HARDY NORSEMAN*. 
 
 in the other room to talk to every one after the English 
 fashion, for you and Swanhild will be too busy fetching and 
 carrying." 
 
 " I am glad to have a chance of saying one word alone 
 to you," said Frithiof. " Are you sure that Mrs. Boniface 
 does not object to this new plan as to the partnership ? " 
 
 "Why, she is delighted about it," said Cecil. "And 
 she will tell you so when she has you to herself. I am so 
 glad so very glad that your trouble is over at last, and 
 everything cleared up." 
 
 " I can hardly believe it yet," said Frithiof. " I'm afraid 
 ofwaking and finding that all this is a dream. Yet it feels 
 real while I talk to you, for you were the only outsider who 
 believed in me and cheered me up last summer. I shall 
 never forget your trust in me." 
 
 Her eyes sank beneath his frank look of gratitude. She 
 was horribly afraid lest she should betray herself, and to 
 hide the burning color which surged up into her face, she 
 turned away and busied herself with the teapot, which did 
 not at all want refilling. 
 
 " You have forgotten Signor Donati," she said, recov- 
 ering her self-possession. 
 
 " Ah ! I must write to him," said Frithiof. " I more and 
 more wonder how he could possibly have had such insight 
 into the truth. Here come Mr. Boniface and Roy." 
 
 He turned to the parlor, while Cecil from the background 
 watched the greetings with some curiosity. In honour of 
 Herr Sivertsen, and to please Frithiof, both Sigrid and 
 Swanhild wore their Hardanger peasant dress, and Cecil 
 thought she had never seen Sigrid look prettier than now, 
 as she shook hands with Roy, welcoming him with all the 
 charm of manner, with all the vivacity which was char- 
 acteristic of her. 
 
 " Tea for Mr. Boniface, and coffee for Roy," announced 
 Swanhild dancing in. " Lance, you can hand the crumpets, 
 and mind you don't drop them all." 
 
 She pioneered him safely through the little crowd, and 
 Frithiof returned to Cecil. They had a comfortable little 
 tete-a-tete over the tea-table. 
 
 " I dare to think now," he said, " of the actual amount 
 of the debts, for at last there is a certainty that in time I 
 can ;:ay them." 
 
 " How g.ad I am ! " said Cecil. " It will be a great 
 relief lo you." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 387 
 
 "Yes, it will be like getting rid of a haunting demon," 
 said Frithiof. " And to see a real prospect of being free 
 once more is enough to make this the happiest Christmas 
 I have ever known to say nothing of getting rid of the 
 other cloud. I sometimes wonder what would have become 
 of me if I had never met you and your brother." 
 
 " If you had never sheltered us from the rain in your 
 house," she said smiling. 
 
 " It is in some ways dreadful to see how much depends 
 on quite a small thing," said Frithiof thoughtfully. 
 
 And perhaps, could he have seen into Cecil's heart, he 
 would have been more than ever impressed with this idea. 
 
 Before long they rejoined the rest of the party, and then, 
 all standing round the tree, they sang Gladeli% Jul, and 
 an English carol, after which the presents were distributed, 
 amid much laughter and quite a babel of talk. The whole 
 entertainment had been given for a few shillings, but it was 
 probably one of the most successful parties of the season, 
 for all seemed full of real enjoyment, and all were ready to 
 echo Lance's outspoken verdict, that Christmas trees in 
 model lodgings were much nicer than anywhere else. 
 
 " But it isn't fair that the model lodgings should have 
 both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day," said Mrs. 
 Boniface, " so you will come down to Rowan Tree House 
 this evening, and stay with us for a few days, will you 
 not?" 
 
 There was no resisting the general entreaty, and indeed, 
 now that all was cleared up, Frithiof looked forward very 
 much to staying once more in the household which had 
 grown so homelike to him. It was arranged that they 
 should go down to Brixton later in the evening ; and when 
 their guests had left, Sigrid began, a little sadly, to make 
 the necessary preparations. She was eager to go, and yet 
 something told her that never again, under the same cir- 
 cumstances, would the little household be under her care. 
 
 " I will take in the tree to the Hallinelds," she said ; 
 " the children will be pleased with it. And, Frithiof, don't 
 you think that before we leave you had better just call and 
 thank Mr. Osmond for his help, and for having been so 
 kind to Swanhild ? He will like to know that all is cleared 
 up." 
 
 Frit^of agreed, and set off for Guilford Square. The 
 night was frosty, and the stars shone out bright and clear. 
 
388 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 He walked briskly through the streets, not exactly liking 
 the prospect of his interview with the clergyman, yet 
 anxious to get it over, and really grateful for what had 
 been done by him. 
 
 Charles Osmond received him so kindly that his pre- 
 judices vanished at once, and he told him just how the 
 five-pound note had affected his life, and how all had been 
 satisfactorily explained. 
 
 " Such coincidences are very strange," said Charles 
 Osmond, "but it is not the first time that I have come 
 across something of the sort. Indeed, I know of a case 
 very similar to yours." 
 
 " If Lady Romiaux is still with you," said Frithiof, 
 flushing a little, " perhaps you will tell her that all- is set 
 straight, and thank her for having released Swanhild from 
 her promise." 
 
 " She is still here," said Charles Osmond, " and I will 
 certainly tell her. I think when she gave the money to 
 your sister she yielded to a kind impulse, not at all realising 
 how foolish and useless such a plan was. After all, though 
 she has lived through so much she is still in some ways a 
 mere child." 
 
 He looked at the Norwegian, wondering what lay beneath 
 that handsome face, with its Grecian outline and northern 
 colouring. 
 
 As if in answer to the thought, Frithiof raised his frank 
 blue eyes, and met the searching gaze of his companion. 
 
 " Will not Lord Romiaux remember her youth ? " he said. 
 " Do you not think there is at least a hope that he will 
 forgive her ? " ^ 
 
 Then Charles Osmond felt a strange gladness at his 
 heart, and over his face there came a look of indescribable 
 content. For the words reveakd to him the noble nature 
 of the man before him ; he knew that not one in a thousand 
 would have so spoken under the circumstances. The 
 interest he had felt in this man, whose story had accident- 
 ally become known to him, changed to actual love. 
 
 " I am not without a strong hope that those two may be 
 atoned," he replied. " But as yet I do not know enough 
 of Lord Romiaux to feel sure. It would probably involve 
 the sacrifice of his public life. I do not know whether his 
 love is equal to such a sacrifice, or whether he has strength 
 and courage enough to offend the world, or whether he in 
 the least understands the law of forgiveness." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 389 
 
 " If you could only get to know him," said Frithiof. 
 
 " I quite hope to do so, and that before long," said 
 Charles Osmond. " I think I can get at him through a 
 mutual friend the member for Grcyshot but we must 
 not be in too great a hurry. Depend upon it, the right time 
 will come if we are only ready and waiting. Do you know 
 the old Scotch proverb, 'Where twa are seeking they're 
 sure to find ? ' There is a deep truth beneath those words, 
 a whole parable, it seems to me." 
 
 "I must not keep you," said Frithiof, rising. "But I 
 couldn't rest till I had thanked you for your help, and let 
 you know what had happened." 
 
 " The affair has made us something more than mere 
 acquaintances," said Charles Osmond. " I hope we 'may 
 learn to know each other well in the future. A happy 
 Christinas to you." 
 
 He had opened the study door, they were in the passage 
 outside, and he grasped the Norwegian's hand. At that 
 moment it happened that Blanche passed from the dining- 
 room to the staircase ; she just glanced round to see who 
 Charles Osmond was addressing so heartily, and, perceiv- 
 ing Frithiof, coloured painfully and caught at the banisters 
 for support. 
 
 Having realised what was the Norseman's character, 
 Charles Osmond did not regret the meeting ; he stood by 
 in silence, glancing first at his companion's startled face, 
 then at Blanche's attitude of downcast confusion. 
 
 As for Frithiof, in that moment he realised that his early 
 passion was indeed dead. Its fierce fire had utterly burned 
 out ; the weary pain was over, the terrible battle which he 
 had fought so long was at an end, all that was now left was 
 a chivalrous regard for the woman who had made him 
 suffer so fearfully, a selfless desire for her future safety. 
 
 He strode toward her with outstretched hand. It was 
 the first time he had actually touched her since they 
 had parted long ago on the steamer at Balholm, but he did 
 not think of that j the past which had lingered with him so 
 long and with such cruel clearness seemed now to have 
 withered like the raiment of a viking whose buried ship is 
 suddenly exposed to the air. 
 
 " I have just been telling Mr. Osmond," he said, " that, 
 thanks to your note to Swanhild, a curious mystery has 
 been explained ; he will tell you the details." 
 
390 A IlAJtDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " And you forgive me ? " faltered Blanche. 
 
 " Yes, with all my heart," he said. 
 
 For a moment her sorrowful eyes looked into his, she 
 knew then that he had entirely freed himself from his old 
 devotion to her, for they met her gaze frankly, fearlessly, 
 and in their blue depths there was nothing but kindly for- 
 giveness. 
 
 " Thank you," she said, once more taking his hand. 
 " Good-bye." 
 
 " Good-bye," he replied. 
 
 She turned away and went up-stairs without another 
 word. And thus, on this Christmas eve, the two whose 
 lives had been so strangely woven together, parted, never 
 to meet again till the clearer light of some other world had 
 revealed to them the full meaning of their early love. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 FOR a time Frithiof was rather silent and quiet, but Sigrid 
 and Swanhild were in high spirits as they went down to 
 Rowan Tree House, arriving just in time for supper. The 
 atmosphere of happiness, however, is always infectious, 
 and he soon threw off his taciturnity, and dragging himself 
 away from his own engrossing thoughts, forgot the shadows 
 of life in the pure brightness of this home which had been 
 so much to him ever since he first set foot in it. 
 
 With Swanhild for an excuse they played all sorts of 
 games ; but when at last she had been sent off to bed, the 
 fun and laughter quieted down. Mr. and Mrs. Boniface 
 played their nightly game of backgammon ; Roy and Sigrid 
 had a long tete-a-tete in the little inner drawing-room ; 
 Cecil sat down at the piano and began to play Mendels- 
 sohn's Christmas pieces ; and Frithiof threw himself back 
 in the great arm-chair close by her, listening half dreamily 
 and with a restful sense of pause in his life that he had 
 never before known. He desired nothing, he revelled in 
 the sense of freedom from the love which for so long had 
 been a misery to him ; the very calm was bliss. 
 
 " That is beautiful," he said, when the music ceased. 
 " After all there is no one like Mendelssohn, he is so 
 human," 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 391 
 
 " You look like one of the lotus-eaters," said Cecil glanc- 
 ing at him. 
 
 " It is precisely what I feel like," he said with a smile. 
 " Perhaps it is because you have been giving me 
 
 1 Music that gentlier on the spirit lies 
 Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes.' 
 
 I remember so well how you read that to me after I had 
 been ill." 
 
 She took a little thin red volume from the bookshelves 
 beside her and turned over the leaves. He bent forward 
 to look over her, and together they read the first part of 
 the poem. 
 
 " It is Norway," he said. " What could better describe 
 it?" 
 
 " A land of streams ! Some like a downward smoke, 
 
 Slow dripping veils of thinnest lawn did go ; 
 And some through wavering lights and shadows broke, 
 Rolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below. 
 
 . . . Far off, three mountain-tops, 
 
 Three silent pinnacles of aged snow, 
 Stood sunset-flushed ; and, dewed with showery drops, 
 Up-clomb the shadowy pine above the woven copse." 
 
 " You will not be a true lotus-eater till you are there 
 once more," said Cecil, glancing at him. For his dreamy 
 content had gone, and a wistfulness which she quite under- 
 stood had taken its place. " Don't you think, now that all 
 is so different, you might perhaps go there next summer ? " 
 she added. 
 
 " No," he replied, " you must not tempt me. I will not 
 go back till I am a free man and can look every one in the 
 face. The prospect of being free so much sooner than I had 
 expected ought to be enough to satisfy me. Suppose we 
 build castles in the air ; that is surely the right thing to do 
 on Christmas eve. When at last these debts are cleared, 
 let us all go to Norway together. I know Mr. Boniface 
 would be enchanted, with it, and you, you did not see 
 nearly all that you should have seen. You must see the 
 Romsdal and the Geiranger, and we must show you Oldo- 
 ren, where we so often spent the summer holiday." 
 
 " How delightful it would be ! " said Cecil, 
 
 *' Don't say ' would/ say ' will,' " he replied. " I shall 
 
392 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 not thoroughly enjoy it unless we all go together, a huge 
 party." 
 
 " I think we should be rather in the way," sjie said. 
 " You would have so many old friends out there, and 
 would want to get rid of us. Don't you remember the old 
 lady who was so outspoken at Balholm when we tried to 
 be friendly and not to let her feel lonely and out of it ? " 
 
 Frithiof laughed at the recollection. 
 
 " Yes," he said ; " she liked to be alone, and preferred 
 to walk on quickly and keep ' out of the ruck,' as she ex- 
 pressed it. We were ' the ruck.' And how we laughed 
 at her opinion of us." 
 
 " Well, of course you wouldn't exactly put it in that way, 
 but all the same, I think you would want to be alone when 
 you go back." 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " No, you are quite mistaken. Now, promise that if 
 Mr. Boniface agrees, you will all come too." 
 
 " Very well," she said, smiling, " I promise.' 
 
 " Where are they going to ? " he exclaimed, glancing 
 into the inner room where Roy was wrapping a thick sofa 
 blanket about Sigrid's shoulders. 
 
 " Out into the garden to hear the bells, I dare say," she 
 replied. " We generally go out if it is fine." 
 
 " Let us come too," he said ; and they left the bright 
 room and went out into the dusky veranda, pacing silently 
 to and fro, absorbed in their own thoughts while the 
 Christmas bells rang 
 
 t( Peace and goodwill, goodwill and peace, 
 Peace and goodwill to all mankind." 
 
 But the other two, down in a sheltered path at the end 
 of the garden, were not silent, nor did they listen very 
 much to the bells. 
 
 " Sigrid," said Roy, u have you forgotten that you made 
 me a promise last June ? " 
 
 " No," she said, her voice trembling a little, " I have not 
 forgotten." 
 
 " You promised that when Frithiof was cleared I might 
 ask you for your answer." 
 
 She raised her face to his in the dim starlight. 
 
 " Yes, I did promise." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 393 
 
 " And the answer is ? " 
 
 " I love you " 
 
 The soft Norse words were spoken hardly above her 
 breath, yet Roy knew that they would ring in his heart all 
 his life long. 
 
 " My darling ! " he said, taking her in his arms. " Oh, 
 if you knew what the waiting has been to me ! But it was 
 my own fault all my own fault. I ought to have trusted 
 your instinct before my own reason." 
 
 " No, no," she said, clinging to him ; " I think I was 
 hard and bitter that day ; you must forgive me, for I was 
 so very unhappy. Don't let us speak of it any more. I 
 hate to think of it even." 
 
 " And nothing can ever come between us again," he said, 
 still keeping his arm round her as they walked on. 
 
 " No ; never again," she repeated ; " never again. I 
 know I am too proud and independent, and I suppose it is 
 to crush down my pride that I have to come to you like 
 this, robbed of position and money, and " 
 
 " How can you speak of such things," he said, reproach- 
 fully. " You know they are nothing to me you know 
 that I can never feel worthy of you." 
 
 " Such things do seem very little when one really loves," 
 she said, gently. " I have thought it over, and it seems to 
 me like this the proof of your love to me is that you take 
 me poor, an exile, more or less burdened with the past ; 
 the proof of my love to you is that I kill my pride and 
 yield. It would have seemed impossible to me once ; but 
 now Oh, Roy ! how I love you how I love you ! " 
 
 "And about Frithiof ? " said Roy, presently. " You 
 will explain all to him, and make him understand that I 
 would not for the world break up his home." 
 
 11 Yes," she replied, " I will tell him ; but I think not to- 
 night. Just till to-morrow let it be only for ourselves. 
 Hark ! the clocks are striking twelve ! Let us go in and 
 wish the others a happy Christmas." 
 
 But Roy kept the first of the good wishes for himself; 
 then, at length releasing her, walked beside her toward the 
 house, happy beyond all power of expression. 
 
 And now once more outer things began to appeal to him ; 
 he became conscious of the Christmas bells ringing gaily 
 in the stillness of the night, of the stars shining down 
 
394 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 gloriously through the clear, frosty air, of the cheerful 
 glimpse of home to be seen through the uncurtained 
 window of the drawing-room. 
 
 Cecil and Frithiof had left the veranda and returned to 
 the piano ; they were singing a carol, the German air of 
 which was well known in Norway. Sigrid did not know 
 the English words ; but she listened to them now intently, 
 and they helped to reconcile her to the one thorn in her 
 perfect happiness the thought that these other two were 
 shut out from the bliss which she enjoyed. 
 
 Quietly she stole into the room and stood watching them 
 as they sang the quaint old hymn : 
 
 " Good Christian men rejoice, 
 In heart and soul and voice ; 
 Now ye hear of endless bliss ; 
 
 Joy ! joy ! 
 
 Jesus Christ was born for this ! 
 He hath oped the heavenly door, 
 And man is blessed evermore. 
 Christ was born for this." 
 
 Cecil, glancing up at her when the carol was ended, read 
 her secret in her happy, glowing face. She rose from the 
 piano. 
 
 " A happy Christmas to you," she said, kissing her on 
 both cheeks. 
 
 " We have been out in the garden, right down in the 
 lower path, and you can't think how lovely the bells 
 sound," said Sigrid. 
 
 Then, with a fresh stab of pain at her heart, she thought 
 of Frithiof 's spoiled life ; she looked wistfully across at 
 him, conscious that her love for Roy had only deepened 
 her love for those belonging to her. 
 
 Was he never to know anything more satisfying than the 
 peace of being freed from the heavy load of suspicion ? 
 Was he only to know the pain of love? All her first 
 desire to keep her secret to herself died away as she 
 looked at him, and in another minute her hand was on his 
 arm. 
 
 " Dear old boy," she said to him in Norse, " won't you 
 come out into the garden with me for a few minutes ? " 
 
 So they went out together into the starlight, and wandered 
 down to the sheltered path where she and Roy had paced 
 to and fro so long. 
 
A P1ARDY NORSEMAN. 395 
 
 " What a happy Christmas it has been for us all ! " she 
 said thoughtfully. 
 
 " Very; and how little we expected it," said Frithiof. 
 
 " Do you think," she began falteringly, ." do you think, 
 Frithiof, it would make you less happy if I told you of a 
 new happiness that has come to me ? " 
 
 Her tone as much as the actual words suddenly enlight- 
 ened him. 
 
 " Whatever makes for your happiness makes for mine," 
 he said, trying to read her face. 
 
 "Are you sure of that? " she said, the tears rushing to 
 her eyes. " Oh, if I could quite believe you, Frithiof, how 
 happy I should be ! " 
 
 " Why should you doubt me ? " he asked. " Come, I 
 have guessed your secret, you are going to tell me that " 
 
 " That Roy will some day be your brother as well as 
 your friend," she said, finishing his sentence for him. 
 
 He caught her hand in his and held it fast. 
 
 " I wish you joy, Sigrid, with all my heart. This puts 
 the finishing touch to our Christmas happiness." 
 
 "And Roy has been making such plans," said Sigrid, 
 brushing away her tears ; " he says that just over the wall 
 there is a charming little house back to back, you know, 
 with this one, and it will just hold us all, for of course he 
 will never allow us to be separated. He told me that long 
 ago, when he first asked me." 
 
 " Long ago ? " said Frithiof: " why, what do you mean, 
 Sigrid ? I thought it was only to-night." 
 
 " It was only to-night that I gave him his answer," said 
 Sigrid. " It was when we were at the sea last June that 
 he first spoke to me, and then afterward perhaps I was 
 wrong, but I would not hear anything more about it till 
 your cloud had passed away. I knew some day that your 
 name must be cleared, and I was angry with Roy for not 
 believing in you. I dare say I was wrong to expect it, but 
 somehow I did expect it, and it disappointed me so dread- 
 fully. He says himself now that he ought to have 
 trusted " 
 
 " It was a wonder that you didn't make him hate me 
 forever," said Frithiof. " Why did you not tell me about 
 it before ? " 
 
 " How could I ? " she said. " It would only have made 
 you more unhappy. It was far better to wait." 
 
396 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 "But what a terrible autumn for you ! " exclaimed Fri- 
 thiof. " And to think that all this should have sprung from 
 that wretched five-pound note ! Our stories have been 
 curiously woven together, Sigrid." 
 
 As she thought of the contrast between the two stories 
 her tears broke forth afresh ; she walked on silently hoping 
 that he would not notice them, but a drop fell right on to 
 his wrist; he stopped suddenly, took her face between his 
 hands and looked full into her eyes. 
 
 " You dear little goose," he said, " what makes you 
 cry ? Was it because I said our stories had been woven 
 together ? " 
 
 " It's because I wish they could have been alike," she 
 sobbed. 
 
 " But it wasn't to be," he said, quietly. " It is an odd 
 thing to say to you to-night, when your new life is begin- 
 ning, but to-night I also am happy, because now at last my 
 struggle is over now at last the fire is burned out. I don't 
 want anything but just the peace of being free to the end 
 of my life. Believe me, I am content." 
 
 Her throat seemed to have closed up, she could not say 
 a word just because she felt for him so intensely. She gave 
 him a little mute caress, and once more they paced along 
 the garden path. But her whole soul revolted against this 
 notion of content. She understood it as little as the soldier 
 marching to his first battle understands the calm indiffer- 
 ence of the comrade who lies in hospital. Surely Frithiof 
 was to have something better in his life than this miserable 
 parody of love ? This passion, which had been almost all 
 pain, could surely not be the only glimpse vouchsafed him 
 of the bliss which had transfigured the whole world for 
 her ? There came back to her the thought of the old study 
 at Bergen, and she seemed to hear her father's voice say- 
 ing 
 
 " I should like an early marriage for Frithiof, but I will 
 not say too much about you, Sigrid, for I don't know how 
 I should ever spare you." 
 
 And she sighed as she remembered how his plans had 
 been crossed and his business ruined, and his heart broken 
 how both for him and for Frithiof failure had been 
 decreed. 
 
 Yet the Christmas bells rang on in this world of strangely 
 mingled joy and sorrow, and they brought her much the 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN". 397 
 
 same message that had been brought to her by the silence 
 on Hjerkinsho 
 
 " There is a better plan which can't go wrong," she said 
 to herself. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 " I HAVE some news for you," said Mr. Homer to his wife, 
 a few days after this, as one evening he entered the draw- 
 ing-room. The huge gold clock with the little white face 
 pointed to the hour of eight, the golden pigs still climbed 
 the golden hill, the golden swineherd still leaned medita- 
 tively on his golden staff. Mrs. Horner, arrayed in peacock- 
 blue satin, glanced from her husband to the clock and back 
 again to her husband. 
 
 " News ? " she said in a distinctly discouraging tone. 
 " Is it that which makes you so late ? However, it's of no 
 consequence to me if the dinner is spoiled, quite the con- 
 trary, I am not particular. But I beg you won't grumble 
 if the meat is done to a cinder." 
 
 " Never mind the dinner," replied Mr. Horner captious- 
 ly. " I have other things to think of than overdone joints. 
 That fool Boniface has taken me at my word, and actually 
 doesn't intend to renew the partnership." 
 
 " What ! " cried his wife, " not now that all this affair is 
 cleared up, and you have apologised so handsomely to 
 young Falck ? " 
 
 " No ; it's perfectly disgraceful," said James Horner, 
 looking like an angry turkey-cock as he paced to and fro. 
 
 " I shook hands with Falck and told him I was sorry to 
 have misjudged him, and even owned to Boniface that I 
 had spoken hastily, but, would you believe it, he won't 
 reconsider the matter. He not only gives me the sack, 
 but he takes in my place that scheming Norwegian." 
 
 " But the fellow has no capital," cried Mrs. Horner in 
 great agitation. " He is as poor as a rook ! He hasn't a 
 single penny to put in to the concern." 
 
 " Precisely. But Boniface is such a fool that he over- 
 looks that and does nothing but talk of his great business 
 capacities, his industry, his good address, and a lot of other 
 rubbish of that sort. Why without money a fellow is worth 
 nothing absolutely nothing " 
 
398 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " From the first I detested him," said Mrs. Homer. " I 
 knew that the Bonifaces were deceived in him. It's my 
 belief that although his character is clear as to this five- 
 pound-note business, yet he is really a mere adventurer. 
 Depend upon it he'll manage to get everything into his 
 own hands, and will be ousting Roy one of these days." 
 
 "Well, he's hardly likely to do that, for it seems the 
 sister has been keeping her eyes open and that idiot of a 
 Roy is going to marry her." 
 
 " To marry Sigrid Falck ? " exclaimed Mrs. Homer 
 starting to her feet. " Actually to bring into the family a girl 
 who plays at dancing-classes and parties a girl who sweeps 
 her own house and cooks her own dinner ! " 
 
 " I don't know that she is any the worse for doing that," 
 said James Homer. " It's not the girl herself that I ob- 
 ject to, for she's pretty and pleasant enough, but the con- 
 nection, the being related by marriage to that odious Falck, 
 who has treated me so insufferably, who looks down on me 
 and is as stand-offish as if he were an emperor." 
 
 " If there is one thing I do detest," said Mrs. Horner, 
 u it is pushing people a sure sign of vulgarity. But it's 
 partly Loveday's fault. If I had had to deal with the 
 Falcks they would have been taught their proper place, 
 and all this would not have happened." 
 
 At this moment dinner was announced. The overdone 
 meat did not improve Mr. Horner's temper, and when the 
 servants had left the room he broke out into fresh invec- 
 tives against the Bonifaces. 
 
 " When is the wedding to be ? " asked his wife. 
 
 " Some time in February, I believe. They are house- 
 furnishing already." 
 
 Mrs. Horner gave an ejaculation of annoyance. 
 
 " Well, the sooner we leave London the better," she 
 said. " I'm not going to be mixed up with all this ; we'll 
 avoid any open breach with the family of course, but for 
 goodness' sake do let the house and let us settle down else- 
 where. There's that house at Croydon I was very partial 
 to, and you could go up and down easy enough from 
 there." 
 
 " We'll think of it," said Mr. Horner, reflectively. 
 " And, by-the-by, we must, I suppose, get them some sort 
 of wedding present." 
 
 " By good luck," said Mrs. Horner, " I won a sofa- 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 399 
 
 cushion last week in a raffle at the bazaar foi the chapel 
 organ fund. It's quite good enough for them, I'm sure. 
 I did half think of sending it to the youngest Miss Smith, 
 who is to be married on New Year's Day, but they're such 
 rich people that I suppose I must send them something a 
 little more showy and expensive. This will do very well 
 for Sigrid Falck." 
 
 Luckily the opinion of outsiders did not at all mar the 
 happiness of the two lovers. They were charmed to hear 
 that the Homers were leaving London, and when in due 
 time the sofa-cushion arrived, surmounted by Mrs. Hor- 
 ner's card, Sigrid, who had been in the blessed condition 
 of expecting nothing, was able to write a charming little 
 note of thanks, which, by its straightforward simplicity, 
 made the donor blush with an uncomfortable sense of 
 guilt. 
 
 " And, after all," remarked Sigrid to Cecil, " we really 
 owe a great deal to Mrs. Homer, for if she had not asked 
 me to that children's fancy ball I should never have met 
 Madame Lechertier, and how could we ever have lived all 
 together if it had not been for that ? " 
 
 " In those days I think Mrs. Horner rather liked you, 
 but somehow you have offended her." 
 
 " Why of course it was by earning my living and setting 
 up in model lodgings ; I utterly shocked all her ideas of 
 propriety, and, when once you do that, good-bye to all hopes 
 of remaining in Mrs. Horner's good books. It would have 
 grieved me to displease any of your relations if you your- 
 selves cared for them, but the Homers well, I cannot 
 pretend to care the least about them." 
 
 The two girls were in the little sitting-room of the model 
 lodgings, putting the finishing touches to the white cash- 
 mere wedding-dress which Sigrid had cut out and made for 
 herself during the quiet days they had spent at Rowan 
 Tree House. Every one entered most heartily into all the 
 busy preparations, and Sigrid could not help thinking to 
 herself that the best proof that trouble had not spoiled or 
 soured the lives either of Cecil or Frithiof lay in their keen 
 enjoyment of other people's happiness. 
 
 The wedding was to be extremely quiet. Early in the 
 morning, when Cecil went to see if she could be of any 
 use, she found the bride-elect in her usual black dress and 
 her housekeeping apron of brown holland, busily packing 
 Frithiof s portmanteau. 
 
400 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " Oh, let me do it for you," she said. " The idea of 
 your toiling away to-day just as if you were not going to be 
 married ! " 
 
 Sigrid laughed merrily. 
 
 " Must brides sit and do nothing until the ceremony ? " 
 she asked. " If so, I am sorry for them ; I couldn't sit 
 still if I were to try. How glad I am to think Frithiof and 
 Swanhild will be at Rowan Tree House while we are away ! 
 I should never have had a moment's peace if I had left 
 them here, for Swanhild is, after all, only a child. It is so 
 good of Mrs. Boniface to have asked them." 
 
 " Since you are taking Roy away from us I think it is the 
 least you could do," said Cecil laughing. " It will be such 
 a help to have them this evening, for otherwise we should 
 all be feeling very flat, I know." 
 
 " And we shall be on our way to the Riviera," said 
 Sigrid, pausing for a few minutes in her busy preparations ; 
 a dreamy look came into her clear, practical eyes, and she 
 let her head rest against the side of the bed. 
 
 "Sometimes, do you know," she exclaimed, "I can't 
 believe this is all real. I think I am just imagining it all, 
 and that I shall wake up presently and find myself playing 
 the Myosotis waltz at the academy it was always such a 
 good tune to dream to." 
 
 " Wait," said Cecil ; " does this make it feel more real ? " 
 and hastily going into the outer room she returned bearing 
 the lovely wedding bouquet which Roy had sent. 
 
 " Lilies of the valley ! " exclaimed Sigrid. " Oh, how 
 exquisite ! And myrtle and eucharist lilies it is the most 
 beautiful bouquet I ever saw." 
 
 " Don't you think it is time you were dressing," said 
 Cecil. " Come, sit down and let me do your hair for you 
 while you enjoy your flowers." 
 
 "But Swanhild's packing I don't think it is quite 
 finished." 
 
 " Never mind, I will come back this afternoon with her 
 and finish everything, you must let us help you a little just 
 for once." 
 
 And then, as she brushed out the long, golden hair, she 
 thought how few brides showed Sigrid's wonderful unselfish- 
 ness and care for others, and somehow wished that Roy 
 could have seen her just as she was, in her working-day 
 apron, too full of household arrangements to spend much 
 time over her own toilet. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 401 
 
 Swanhild, already dressed in her white cashmere and 
 pretty white beaver hat, danced in and out of the room 
 fetching and carrying, and before long the bride, too, was 
 dressed, and with her long tulle veil over the dainty little 
 wreath of real orange blossom from Madame Lechertier's 
 greenhouse, and the home-made dress which fitted admir- 
 ably, she walked into the little sitting-room to show herself 
 to Frithiof. 
 
 " I shall hold up your train, Sigrid, in case the floor is 
 at all dusty," said Swanhild, much enjoying the excitement 
 of the first wedding in the family, and determined not to 
 think of the parting till it actually came. 
 
 Frithiof made an involuntary exclamation as she entered 
 the room. 
 
 "You look like Ingeborg," he said, "when she came 
 into the new temple of Balder." 
 
 " Followed by many a fair attendant maiden, 
 As shines the moon amid surrounding stars," 
 
 quoted Swanhild in Norse from the old saga, looking 
 roguishly up at her tall brother. 
 
 Sigrid laughed and turned to Cecil. 
 
 " She says that I am the moon and shine with a borrowed 
 light, and that you are the stars with light of your own. 
 By-the-by, where is my other little bridesmaid ? " 
 
 " Gwen is to meet us at the church," explained Cecil. 
 11 Do you know I think the carriage must be waiting, for I 
 see the eldest little Hallifield tearing across the court- 
 yard." 
 
 " Then I must say good-bye to every one," said Sigrid ; 
 and with one last look round the little home which had 
 grown so dear to them, she took Frithiof s arm and went 
 out into the long stone passage, where a group of the 
 neighbours stood waiting to see the last of her, and to give 
 her their hearty good wishes. She had a word and a smile 
 for every one, and they all followed her down the stairs and 
 across the court yard, and stood waving their hands as the 
 carriage drove off. 
 
 That chapter of her life was ended, and the busy hive of 
 workers would no longer count her as queen-bee of the 
 establishment. The cares and troubles and wearing econo- 
 mies were things of the past, but she would take with her 
 
402 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 and keep forever many happy memories ; and many friend- 
 ships would still last and give her an excuse for visiting 
 afterward the scene of her first home in London. 
 
 She was quite silent as they drove through the busy 
 streets, her eyes had again that sweet dreamy look in 
 them that Cecil had noticed earlier in the morning ; she 
 did not seem to see outward things, until after a while her 
 eyes met Frithiof's and then her face, which had been 
 rather grave, broke into sudden brightness, and she said 
 a few words to him in Norse, which he replied to with a 
 look so full of loving pride and contentment that it car- 
 ried the sunshine straight into Cecil's heart. 
 
 " This marriage is a capital thing for him," she thought 
 to herself. " He will be happy in her happiness." 
 
 By this time they had reached the church ; Lance, in 
 the dress he had worn at Mrs. Homer's fancy ball, stcod 
 ready to hold the bride's train, and Gwen came running 
 up eager to take her place in the little procession. 
 
 A few spectators had dropped in, but the church was 
 very quiet, and up in the chancel there were only Roy and 
 his best man, Madame Lechertier, old Herr Sivertsen, and 
 the father and mother of the bridegroom. Charles Os- 
 mond read the service, and his pretty daughter-in-law had 
 begged leave to play the organ, for she had taken a fancy 
 not only to little Swanhild, but to the whole family, when, 
 at her father-in-law's request, she had called upon them. 
 After the wedding was over and the procession had once 
 more passed down the aisle she still went on playing, hav- 
 ing a love of finishing in her nature. Charles Osmond 
 came out of the vestry and stood beside her. 
 
 " I am glad you played for them," he said when the last 
 chord had been struck. " It was not at all the sort of 
 wedding to be without music." 
 
 " It was one of the nicest weddings I was ever at," she 
 said ; " and as to your Norseman he is all you said, and 
 more. Do you know, there is a strong look about him 
 which somehow made me think of my father. Oh ! I do 
 hope he will be able to pay off the debts." 
 
 "There is only one thing which could hinder him," said 
 Charles Osmond. 
 
 " What is that? " asked Erica looking up quickly. 
 
 " Death," he replied quietly. 
 
 She made no answer, but the word did not jar upon her, 
 
A &AkDY tfORSEMAN. 403 
 
 for she was one of those who have learned that death is 
 indeed the Gate of Life. 
 
 Silently she pushed in the stops and locked the organ. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 ONE spring evening, rather more than two years after the 
 wedding, Sigrid was working away in the little back gar- 
 den, to which, now that her household duties were light, 
 she devoted a good deal of her time. It joined the garden 
 of Rowan Tree House, and, for greater convenience, an 
 opening had been made in the hedge, and a little green gate 
 put up. Upon this gate leaned Cecil, chatting comfort- 
 ably, her tennis racquet under her arm, and with a pleas- 
 ant consciousness that the work of the day was over, and 
 that Roy and Frithiof might soon be expected for the 
 nightly game which, during the season, they seldom cared 
 to miss. 
 
 " They are late this evening," said Sigrid. '* I wonder 
 whether Herr Sivertsen has caught Frithiof. I hope not, 
 for the tennis does him so much good." 
 
 " Is he working very hard ? " asked Cecil. 
 
 " He always works furiously; and just now I think he 
 has got what some one called * the lust of finishing ' upon 
 him ; we see very little of him, for when he is not at busi- 
 ness he is hard at work over Herr Sivertsen's manuscript. 
 But it really seems to agree with him ; they say, you know, 
 that work without worry harms no one." 
 
 " A very moral precept/' said a voice behind her, and 
 glancing up she saw Frithiof himself crossing the little 
 lawn. 
 
 The two years had not greatly altered him, but he 
 seemed more full of life and vigour than before, and success 
 and hope had entirely banished the look of conflict which 
 for so long had been plainly visible in his face. Sigrid 
 felt proud of him as she glanced round ; there was some- 
 thing in his mere physical strength which always appealed 
 to her. 
 
 " We were just talking about you," she said, and " won- 
 dering when you would be ready to play." 
 
 "After that remark of yours which I overheard, T 
 
404 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 almost think I shall have to eschew tennis," he said, 
 laughing. " Why should I give a whole hour to it when 
 Herr Sfvertsen is impatiently waiting for the next instal- 
 ment ? " 
 
 " Herr Sivertsen is insatiable," said Sigrid, taking otf 
 her gardening-gloves. " And I'm not going to allow you 
 to return to your old bad ways ; as long as you live with 
 me you will have to be something more than a working 
 drudge." 
 
 "Since Sigrid has begun baby's education," said 
 Frithiof, turning laughingly to Cecil, " we notice that she 
 has become very dictatorial to the rest of us." 
 
 " You shouldn't make stage asides in such a loud 
 voice," said Sigrid, pretending to box his ears. " I am 
 going to meet Roy and to fetch the racquets, and you take 
 him into the garden, Cecil, and make him behave 
 properly." 
 
 " Are you really so specially busy just now ? " asked 
 Cecil, as he opened the little gate and joined her ; " or 
 was it only your fun ? " 
 
 " No, it was grim earnest," he replied. " For since 
 Herr Sivertsen has been so infirm I have had most of his 
 work to do. But it is well-paid work, and a very great 
 help toward the debt fund. In ten years' time I may be 
 free." 
 
 " You will really have paid off everything ? " 
 
 " I quite hope to be able to do so." 
 
 " It will be a great work done," she said, thoughtfully. 
 " But when it is all finished I wonder whether you will not 
 feel a little like the men who work all their lives to make a 
 certain amount and then retire, and can't think what to do 
 with themselves ? " 
 
 " I hope not," said Frithiof; " but I own that there is a 
 chance of it. You see, the actual work in itself is hateful 
 to me. Never, I should think, was there any one who so 
 loathed indoor work of all kinds, specially desk work. Yet 
 I have learned to take real interest in the business, and that 
 will remain and still be my duty when the debts are cleared 
 off. It is a shocking confession, but I own that when 
 Herr Sivertsen's work is no longer a necessity it will be 
 immense relief to me, and I doubt if I shall ever open that 
 sort of book again." 
 
 " It must be terrible drudgery," said Cecil, " since you 
 can't really like it." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 405 
 
 " Herr Sivertsen has given me up as a hopeless case ; 
 he has long ago ceased to talk about Culture with a 
 capital C to it ; he no longer expects me to take ajiy inter- 
 est in the question whether earth-worms do or do not show 
 any sensitiveness to sound when placed on a grand piano. 
 I told him that the bare idea is enough to make any one 
 in the trade shudder." 
 
 Cecil laughed merrily. It was by no means the first 
 time that he had told her of his hopeless lack of all literary 
 and scientific tastes, and she admired him all the more for 
 it, because he kept so perseveringly to the work, and 
 disregarded his personal tastes so manfully. They had, 
 moreover, many points in common, for there was a vein 
 of poetry in his nature as well as in hers ; like most Nor- 
 wegians, he was musical, and his love of sport and of 
 outdoor life had not robbed him of the gentler tastes 
 love of scenery and love of home. 
 
 " See ! " she exclaimed, " there is the first narcissus. 
 How early it is ! I must take it to mother, for she is so 
 fond of them." 
 
 He stooped to gather the flower for her, and as she took 
 it from him, he just glanced at her for a moment ; she was 
 looking very pretty that evening, her grey eyes were 
 unusually bright, there was a soft glow of colour in her 
 fair face, an air of glad contentment seemed to hover about 
 her. He little guessed that it was happiness in his success 
 which was the cause of all this. 
 
 Even as he watched her, however, her colour faded, her 
 lips began to quiver, she seemed to be on the point of 
 fainting. 
 
 "Is anything the matter?" he asked, alarmed by the 
 sudden change in her face. " Are you ill, Cecil ? " 
 
 She did not reply, but let him help her to the nearest 
 garden seat. 
 
 " It is the scent of the narcissus ; it is too strong for 
 you," he suggested. 
 
 " No," she gasped. " But a most awful feeling came 
 over me. Something is going to happen, I am sure of it." 
 
 He looked perplexed. She dropped the narcissus from 
 her hand, and he picked it up and put it on the farther 
 side of the bench, still clinging to his own theory that it 
 was the cause of her faintness. Her face, which a moment 
 before had been so bright, was now white as the flower 
 itself, and the look of suffering in it touched him. 
 
4 o6 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 His heart began to beat a little uneasily when he saw a 
 servant approaching them from the house. 
 
 " She is right," he thought to himself. " What on earth 
 can it be ? " 
 
 " Master asked me to give you this, Miss Cecil," said 
 the maid, handing her a little penciled note. 
 
 She sat up hastily, making a desperate effort to look as 
 if nothing were wrong with her. The servant went back 
 to the house, and Frithiof waited anxiously to hear what 
 the note was about. She read it through and then handed 
 it to him. 
 
 It ran as follows : 
 
 " Mr. Grantley has come, and wishes to see the chil- 
 dren. He will not take them away for a few days, but you 
 had better bring them down to see him." 
 
 " He is out of prison ! " exclaimed Frithiof. " But 
 surely his time is not 'up yet. I thought he had five 
 years ? " 
 
 " The five years would be over next October. I knew 
 it would come some day, but I never thought of it so soon, 
 and to take them away in a few days ! " 
 
 " I remember now," said Frithiof; " there is a rule that 
 by good behaviour in prison they can slightly shorten their 
 time. I am so sorry for you ; it will be a fearful wrench 
 to you to part with Lance and Gwen." 
 
 She locked her hands together, making no attempt at an 
 answer. 
 
 " How exactly like the world," thought Frithiof to him- 
 self. " Here is a girl passionately devoted to these 
 children, while the mother, who never deserved them at 
 all, has utterly deserted them. To have had them for five 
 years and then suddenly to lose them altogether, that is a 
 fearful blow for her, they ought to have thought of it 
 before adopting the children." 
 
 " Is there nothing I can do to help you ? " he said turn- 
 ing toward her. " Shall I go and fetch Lance and 
 Gwen ? " 
 
 With an effort she stood up. 
 
 " No, no," she said, trying hard to speak cheerfully. 
 " Don't let this spoil your game. I am better, I will go 
 and find them." 
 
 But by a sudden impulse he sprang up, made her take 
 his arm and walked to the house with her. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 407 
 
 "You arc still rather shaky, I think," he said. " Let 
 me come with you, I can at any rate save you the stairs. 
 How strange it was that you should have known beforehand 
 that this was coming ! Did you ever have a presentiment 
 of that kind over anything else ? " 
 
 " Never," she said. " It was such an awful feeling. I 
 wonder what it is that brings it." 
 
 He left her in the hall and ran up-stairs to the nursery, 
 where he was always a welcome visitor. Both children 
 rushed to meet him with cries of delight. 
 
 " Cecil has sent me up with a message to you," he 
 said. 
 
 " To say we may come down," shouted Lance. "Is it 
 that, HcrrFrithiof?" 
 
 " No," cried Gwen, dancing round him, " it's to say a 
 holiday for to-morrow, I guess." 
 
 " No, not that exactly," he said; "but your father 
 has come and Cecil wants you to come down and see 
 him." 
 
 The children's faces fell. It seemed almost as if they 
 instinctively knew of the cloud that hung over their father. 
 They had always known that he would some day come to 
 them ; but his name had been little mentioned. It was 
 difficult to mention it without running the risk of the 
 terrible questions which as children they were so likely 
 to ask. All the gladness and spirit seemed to have left 
 them. They were both shy, and the meeting with this 
 unknown parent was a terror to them. They clung to 
 Frithiof as he took them down-stairs, and, catching sight 
 of Cecil leaning back in one of the hall chairs, they made 
 a rush for her, and poured out all their childish fears as 
 she clung to them and kissed them with all the tenderness 
 of a real mother. 
 
 "We don't want to go and see father," said Lance 
 stoutly. " We had much rather not." 
 
 " But you must think that he wants to see you very 
 much," sai-.l Cecil. " He remembers you quite well, though 
 you have forgotten him ; and now that he has come back 
 to you, you must both make him very happy, and love 
 him." 
 
 " I don't like him at all," said Gwen perversely. 
 
 "It is silly and wrong to say that," said Cecil. "You 
 will love him when you see him." 
 
4 o8 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " I love you," said Gwen with a vehement hug. 
 
 " Have you only room for one person in your heart ? " 
 
 "I rather love HerrFrithiof," said Gwen, glancing up at 
 him through her eyelashes. 
 
 They both smiled, and Cecil, seeing that little would be 
 gained by discussing the matter, got up and led them 
 toward the drawing-room, her pale, brave face contrasting 
 curiously with Gwen's rosy cheeks and rebellious little 
 air. 
 
 Mr. Boniface sat talking to the new-comer kindly enough. 
 They both rose as Cecil and the children entered. 
 
 " This is my daughter," said Mr. Boniface. 
 
 And Cecil shook hands with the ex-prisoner, and looked 
 a little anxiously into his face. 
 
 He was rather a pleasant-looking man of five-and-thirty, 
 and so much like Lance that she could not help feeling 
 kindly toward him. She hoped that the children would 
 behave well, and glanced at Gwen nervously. 
 
 But Gwen, who was a born flirt, speedily forgot her dis- 
 like, and was quite willing to meet the stranger's advances 
 half-way. In two minutes' time she was contentedly sitting 
 on his knee, while Lance stood shyly by, studying his father 
 with a gravity which was, however, inclined to be friendly 
 and not critical. When he had quite satisfied himself he 
 went softly away, returning before long with a toy pistol 
 and a boat, which he put into his father's hands. 
 
 " What is this ? " said Mr. Grantley. 
 
 " It's my favourite toys," said Lance. " I wanted to show 
 them to you. Quick, Gwen, run and find your doll for 
 father." 
 
 He seemed touched and pleased ; and indeed they were 
 such well-trained children that any parent must have been 
 proud of them. To this ex-convict, who for years had been 
 cut off from all child-life, the mere sight of them was refresh- 
 ing. He seemed quite inclined to sit there and play with 
 them for the rest of the evening. And Cecil sat by in a 
 sort of dream, hearing of the new home that was to be made 
 for the children in British Columbia where land was to 
 be had for a penny an acre, and where one could live on 
 grapes and peaches, and all the most delicious fruits. 
 Then, presently, with many expressions of gratitude for all 
 that had been done for the children, Mr. Grantley took 
 leave, and she led the little ones up to bed, leaving Mr. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 409 
 
 and Mrs. Boniface to go out into the garden and tell Roy 
 and Sigrid what had passed. 
 
 " How does Cecil take it ? " asked Sigrid anxiously. 
 
 " Very quietly," was the reply; "but I am afraid she 
 feels losing them so soon." 
 
 Frithiof, with an uncomfortable recollection of what had 
 passed in the garden, doubted if Mrs. Boniface fully under- 
 stood the depth of Cecil's feelings. He left them talking 
 over the drawbacks and advantages of colonial life, and 
 went in to his translating ; but though he forgot the actual 
 cause, he was conscious all the time of a disturbing influ- 
 ence, and even while absorbed in his work, had an irritating 
 sense that something had gone wrong, and that trouble was 
 in the air. 
 
 He went to bed and dreamed all night of Cecil. She 
 haunted him persistently; sometimes he saw her leaning 
 back on the garden seat, with the narcissus just falling 
 from her hand, sometimes he saw her with the children 
 clinging to her as they had done in the hall. 
 
 From that time forward a great change came over his 
 attitude toward her. Hitherto his friendship with her had, 
 it must be owned, been chiefly selfish. He had always 
 heartily liked her, had enjoyed being at Rowan Tree House, 
 had fallen into the habit of discussing many things with 
 her and valuing her opinion, but it was always of himself 
 that he had thought of what she could do for him, of 
 what he could learn from her, of how much enjoyment he 
 could get from her music and her frank friendliness, and 
 her easy way of talking. It was not that he was more 
 selfish than most men, but that they had learned really to 
 know each other at a time when his heart was so paralysed 
 by Blanche's faithlessness, so crushed by the long series 
 of misfortunes, that giving had been out of the question for 
 him, he could merely take and make the most of whatever 
 she could give him. 
 
 But now all this was altered. The old wounds, though 
 to the end of his life they must leave a scar, were really 
 healed. He had lived through a great deal, and had lived 
 in a way that had developed the best points in his char- 
 acter. He had now a growingly keen appreciation for all 
 that was really beautiful for purity, and strength, and 
 tenderness, and for that quality which it is the fashion to 
 call Altruism, but which he, with his hatred of affectation 
 in words, called goodness. 
 
4 io A HARD Y NORSEMAN-. 
 
 As he thought of Cecil during those days he began to 
 see more and more clearly the full force of her character. 
 Hitherto he had quietly taken her for granted ; there was 
 nothing very striking about her, nothing in the least obtru- 
 sive. Perhaps if it had not been for that strange little 
 scene in the garden he would never have taken the trouble 
 to think of her actual character. 
 
 Through the week that followed he watched her with 
 keen interest and sympathy. That she should be in trou- 
 ble at any rate, in trouble that was patent to all the world 
 was something entirely new. Their positions seemed to 
 be reversed ; and he found himself spontaneously doing 
 everything he could think of to please and help her. Her 
 trouble seemed to draw them together ; and to his mind 
 there was something very beautiful in her passionate devo- 
 tion to the children for it was a devotion that never in 
 the least bordered on sentimentality. She went through 
 everything very naturally, having a good cry now and then, 
 but taking care not to make the children unhappy at the 
 prospect of the parting, and arranging everything that they 
 could possibly want, not only on the voyage, but for some 
 time to come in their new home. 
 
 " She is so plucky ! " thought Frithiof to himself with a 
 thrill of admiration. For he was not at all the sort of 
 man to admire helplessness, or languor, or cowardice; 
 they seemed to him as unlovely in a woman as in a man. 
 
 At last the actual parting came. Cecil would have liked 
 to go down to the steamer and see the children start, but 
 on thinking it over she decided that it would be better not. 
 
 " They will feel saying good-bye," she said, " and it had 
 better be here. Then they will have the long drive with 
 you to the docks, and by that time they will be all right 
 again, and will be able to enjoy the steamer and all the 
 novelty." 
 
 Mr. Boniface was obliged to own that there was sound 
 common sense in this plan ; so in their own nursery, where 
 for nearly five years she had taken such care of them 
 Cecil dressed the two little ones for the last time, brushed 
 out Gwen's bright curls, coaxed Lance into his reefer, and 
 then, no longer able to keep back her tears, clung to them 
 in the last terrible parting. 
 
 " Oh, Cecil, dear, darling Cecil," sobbed Lance, " I don't 
 want to go away ; I don't care for the steamer one bit." 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 411 
 
 She was on the hearthrug, with both children nestled 
 close to her, the thought of the unknown world that they 
 were going out into, and the difficult future awaiting them, 
 came sweeping over her ; just as they were then, innocent, 
 and unconscious, and happy, she could never see them 
 again. 
 
 " Be good, Lance," she said, through her tears. " Pro- 
 mise me always to try to be good." 
 
 " I promise," said the little fellow, hugging her with all 
 his might. " And we shall come back as soon as ever we're 
 grown up we shall both come back." 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Cecil, "you must come back." 
 
 But in her heart she knew that however pleasant the 
 meething in future years might be, it could not be like the 
 present ; as children, and as her own special charge, she 
 was parting with them forever. 
 
 The carriage drove up to the door, there came sounds of 
 hurrying feet and fetching and carrying of luggage, Cecil 
 took them downstairs, and then, with a last long embrace 
 from Lance, and kisses interspersed with sobs from Gwen, 
 she gave them up to her father, and turned to take leave 
 of their nurse. 
 
 " I will take great care of them, miss," said the maid, 
 herself crying, " and you shall hear from me regularly." 
 
 In another minute the carriage had driven away, and 
 Cecil was left to make the best she might of what she could 
 not but feel, at first, a desolate life. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 HARDLY had the bustle of departure quieted down at 
 Rowan Tree House when a fresh anxiety arose. Herr 
 Sivertsen, who had for some time been out of health, was 
 seized with a fatal illness, and for three days and nights 
 Frithiof was unable to leave him ; on the third night the 
 old Norseman passed quietly away, conscious to the last 
 minute, and with his latest breath inveighing against the 
 degeneracy of the age. 
 
 " Frithiof is a rare exception," he said, turning his dim 
 eyes toward Sigrid, who stood by the bedside. " And to 
 him I leave all that I have. As for the general run of 
 
4 i2 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 young men nowadays I wash my hands of them a worth- 
 less set a degenerate " 
 
 His voice died away, he sighed deeply, caught Frithiof s 
 hand in his, and fell back on the pillow lifeless. 
 
 When the will was read it affirmed that Herr Sivertsen, 
 who had no relations living, had indeed left his property to 
 Frithiof. The will was terse and eccentric in the extreme, 
 and seemed like one of the old man's own speeches, end- 
 ing with the familiar words, " for he is one of the few 
 honest and hard-working men in a. despicable generation." 
 
 Naturally there was only one way to which Frithiof 
 could think of putting his legacy. Every penny of it went 
 straight to his debt fund. Mr. Horner heard of it and 
 groaned. " What ! " he exclaimed, " pay away the 
 principal ; hand over thousands of pounds in payment of 
 debts that are not even his own debts that don't affect 
 his name ! He ought to put the money into this business, 
 Boniface ; it would only be a fitting way of showing you 
 his gratitude." 
 
 u He put into the business what I value far more," said 
 Mr. Boniface. " He put into it his honest Norwegian heart, 
 and this legacy will save him many years of hard, weary 
 work and anxiety." 
 
 When summer came it was arranged that they should go 
 to Norway, and Frithiof went about his work with such an 
 air of relief and contentment, that had it not been for one 
 hidden anxiety Sigrid's happiness would have been com- 
 plete. 
 
 Her marriage had been so extremely happy that she was 
 less than ever satisfied with the prospect that seemed to lie 
 before Cecil. The secret which she had found out at the 
 time of Frithiof 's disgrace weighed upon her now a good 
 deal, she almost wished that Roy would guess it ; but no 
 one else seemed to have any suspicion of it at all, and Sig- 
 rid of course could not speak, partly because she was Fri- 
 thiof 's sister, partly because she had a strong feeling that 
 to allude to that matter would be to betray Cecil unfairly. 
 Had she been a match-maker she might have done endless 
 harm ; had she been a reckless talker she would probably 
 have defeated her own ends ; but happily she was neither, 
 and though at times she longed to give Frithiof a good 
 shaking, when she saw him entirely absorbed in his work 
 and blind to all else, she managed to keep her own counsel, 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 413 
 
 and to await, though somewhat impatiently, whatever time 
 should bring. One evening it chanced that the brother 
 and sister were alone for a few minutes during the intervals 
 of an amateur concert, which Cecil had been asked to get 
 up at Whitechapel. 
 
 " How do you think it has gone off? " said Sigrid, as he 
 sat down beside her in the little inner room. 
 
 " Capitally ; Cecil ought to be congratulated," he replied. 
 " I am glad she has had it on hand, for it must have taken 
 her thoughts off the children." 
 
 " Yes," said Sigrid ; " anything that does that is worth 
 something." 
 
 " Yet she seems to me to have plenty of interests," said 
 Frithiof. "She is never idle, she is a great reader." 
 
 u Do you think books would ever satisfy a woman like 
 Cecil ? " exclaimed Sigrid with a touch of scorn in her 
 voice. 
 
 He looked at her quickly, struck by something unusual 
 in her tone, and not at all understanding the little flush of 
 hot colour that had risen in her face. 
 
 " Oh," he said teasingly, " you think that every one has 
 your ideal of happiness, and cannot manage to exist with- 
 out the equivalent of Roy and baby, to say nothing of the 
 house and garden." 
 
 " I don't think anything of the sort," she protested, 
 relieved by his failure to appropriate to himself her rather 
 unguarded speech. 
 
 " Norway will be the best thing in the world for her," 
 he said. " It is the true panacea for all evils. Can you 
 believe that in less than a week we shall actually be at Ber- 
 gen once more ! " 
 
 And Sigrid, looking at his eager, blue eyes, and remem- 
 bering his brave struggles and long exile, could not find it 
 in her heart to be angry with him any more. Besides, he 
 had been very thoughtful for Cecil just lately, and seemed 
 to have set his heart on making the projected tour in Nor- 
 way as nearly perfect as might be. To Sigrid there was a 
 serious drawback she was obliged to leave her baby be- 
 hind in England ; however, after the first wrench of parting 
 she managed to enjoy herself very well, and Mrs. Boniface, 
 who was to spend the six weeks of their absence in Devon- 
 shire with some of her- cousins,, promised to take every 
 possible care of her little grandson, to telegraph now and 
 
4H A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 then, and to write at every opportunity. It had been im- 
 possible for Mr. Boniface to leave London, but the two 
 younger members of the firm, with Sigrid, Cecil, and little 
 Swanhild, made a very merry party, and Frithiof, at length 
 free from the load of his father's debts, seemed suddenly to 
 grow ten years younger. Indeed, Sigrid, who for so long 
 had seen her hopes for Cecil defeated by the cares and toils 
 brought by these same debts, began to fear that now his 
 extreme happiness in his freedom would quite suffice to 
 him, and that he would desire nothing further. 
 
 Certainly, for many years he had known nothing like the 
 happiness of that voyage, with its bright expectation, its 
 sense of relief. To look back on the feverish excitement 
 of his voyage to England five years before was like look- 
 ing back into some other life ; and if the world was a graver 
 and sadder place to him now than it had been long ago, 
 he had at any rate learned that life was not limited to three- 
 score years and ten, and had gained a far deeper happiness 
 of which no one could rob him. On the Wednesday 
 night he slept little, and very early in the morning was up on 
 the wet and shining deck eagerly looking at the first glimpse 
 of his own country. His heart bounded within him when 
 the red roofs and gables of Stavanger came into sight, and 
 he was the very first to leap off the steamer, far too im- 
 patient to touch Norwegian soil once -more to dream of 
 waiting for the more leisurely members of the party. The 
 quiet little town seemed still fast asleep, he scarcely met a 
 soul in the primitive streets with their neat wooden houses 
 and their delightful look of home. In a rapture of happi- 
 ness he walked on drinking down deep breaths of the fresh 
 morning air, until coming at length to the cathedral he 
 caught sight of an old woman standing at the door, key in 
 hand. 
 
 He stopped and had a long conversation with her for 
 the mere pleasure of hearing his native tongue once more ; 
 he made her happy with a kroner and enjoyed her grateful 
 shake of the hand, then, partly to please her, entered the 
 cathedral. In the morning light, the severe beauty of the 
 old Norman nave was very impressive ; he knelt for a 
 minute or two, glad to have the uninterrupted quiet of the 
 great place before it had been reached by any of the tourists. 
 It came into his mind haw, long ago, his father's last words 
 to him had been " A happy return to Gammle Norge," 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 415 
 
 how for so long those words had seemed to him the bitterest 
 mockery an utter impossibility and how, at last in a 
 very strange and different way, they had come true. He 
 had come back, and, spite of all that had intervened, he 
 was happy. 
 
 Later in the day, when they slowly steamed into Bergen 
 harbour and saw once more the place that he had so often 
 longed for, with its dear familiar houses and spires, its 
 lovely surrounding mountains, his happiness was not with- 
 out a strong touch of pain. For after all, though the place 
 remained, his home had gone forever, and though Herr 
 Gronvold stood waiting for them on the landing quay with 
 the heartiest of welcomes, yet he could not but feel a ter- 
 rible blank. 
 
 Cecil read his face in a moment, and understood just 
 what he was feeling. 
 
 " Come and let us look for the luggage," she said to 
 Roy, wishing to leave the three Norwegians to themselves 
 for a few minutes. 
 
 tl Rather different to our last arrival here," said Roy 
 brightly. He was so very happy that it was hardly likely 
 he should think just then of other people. But as Cecil 
 gave the assent which seemed so matter-of-fact her eyes 
 filled with tears, for she could not help thinking of all the 
 brightness of that first visit, of Frithiof with his boyish 
 gayety and light-heartedness, of the kindness and hospital- 
 ity of his father, of the pretty villa in Kalvedalen, of poor 
 Blanche in her innocent girlhood. 
 
 They were all to stay for a few days with the Gronvolds, 
 and there was now plenty of room for them, since Karen 
 and the eldest son were married and settled in homes of 
 their own. Fru Gronvold and Sigrid met with the utmost 
 affection, and all the petty quarrels and vexations of the 
 past were forgotten ; indeed, the very first evening they 
 had a hearty laugh over the recollection of their difference 
 of opinion about Torvald Lundgren. 
 
 " And, my dear," said Fru Gronvold, who was as usual 
 knitting an interminable stocking. " You need not feel at 
 all anxious about him, he is very happily married, and I 
 think, yes, certainly I cannot help owning, that he manages 
 his household with a firmer hand than would perpaps have 
 suited you. He has a very pretty little wife who worships 
 the ground he treads on." 
 
416 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " Which you see I could never have done/' said Sigrid, 
 merrily. "Poor Torvald ! I am very glad he is happily 
 settled. Frithiof must go and see him. How do you think 
 Swanhild is looking, auntie ? " 
 
 " Very well and very pretty," said Fru Gronvold. " One 
 would naturally suppose that, at her rather awkward age, 
 she would have lost her good looks, but she is as graceful 
 as ever." 
 
 " She is. a very brave, hard-working little woman," said 
 Sigrid. " I told you that she had begged so hard to stay 
 on with Madame Lechertier that we had consented. It 
 would indeed have been hardly fair to take her away all at 
 once, when Madame had been so kind and helpful to us ; 
 and Swanhild is very independent, you know, and declares 
 that she must have some sort of profession, and that to be 
 a teacher of dancing is clearly her vocation." 
 
 " By-and-by, when she is grown up, she is going to keep 
 my house," said Frithiof. 
 
 " No, no," said Sigrid ; " I shall never spare her, unless 
 it is to get married j you two would never get on all by 
 yourselves. By-the-by, I am sure Cecil is keeping away 
 from us on purpose ; she went off on the plea of reading 
 for her half-hour society, but she has been gone quite a 
 long time. Go and find her, Frithiof, and tell her we very 
 much want her." 
 
 He went out and found Cecil comfortably installed in the 
 dining-room with her book. 
 
 " Have you not read enough ? " he said. " We are very 
 dull without you in there." 
 
 " I thought you would have so much to talk over to- 
 gether," she said, putting down her book and lifting her 
 soft grey eyes to his. 
 
 " Not a bit," he replied ; " we are pining for music and 
 want you to sing, if you are not too tired. What learned 
 book were you reading, after such a journey ? Plato ? " 
 
 " A translation of the * Phaedo,' " she said. " There is 
 such a strange little bit here about pleasure being mixed 
 with pain always." 
 
 " Oh, they had found that out in those days, had they ? " 
 said Frithiof. " Read the bit to me ; for, to tell you the 
 truth, it would fit in rather well with this return to Bergen." 
 
 Cecil turned over the pages and read the following speech 
 of Socrates : 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 417 
 
 " ' How singular is the thing called pleasure, and how 
 curiously related to pain, which might be thought to be the 
 opposite of it ; for they never come to man together, and 
 yet he who pursues either of them is generally compelled to 
 take the other. They are two, and yet they grow to- 
 gether out of one head or stem; and I cannot help think- 
 ing that if ysop had noticed them he would have made a 
 fable about God trying to reconcile their strife, and when 
 he could not, he fastened their heads together ; and this is 
 the reason why, when one comes the other follows.' " 
 
 " It's odd to think that all these hundreds of years peo- 
 ple have been racking their brains to find some explana- 
 tion of the great problem," said Frithiof, " that generation 
 after generation of unsatisfied people have lived and died." 
 
 " A poor woman from East London once answered the 
 problem to me quite unconsciously," said Cecil. " She 
 was down in the country for change of air, and she said to 
 me, ' It's just like Paradise here, miss, and if it could always 
 go on it would be heaven.' " 
 
 He sighed. 
 
 " Come and sing me ' Princessen,' " he said, " if you are 
 really not too tired. I am very much in the mood of that 
 restless lady in the poem." 
 
 And, in truth, often during those days at Bergen he was 
 haunted by the weird ending of the song 
 
 ' What do I then want, my God ? ' she cried. 
 Then the sun went down." 
 
 He had a good deal of business to see to, and the clearing 
 off of the debts was, of course, not without a considerable 
 pleasure ; he greatly enjoyed, too, the hearty welcome of 
 his old friends ; but there was always something wanting. 
 For every street, every view, every inch of the place was 
 associated with his father, and, dearly as he loved Ber- 
 gen, he felt that he could not have borne to live in it again. 
 He seemed to find his chief happiness in lionising Cecil, 
 and sometimes, when with her, the pain of the return was 
 forgotten, and he so enjoyed her admiration of his native 
 city that he no longer felt the terrible craving for his 
 father's presence. They went to Nestun, and wandered 
 about in the woods ; they took Cecil to see the quaint old 
 wooden church from Fortun ; they had a merry picnic at 
 
 14 
 
4i S A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 Fjessanger, and an early expedition to the Bergen fish 
 market, determined that Cecil should enjoy that picturesque 
 scene with the weather-beaten fishermen, the bargaining 
 housewives with their tin pails, the boats laden with their 
 shining wealth of fishes. Again and again, too, they 
 walked up the beautiful fjeldveien to gain that wonderful 
 bird's-eye view over the town and the harbour and the 
 lakes. But perhaps no one was sorry when the visit came 
 to an end, and they were once more on their travels, going 
 by sea to Molde and thence to Naes. 
 
 It was quite late one evening that they steamed down 
 the darkening Romsdalsfjord. The great Romsdalshorn 
 reared its dark head solemnly into the calm sky, and 
 everywhere peace seemed to reign. The steamer was 
 almost empty, Frithiof and Cecil stood alone at the fore- 
 castle end, silently revelling in the exquisite view before 
 them. 
 
 A thousand thoughts were seething in Frithiof 's mind ; 
 that first glimpse of the Romsdalshorn had taken him back 
 to the great crisis of his life ; in strange contrast to that 
 peaceful scene he had a vision of a crowded London street ; 
 in yet stranger contrast to his present happiness and relief 
 he once > more looked into the past, and thought of his 
 hopeless 'misery, of his deadly peril, of the struggle he had 
 gone through, of the chance which had made him pause 
 before the picture shop, and of his recognition of the 
 painting of his native mountains. Then he thought of his 
 first approach to Rowan Tree House on that dusky 
 November afternoon, and he thought of his strange dream 
 of the beasts, and the precipice, and the steep mountain side, 
 .and the opening door with the Madonna and Child framed 
 in dazzling light. Just at that moment from behind the 
 dark purple mountains rose the great, golden-red moon. 
 It was a sight never to be forgotten, and the glow and 
 glamour cast by it over the whole scene was indescribable. 
 Veblungsnaes with its busy wooden pier and its dusky 
 houses, with here and there a light twinkling from a 
 window ; the Romsdalshorn with its lofty peak, and the 
 beautiful valley beyond bathed in that sort of dim bright- 
 ness and misty radiance which can be given by nothing 
 but the rising moon. 
 
 Frithiof turned and looked at Cecil. 
 
 She had taken off her hat that she might better enjoy the 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 419 
 
 soft evening breeze which was ruffling up her fair hair ; her 
 blue dress was one of those shades which are called " new," 
 but which are not unlike the old blue in which artists have 
 always loved to paint the Madonna ; her face was very 
 quiet and happy ; the soft evening light seemed to ether- 
 ealize her. 
 
 " You will never know how much I owe to you," he said 
 impetuously. " Had it not been for all that you did for 
 me in the past I could not possibly have been here to- 
 night." 
 
 She had been looking toward Veblungsnaes, but now 
 she turned to him with a glance so beautiful, so raptur- 
 ously happy, that it seemed to waken new life within him. 
 He was so amazed at the strength of the passion which 
 suddenly took possession of him that for a time he could 
 hardly believe he was in real waking existence ; this 
 magical evening light, this exquisite fjord with its well- 
 known mountains, might well be the scenery of some 
 dream ; and Cecil did not speak to him, she merely gave 
 him that one glance and smile, and then stood beside him 
 silently, as though there were no need of speech between 
 them. 
 
 He was glad she was silent, for he dreaded lest anything 
 should rouse him and take him back to the dull, cold past 
 the past in which for so long he had lived with his heart 
 half dead, upheld only by the intention of redeeming his 
 father's honour. To go back to that state would be 
 terrible ; moreover, the aim no longer existed. The debts 
 were paid his work was over, and yet his life lay before 
 him. 
 
 Was it to be merely a business life a long round of 
 duty work ? or was it possible that love might glorify the 
 every-day round- that even for him this intense happiness, 
 which as yet he could hardly believe to be real, might 
 actually dawn ? 
 
 And the steamer glided on over the calm moonlit waters, 
 and drew nearer to Veblungsnaes, where an eager-faced 
 crowd waited for the great event of the day. A sudden 
 terror seized Frithiof that some one would come to their 
 end of the steamer and break the spell that bound him, and 
 then the very fear itself made him realise that this was no 
 dream, but a great reality. Cecil was beside him, and he 
 loved her a new era had begun in his life. He loved 
 
420 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 her, and grudged whatever could interfere with that strange 
 sense of nearness to her and of bliss in the consciousness 
 which had suddenly changed his whole world. 
 
 But no one came near them. Still they stood there 
 side by side, and the steamer moved on peaceably once 
 more, the silvery track still marking the calm fjord till they 
 reached the little boat that was to land them at Naes. He 
 wished that they could have gone on for hours, for as yet 
 the mere consciousness of his own love satisfied him he 
 wanted nothing but the rapture of life after death of 
 brightness after gloom. When it was no longer possible 
 to prolong that strange, weird calm, he went, like a man 
 half awake, to see after the luggage, and presently, with an 
 odd, dazzled feeling found himself on the shore, where Herr 
 Lossius, the landlord, stood to welcome them. 
 
 " Which is the hotel ? " asked Roy. 
 
 And Herr Lossius replied in his quaint, careful English, 
 " it is yonder, sir that house just under the moon." 
 
 " Did you ever hear such a poetical direction ? " cried 
 Cecil, smiling as they walked up the road together. 
 
 " It suits the evening very well/' said Frithiof. " I am 
 glad he did not say, ' First turning to your right, second to 
 your left, and keep straight on,' like a Londoner." 
 
 But the " house under the moon," though comfortable 
 enough, did not prove a good sleeping place. All the 
 night long Frithiof lay broad awake in his quaint room, and 
 at length, weary of staring at the picture of the stag painted 
 on the window-blind, he drew it up and lay looking out at 
 the dark Romsdalshorn, for the bed was placed across the 
 window, and commanded a beautiful view. 
 
 He could think of nothing but Cecil, of the strange, new 
 insight that had come to him so suddenly, of the marvel 
 that, having known her so long and so intimately, he had 
 only just realised the beauty of her character, with its 
 tender, womanly grace, its quiet strength, its steadfastness 
 and repose. Then came a wave of anxious doubt that 
 drove sleep farther than ever from him. It was no longer 
 enough to be conscious of his love for her. He began to 
 wonder whether it was in the least probable that she could 
 ever care for him. Knowing the whole of his past life, 
 knowing his faults so well, was it likely that she would ever 
 dream of accepting his love ? 
 
 He fell into great despondency ; but the recollection of 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 421 
 
 that sweet, bright glance which she had giren him in reply 
 to his impetuous burst of gratitude, reassured him ; and 
 when, later on, he met her at breakfast his doubts were 
 held at bay, and his hopes raised, not by anything that she 
 did or said, but by her mere presence. 
 
 Whether Sigrid at all guessed at the state of affairs and 
 arranged accordingly, or whether it was a mere chance, it 
 so happened that for the greater part of that day as they 
 travelled through the beautiful Romsdal, Frithiof and Cecil 
 were together. 
 
 "What will yeu do?" said Cecil to herself, "when all 
 this is over ? How will you go back to ordinary life when 
 the tour is ended ? " 
 
 But though she tried in this way to take the edge off her 
 pleasure she could not do it. Afterward might take care 
 of itself. There was no possibility of realising it now, she 
 would enjoy to the full just the present that was hers, the 
 long talks with Frithiof, the delightful sense of fellowship 
 with him, the mutual enjoyment of that exquisite valley. 
 
 And so they drove on, past Aak, with its lovely trees and 
 its rippling river, past the lovely Romsdalshorn, past the 
 Troltinderne, with their weird outline looming up against 
 the blue sky like the battlements and pinnacles of some 
 magit city. About the middle of the day they reached 
 Horgheim, where it had been arranged that they should 
 spend the night. Frithiof was in a mood to find everything 
 beautiful, he even admired the rather bare-looking posting- 
 station, just a long brown, wooden house with a high flight 
 of steps to the door and seats on either side. On the 
 doorstep lay a fine white and tabby cat, which he declared 
 he could remember years before wtysn they had visited the 
 Romsdal. 
 
 " And that is very possible," said the landlady, with a 
 pleased look. " For we have had him these fourteen 
 years." 
 
 Every one crowded round to look at this antiquated cat. 
 
 " What is his name ? " asked Cecil, speaking in Norse. 
 
 " His name is Mons," said the landlady. " Mons 
 Horgheim." 
 
 They all laughed at the thought of a cat with a surname, 
 and then came a general dispersion in quest of rooms. 
 Cecil and Swanhild chose one which looked out across a 
 grassy slope to the river ; the Rauma just at this part is 
 
422 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 very still, and of a deep green colour : beyond were jagged, 
 grey mountains and the moraine of a glacier covered here 
 and there with birch and juniper. Half-a-dozen little 
 houses with grass-grown roofs nestled at the foot, and near 
 them were sweet-smelling hayfields and patches of golden 
 corn. 
 
 They dined merrily on salmon, wild strawberries and 
 cream, and then a walk was proposed. Cecil, however, 
 excused herself, saying that she had letters to write home, 
 and so it chanced that Frithiof and Sigrid had what did not 
 often fall to their lot in those days, the "chance of a quiet 
 talk. 
 
 " What is wrong with you, dear old boy ? " she said ; for 
 since they had left Horgheim she could not but notice that 
 he had grown grave and absorbed. 
 
 " Nothing," he said, with rather a forced laugh. But, 
 though he tried to resume his usual manner and talked 
 with her and teased her playfully, she knew that he had 
 something on his mind, and half-hopefully, half-fearfully, 
 made one more attempt to win his confidence. 
 
 " Let us rest here in the shade," she said, settling herself 
 comfortably under a silver birch. " Roy and Swanhild 
 walk at such a pace that I think we will let them have the 
 first view of the Mongefos." 
 
 He threw himself down on the grass beside her, and for 
 a time there was silence. 
 
 "You did not sleep last night," she said presently. 
 
 " How do you know that?" he said, his colour rising 
 a little. 
 
 " Oh, I know it by your forehead. You were worrying 
 over something. Come, confess." 
 
 He sat up and began to speak abruptly. 
 
 " I want to ask you a question," he said, looking up the 
 valley beyond her and avoiding her eyes. " Do you think 
 a man has any business to offer to a woman a love which is 
 not his first passion ? " 
 
 " At one time I thought not," said Sigrid. " But as I 
 grew older and understood things more it seemed to me 
 different. I think there would be few marriages in the 
 world if we made a rule of that sort. And a woman who 
 really loved tvould lose sight of all selfishness and littleness 
 and jealousy just because of the strength of her love." 
 
 He turned and looked straight into her eyes. 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 423 
 
 " And if I were to tell Cecil that I loved her, do you 
 think she would at any rate listen to me ? " 
 
 " I am not going to say ' yes ' or ' no ' to that question," 
 said Sigrid, suddenly bending forward and giving him 
 a kiss a salute almost unknown between a Norwegian 
 brother and sister. " But I will say instead * Go and 
 try.'" 
 
 " You think then " 
 
 She sprang to her feet 
 
 " I don't think at all," she said laughingly. lt Good-bye. 
 I am going to meet the others at the Mongefos, and you 
 you are going back to Horgheim. Adjo." 
 
 She waved her hand to him and walked resolutely away. 
 He watched her out of sight, then fell back again to his 
 former position on the grass, and thought. She had told 
 him nothing, and yet somehow had brought to him a most 
 wonderful sense of rest and peace. 
 
 Presently he got up and began to retrace his steps along 
 the valley. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 THE afternoon was not so clear as the morning had been, 
 yet it had a beauty of its own which appealed to Frithiof 
 very strongly. The blue sky had changed to a soft pearly 
 grey, all round him rose grave, majestic mountains, their 
 summits clear against the pale background, but wreaths of 
 white mist clinging about their sides in fantastic twists and 
 curves which bridged over huge yawning chasms and 
 seemed to join the valley into a great amphitheatre. The 
 stern grey and purple rocks looked hardly real, so softened 
 were they by the luminous summer haze. Here and there 
 the white snow gleamed coldly in long deep crevices, or in 
 broad clefts where from year's end to year's end it remained 
 unmelted by sun or rain. On each side of the road there 
 was a wilderness of birch and fir and juniper bushes, while 
 in the far distance could be heard the Mongefos with its 
 ceaseless sound of many waters, repeated on either hand 
 by the smaller waterfalls. Other sound there was none 
 save the faint tinkle of cowbells or the rare song of the 
 little black and white wagtails, which seemed the only 
 birds in the valley. 
 
424 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 Suddenly he perceived a little further along the road a 
 slim figure leaning against the fence, the folds of a blue 
 dress, the gleam of light-brown hair under a sealskin tra- 
 velling cap. His heart began to beat fast, he strode on 
 more quickly, and Cecil, hearing footsteps, looked up. 
 
 " I had finished my letter and thought I would come out 
 to explore a little," she said, as he joined her. " You have 
 come back ? " 
 
 " Yes," he said, " I have come back to you." 
 
 She glanced at him questioningly, startled by his tone, 
 but before his eager look her eyelids dropped, and a soft 
 glow of colour suffused her face. 
 
 " Cecil," he said, " do you remember what you said years 
 ago about men who worked hard to make their fortune and 
 then retired and were miserable because they had nothing 
 to do ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," she said, " I remember it very well, and have 
 often seen instances of it." 
 
 " I am like that now," he continued. " My work seems 
 over, and I stand at the threshold of a new life. It was 
 you who saved me from ruin in my old life will you be my 
 helper no\v? " 
 
 " Do you think I really could help? " she said, wistfully. 
 
 He looked at her gentle eyes, at her pure, womanly face, 
 and he knew that his life was in her hands. 
 
 " I do not know," he said, gravely. " It depends on 
 whether you could love me whether you will let me speak 
 of my love for you." 
 
 Then as he paused, partly because his English words 
 would not come very readily, partly in hope of some sign 
 of encouragement from her, she turned to him with a face 
 which shone with heavenly light. 
 
 " There must never be any secrets between us," she said, 
 speaking quite simply and directly. " I have loved you 
 ever since you first came to us years ago." 
 
 It was nothing to Frithiof that they were standing at the 
 side of the king's highway he had lost all sense of time 
 and place the world only contained for him the woman 
 who loved him the woman who let him clasp her in his 
 strong arm let him press her sweet face to his. 
 
 And still from the distance came the sound of many 
 waters, and the faint tinkle of the cowbells and the song of 
 the little black and white birds. The grave grey moun- 
 
A HARD Y NORSEMAN". 425 
 
 tains seemed like strong and kindly friends who sheltered 
 them and shut them in from all intrusion of the outer 
 world, but they were so entirely absorbed in each other 
 that they had not a thought for anything else. 
 
 " With you I shall have courage to begin life afresh," he 
 said, after a time. " To have the right to love you to be 
 always with you that will be everything to me." 
 
 And then, as he thought of her true-hearted confession, 
 he tried to understand a little better the unseen ordering 
 of his life, and he loved to think that those weary years 
 had been wasted neither on him nor Cecil herself. He 
 could not for one moment doubt that her pure, unsel- 
 fish love had again and again shielded him from evil, that 
 all through his English life, with its hard struggles and 
 bitter suffering, her love had in some unknown way been 
 his safeguard and that his life, crippled by the faithless- 
 ness of a woman, had by a woman also been redeemed. 
 All his old morbid craving for death had gone ; he eagerly 
 desired a long life, that he might live with her, work for 
 her, shield her from care, fill up, to the best of his power, 
 what was incomplete in her life. 
 
 " I shall have a postscript to add to my letter," said Cecil, 
 presently, looking up at him with the radiant smile which 
 he so loved to see on her lips. " What a very feminine 
 one it will be ! We say, you know, in England, that a 
 woman's postscript is the most important part of her 
 letter." 
 
 " Will your father and mother ever spare you to me ? " 
 said Frithiof. 
 
 " They will certainly welcome you as their son," she 
 replied. 
 
 " And Mr. and Mrs. Homer ? " suggested Frithiof, 
 mischievously. 
 
 But at the thought of the consternation of her worthy 
 cousins Cecil could do nothing but laugh. 
 
 " Never mind," she said, " they have always disap- 
 proved of me as much as they have of you ; they will per- 
 haps say that it is, after all, a highly suitable arrange- 
 ment ! " 
 
 " I wonder whether Swanhild will say the same ? " said 
 Frithiof, with a smile ; " here she comes, hurrying home 
 alone. Will you wait by the river and let me just tell her 
 my good news?" 
 
426 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 He walked along the road to meet his sister, who, spite 
 of added years and inches, still retained much of her child- 
 likeness. 
 
 " Why are you all alone ? " he said. 
 
 " Oh, three is no fun," said Swanhild. " When Roy 
 and Sigrid are out on a holiday they are just like lovers, so 
 I came back to you." 
 
 " What will you say when I tell you that I am be- 
 trothed," he said, teasingly. 
 
 She looked up in his face with some alarm. 
 
 " You are only making fun of me," she protested. 
 
 " On the contrary, I am stating the most serious of 
 facts. Come, I want your congratulations." 
 
 " But who are you betrothed to ? " asked Swanhild, 
 bewildered. " " Can it be to. Madale ? And, oh dear, what 
 a horrid time to choose for it you will be just no good at 
 all. I really do think you might have waited till the end 
 of the tour." 
 
 "It might possibly have been managed if you had 
 spoken sooner," said Frithiof, with mock gravity, " but 
 you come too late the deed is done." 
 
 " Well, I shall have Cecil to talk to, so after all it 
 doesn't much matter," said Swanhild, graciously. 
 
 " But, unfortunately, she also has become betrothed," 
 said Frithiof, watching the bewildered little face with keen 
 pleasure, and seeing the light of perception suddenly 
 dawn on it. 
 
 Swanhild caught his hand in hers. 
 
 " You don't mean " she began. 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Frithiof, " but I do mean it very much 
 indeed. Come," and he hurried her down the grassy 
 slope to the river. " I shall tell Cecil every word you 
 have been saying." Then, as she rose to meet them, he 
 said with a laugh, "This selfish child thinks we might have 
 put it off till the end of the tour for her special benefit." 
 
 "No, no," cried Swanhild, flying toward Cecil with out- 
 stretched arms. " I never knew it was to you he was 
 betrothed and you could never be that horrid, moony 
 kind who are always sitting alone together in corners." 
 
 At which ingenuous Congratulation they all laughed so 
 immoderately that Mons Horgheim the cat was roused 
 from his afternoon nap on the steps of the station, and 
 after a preliminary stretch strolled down toward the river 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 427 
 
 to see what was the matter, and to bring the sobriety and 
 accumulated wisdom of his fourteen years to bear upon 
 the situation. 
 
 " Ah, well," said Swanhild, with a comical gesture, 
 " there is clearly nothing for me but, as they say in Italy, 
 to stay at home and nurse the cat." 
 
 And catching up the astonished Mons, she danced away, 
 eager to be the first to tell the good news to Roy and 
 Sigrid. 
 
 "It will be really very convenient," she remarked, to 
 the infinite amusement of her elders. " We shall not lose 
 Frithiof at all ; he -will only have to move across to Rowan 
 Tree House." 
 
 And ultimately that was how matters arranged them- 
 selves, so that the house which had sheltered Frithiof in 
 his time of trouble became his home in this time of his 
 prosperity. 
 
 He had not rushed all at once into full light and com- 
 plete manhood and lasting happiness. Very slowly, very 
 gradually, the life that had been plunged in darkness had 
 emerged into faint twilight as he had struggled to redeem 
 his father's name ; then, by degrees, the brightness of dawn 
 had increased, and, sometimes helped, sometimes hindered 
 by the lives which had come into contact with his own, he 
 had at length emerged into clearer light, till, after long 
 waiting, the sun had indeed risen. 
 
 As Swanhild had prophesied, they were by no means 
 selfish lovers, and, far from spoiling the tour, their happi- 
 ness did much to add to its success. 
 
 Cecil hardly knew which part of it was most delightful 
 to her, the return to Molde and the pilgrimage to the quaint 
 little jeweler's shop where they chose two plain gold be- 
 trothal rings such as are always used in Norway ; or the 
 merry journey to the Geiranger; or the quiet days at 
 Oldoren, in that lovely valley with the river curving and 
 bending its way between wooded banks, and the rampart 
 of grand, craggy mountains with snowy peaks, her own 
 special mountain, as Frithiof called Cecilienkrone, domi- 
 nating all. 
 
 It was at Oldoren that she saw for the first time one of 
 the prettiest sights in Norway a country wedding. The 
 charming bride, Pernilla, in her silver-gilt crown and bridal 
 ornaments, had her heartiest sympathy, and Frithiof, hap- 
 
428 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 pening to catch sight of the fiddler standing idly by the 
 churchyard gate when the ceremony was over, brought him 
 into the hotel and set every one dancing. Anna Rasmu- 
 sen, the clever and charming manager of the inn, volun- 
 teered to try the spring dans with Halfstan, the guide. 
 The hamlet was searched for dancers of the hailing^ and 
 the women showed them the pretty jelster and the tretur. 
 
 By degrees all the population of the place crowded in as 
 spectators, and soon Johannes and Pernilla, the bride and 
 bridegroom, made their way through the throng, and, each 
 carrying a decanter, approached the visitors, shook hands 
 with them, and begged that they would drink their health. 
 There was something strangely simple and charming about 
 the whole thing. Such a scene could have been found in 
 no other country save in grand, free old Norway, where 
 false standards of worth are abolished, and where mutual 
 respect and equal rights bind each to each in true brother- 
 hood. 
 
 The day after the wedding they spent at the Brixdals 
 glacier, rowing all together up the lake, but afterward 
 separating, Frithiof and Cecil walking in advance of th* 
 others up the beautiful valley. 
 
 " There will soon be a high-road to this glacier," said 
 Frithiof, " but I am glad they are only beginning it now, 
 and that we have this rough path." 
 
 And Cecil was glad too. She liked the scramble and the 
 little bit of climbing needed here and there ; she loved to 
 feel the strength and protection of Frithiof s hand as he led 
 her over the rocks and boulders. At last, after a long 
 walk, they reached a smooth, grassy oasis, shaded by silver 
 birches and bordered by a river ; beyond, the Brixdalsbrae 
 gleamed white through the trees, with here and there ex- 
 quisite shades of blue visible in the ice even at that 
 distance. 
 
 " This is just like the land of Beulah," said Cecil, smil- 
 ing, " and the glacier is the celestial city. How wonderful 
 those broken pinnacles of ice are ! " 
 
 " Look at these two little streams running side by side 
 for so long and at last joining," said Frithiof. " They are 
 like our two lives. For so many years you have been to 
 me as we should say, J "or tr -b tig" 
 
 " What does that mean ? " she asked. 
 
 " It is untranslatable," he said. " It is that in which one 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN 1 . 429 
 
 puts one's trust and confidence, but more besides. It 
 means exactly what you have always been to me." 
 
 Cecil looked down at the little bunch of forget-me-nots 
 and lilies of the valley the Norwegian national flowers 
 with which Frithiof loved to keep her supplied and the 
 remembrance of all that she had borne during these five 
 years came back to her, and by contrast made the happy 
 present yet sweeter. 
 
 " I think," she said, " I should like Signer Donati to 
 know of our happiness ; he was the first who quite under- 
 stood you." 
 
 " Yes, I must write to him," said Frithiof. " There is 
 no man to whom I owe more." 
 
 And thinking of the Italian's life and character and of his 
 own past, he grew silent. 
 
 " Do you know," he said at length, " there is one thing 
 I want you to do for me. I want you to give me back my 
 regard for the Sogne once more. I want, on our way 
 home, just to pass Balholm again." 
 
 And so one day it happened that they found themselves 
 on the well-remembered fjord, and coming up on deck 
 when dinner was over, saw that already the familiar scenes 
 of the Frithiof Saga were coming into view. 
 
 " Look ! look ! " said Frithiof. " There, far in front of 
 us, is the Kvinnafos, looking like a thread of white on the 
 dark rock and over to the right is Framnaes ! " 
 
 Cecil stood beside him on the upper deck, and gradually 
 the scene unfolded. They saw the little wooded peninsula, 
 the lovely mountains round the Fjaerlands fjord, Mun- 
 keggen itself, with much more snow than during their last 
 visit, and then, once again, King Bele's grave, and the 
 scattered cottages, with their red-tiled roofs, and the 
 familiar hotel, somewhat enlarged, yet recalling a hundred 
 memories. 
 
 Gravely and tnoughtfully Frithiof looked on the little 
 hamlet and on Munkeggen. It was a picture that had 
 been traced on his mind by pleasure and engraved by 
 pain. Cecil drew a little nearer to him, and though no 
 word passed between them, yet intuitively their thoughts 
 turned to one who must forever be associated with those 
 bright days spent in the house of Ole Kvikne long ago. 
 There was no indignation in their thoughts of her, but 
 there was pain, and pity, and hope, and the love which is 
 
430 A HARDY NORSEMAN". 
 
 at once the source and the outcome of forgiveness. They 
 wondered much how matters stood with her out in the far- 
 off southern seas, where she struggled on in a new life, 
 which must always, to the very end, be shadowed by the 
 old. And then Frithiof thought of his father, of his own 
 youth, of the wonderful glamour and gladness that had been 
 doomed so soon to pass into total eclipse, and feeling like 
 some returned ghost, he glided close by the flagstaff, and 
 the grey rocks, and the trees which had sheltered his fare- 
 well to Blanche. A strange and altogether indescribable 
 feeling stole over him, but it was speedily dispelled. There 
 was a link which happily bound his past to his present a 
 memory which nothing could spoil on the quay he 
 instantly perceived the well-remembered faces of the 
 kindly landlord, Ole Kvikne, and his brother Knut. 
 
 " See ! " he exclaimed with a smile, " there are the K viknes 
 looking not a day older ! We must just see if they 
 remember us." 
 
 Did they not remember ? Of course they did ! And 
 what bowing and hand-shaking went on in the brief 
 waiting time. They had heard of Frithiof, moreover, and 
 knew how nobly he had redeemed his father's name. 
 They were enchanted at meeting him once more. 
 
 " Let me have the pleasure, Kvikne, to introduce you to 
 my betrothed, who was also your guest long ago," said 
 Frithiof, taking Cecil's hand and placing it in that of the 
 landlord. 
 
 And the warm congratulations and hearty good wishes of 
 Ole and Knut Kvikne were only cut short by the bell, 
 which warned the travellers that they must hasten up the 
 gangway. 
 
 " We shall come back," said Frithiof. " Another summer 
 we shall stay with you." 
 
 " Yes," said Cecil. " After all there there is nothing equal 
 i^ Balholm. I had forgotten how lovely it was." 
 
 As they glided on they left the little place bathed in 
 sunshine, and in silence they watched it, till at last a bend 
 in the fjord hid it from view. 
 
 Frithiof fell into deep thought. 
 
 What part had that passionate first love of his played in 
 his life-story? Well, it had been to him a curse ; it had 
 dragged him down into depths of despair and to the verge 
 of vice ; it had steeped him in bitterness and filled his 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN*. 431 
 
 heart with anguish. Yet a more perfect love had awaited 
 him a passion less fierce but more tender, less vehement 
 but more lasting ; and all those years Cecil's heart had 
 really been his, though he had so little dreamed of it. 
 
 As if in a picture, he saw the stages through which he 
 had passed the rapture of mere physical existence ; the 
 intolerable pain and humiliation of Blanche's betrayal ; the 
 anguish of bereavement ; the shame of bankruptcy ; the 
 long effort to pay the debts ; the slow return to belief in 
 human beings ; the toilsome steps that had each brought 
 him a clearer knowledge of the Unseen, for which he had 
 once felt no need ; and, finally, this wonderful love spring- 
 ing up like a fountain in his life, ready to gladden his some- 
 what prosaic round of daily work. 
 
 It was evening when they left the steamer at Sogndal, 
 but they were none of them in a mood for settling down, 
 and indeed the weather was so hot that they often preferred 
 travelling after supper. So it was arranged that they should 
 go on to a very primitive little place called Hillestad, sleep 
 there for a few hours, and then proceed to the Lyster 
 fjord. Cecil, who was a much better walker than either 
 Sigrid or Swanhild, was to go on foot with Frithiof; the 
 others secured a stolkjaerre and a carriole, and went on in 
 advance with the luggage. 
 
 The two lovers walked briskly along the side of the 
 fjord, but slackened their pace when they reached the long, 
 sandy hill, with its sharp zigzags ; the evening was still 
 and cloudless ; above them towered huge, rocky cliffs, 
 partly veiled by undergrowth, and all the air was sweet 
 with the scent of the pine trees. They were close to St. 
 Olaf's well, where, from time immemorial, the country 
 people have come to drink and pray for recovery from 
 illness. 
 
 " Don't you think we ought to drink to my future 
 health," said Frithiof. 
 
 He smiled, yet in his eyes she saw all the time the look 
 of sadness that had come to him as they approached 
 Balholm. 
 
 The one sting in his perfect happiness was the thought 
 that he could not bring to Cecil the unbroken health that 
 had once been his. He knew that the strain of his past 
 trouble had left upon him marks which he must carry ro 
 his grave, and that the consequences of Blanche's faithless- 
 
432 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 ness had brought with them a secret anxiety which must to 
 some extent shadow Cecil's life. The knowledge was hard ; 
 it humiliated him. 
 
 Cecil knew him so well that she read his thoughts in an 
 instant. 
 
 " Look at all these little crosses set up in the moss on 
 this rock ! " she exclaimed when they had scrambled up 
 the steep ascent. " I wonder how many hundreds of years 
 this has been the custom ! I wonder how many troubled 
 people have come here to drink ? " 
 
 " And have gained nothing by their superstition ? " said 
 Frith iof. 
 
 " It was superstition," she said thoughtfully. " And yet, 
 perhaps, the sight of the cross and the drinking of the water 
 at least help them to new thoughts of suffering and of life. 
 Who knows, perhaps, some of them went away able to glory 
 in their infirmities?" 
 
 He did not speak for some minutes, but stood lost in the 
 train of thought suggested to him by her words. The sad- 
 ness gradually died out of his face, and she quite under- 
 stood that it was with no trace of superstition, but merely 
 as a sign of gratitude for a thought which had helped him, 
 that he look-two little straight twigs, stooped to drink from 
 St. Olafskilde, and then set up his cross among the others 
 in the mossy wall. After that they clambered down over 
 the boulders into the sandy road once more, and climbed 
 the steep hill leisurely, planning many things for the 
 future the rooms in Rowan Tree House, the little wooden 
 cottage that they meant to build at Godesund, three hours 
 by water from Bergen, on a tiny island, which might be 
 bought at a trifling cost ; the bright holiday weeks that 
 they would spend there ; the work they might share ; the 
 efforts they might make together in their London life. 
 
 But the sharp contrast between this pictured future and 
 the actual past could hardly fail to strike one of Frithiof's 
 temperament ; it was the thought of this which prompted 
 him to speak as they paused to rest on the wooded heights 
 above Hillestad. 
 
 " I almost wonder," he said, " that you have courage 
 to marry such an ill-starred fellow as I have always proved 
 to be. You are very brave to take the risk." 
 
 She answered him only with her eyes. 
 
 " So," he said with a smile, " you think, perhaps, after 
 all the troubles there must be a good time coming?" 
 
A HARDY NORSEMAN. 433 
 
 " That may very well be," she replied, " but now that we 
 belong to each other outer' things matter little." 
 
 " Do you remember the lines about Norway in the Prin- 
 cess ? " he said. " Your love has made them true for me/' 
 
 " Say them now," she said ; " I have forgotten." 
 
 And, looking out over the ruddy sky where, in this night 
 hour, the glow of sunset mingled with the glow of dawn* 
 he quoted the words : 
 
 " I was one 
 
 To whom the touch of all mischance but came 
 As night to him that sitting on a hill 
 Sees the midsummer, midnight, Norway sun 
 Set into sunrise." 
 
 She followed the direction of his gaze, and looked through 
 the fir trees on the hill upon which they were resting, down 
 to the lovely lake which lay below them like a sheet or 
 mother-of-pearl in the tranquil light. She looked beyone. 
 to the grand cliff-like mountains with their snowy tops 
 touched here and there into the most exquisite rose-colour 
 by the rising sun ; and then she turned back to the strong 
 Norse face with its clearly-cut features, its look of strength, 
 and independence, and noble courage, and her heart 
 throbbed with joy as she thought how foreign to it was 
 that hard, bitter expression of the past. As he repeated 
 the words " Set into sunrise " his eyes met hers fully; ail 
 Jhe tenderness and strength of his nature and an infinite 
 promise of future possibilities seemed to strike down into 
 her very soul in that glance. He drew her toward him, 
 and over both of them there stole the strange calm which 
 is sometimes the outcome of strong feeling. 
 
 All nature seemed full of perfect peace ; and with the 
 sight of those snowy mountains and the familiar scent of 
 the pines to tell him that he was indeed in his own country, 
 with Cecil's loving presence to assure him of his new pos- 
 session, and with a peace in his heart which had first come 
 to him in bitter humiliation and trouble, Frithiof, too, was 
 at rest. 
 
 After all, what were the possible trials that lay before 
 them ? What was all earthly pain ? Looked at in a true 
 light, suffering seemed, indeed, but as this brief northern 
 night, and death but as the herald of eternal day. 
 
434 A HARDY NORSEMAN. 
 
 " Cecil,' 1 said Frithiof, looking again into her sweet, 
 ^rave eyes, " who would have thought that the Linjicea 
 gathered all those years ago should prove the first link in 
 the chain that was to bind us together forever? " 
 
 " It was strange," she replied, with a smile, as she 
 gathered one [of the long trails growing close by and 
 looked at the lovely little white bells with their. pink 
 veins. 
 
 He took it from her and began to twine it in her hair. 
 
 " I didn't expect to find it here," he said, " and brought 
 a fine plant of it from Nord fjord. We "must take it home 
 with us that you may have some for your bridal wreath." 
 
 She made a little exclamation of doubt. 
 
 " Why, Frithiof ? How long do you think it will go on 
 flowering ? " 
 
 " For another month," he said, taking her glowing face 
 between his hands and stooping to kiss herl 
 
 " Only a month ! " she faltered. 
 
 " Surely that will be long enough to read the JSajinsj* " 
 Sic said with a smile. " And you really oughtlnot 
 the JLintusa waiting a day longer." 
 

 1