Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1897-04-22
Continued.)

Of it. Its a very creditable crammer,
due to Chartreuse. Might have been
designed by Victor Hugo; it's in his
style. Scene, Norway-m
Mysterious maiden steals out of a cave
and glides away in boat over the
water; man, the hero, goes into cave
finds a stone coffin, says-'Qu 'est-ee
que c'est? Dieu! C'est la mort" Spec
tacle affreux! Staggers back perspir-
ing; meets mad dwarf with torch; mad
dwarf talks a good deal-mad people
always do-then yells and runs away
Man comes out of cave and-and-goes
home to astonish his friends; one of
them won't be astonished-that's met
~ don't Gre" said Errington. ITS
a true story for all that. Only, say
don't talk If 1t before the others; let's
keep our own counsel"
mo poachers allowed on the Sun
Angel Manor!' interrupted Lorimer
gravely Philip went on without heed
ing him.
I'll question Valdemar Svensen after
breakfast. He knows everybody about
here. Come and have smoke on deck
when l give you the sign. and We'll
ross-eXamine him."
Lorimer still looked incredulous.
Whats the good Of ito" he inquired
languidly. Even If it's all true you
had much better leave this goddess, or
whatever you call her, alone, especially
il she has any mad connections. What
do you want with herr"
"Nothing!' declared Errington,
though his color heightened. Moth
ing, assure you! It's just matter
Of curiosity with me. l should like
to know who she is-that's ALL The
affair won't go any further
How do you know" and Lorimer
began to brush his stiff curly hair with
a sort of vicious vigor. How can you
tell? I'm not a spiritualst, nor any
sort OF humbug at all, l hope, but |
sometimes indulge in presentiments.
Before we started on this cruise, | was
haunted by that dismal old ballod OF
Sir Patrick Spens-
The Kings daughter of Norway.
IT'S thou mat n bring her hame"
And here you have found her, or so
it appears. WHAT'S to come of it, I
wonder?"
"Nothing's to come of it; nothing
will come of it," laughed Philip. "As
| told you, she said she was peasant.
There's the breakfast-bell! Make
haste, old boy, I'm as hungry as a
hunter"
And he left his friend to finish dress
ing, and entered the salon, where he
greeted his two other companions, Alec,
or as he was often called, Sandy Mac
farlane and Pierre DupreZ; the former
an Oxford student-the latter a young
fellow whose acquaintance he had made
in Paris, and with whom he had kept
up constant and friendly intercourse.
A greater contrast than these two
presented could scarcely be imagined.
Macfarlane was tall and ungainly, with
large loose joints that seemed to pro-
trude angularly out of him in every
directiOn-DupreZ was short, slight and
wiz, with dapper and by no means
unsraceful figure. The two had formal
gauche manners, a GLASGOW accent and
a slow, infinitely tedious method of eX
pressing himself-the other was full
OF restless movement and pantomimic
gesture, and being proud of his English
plunged into that language recklessly
making it curiously light AMI fippant
though picturesque, as he went. Mac
farane was destined to become a shin
ing light of the established Church OF
Scotland, and therefore took life very
seriously, Duprez was the spoilt and only
child of an eminent French banker,
and had very little 20 do but enjoy
himself, and that he did most thorough
the future On all points Of taste and
opinion they differed widely; but there
was no doubt about their both being
eoodhearted fellows, without any af-
fectation OF abnormal vice or virtue.
80 you did not climb Jedke after
ALL remarked Errington, laughingly,
as thov seated themselves at the bresk-
fast table
MY friend, what would you" cried
Duprez. Il have not said that | will
ClIulD II, no! / never SAY ludL VIII
do anything, because I'm not sure OF
myself. How can l be? 1t is that
cher enfant, Lorimer, that said such
brave words! See-we arrive we be-
hold the shore-all black, great. vast,
rocks like needles. and, higher than
all, this most fierce Jedke-bah, What
name!-straight as the spire OF
cathedral. One must be a fly to crawl
up 1t. and we, we are not flies-no,
Lorimer, he laugh, he yawn-so, He
say, not for me today; I very much
thank YOU And then, we watch the
SIN. All that was grand. glorious
beautiful And Duprez kissed the
tips OF his fingers in ecstacy.
What did you think about t. San
~" asked Sir Philip.
Il didna think much" responded
Macfarlane. shortly. ITS no sac grand
a sight as sunset In Skye And its
an uncanny busiress to see the sun
losin' a his poouctooality, and remain
in stock still. as It were. when It's his
plain duty to set below the horizon