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"You, like others, must have known that Olaf Gueldmar's creed was a strange one his burial has been strange that is all!" And she skillfully turned the conversation, and began to talk of Thelma, her sorrows and sufferings. Britta was most impatient to see her beloved "Froeken," and quite grudged Sir Philip the long time he remained alone with his wife.
To the shore they at once betook themselves, and were soon busied in unmooring Gueldmar's own rowing-boat, which, as it had not been used for some time, was rather a tedious business, moreover they noted with concern that the tide was dead against them. Duprez did not appear, the truth is, that he had taken into his head to start off for Talvig on foot without waiting for the others.
"The strong pine rafters of Olaf Gueldmar's dwelling shall be kindled into flame to light the hills with crimson, far and near! Not a plank shall be spared! not a vestige of his pride be left " "Stop!" said Thelma quietly. "What do you mean? You must both be very mad or very wicked! You want us to go away you threaten to set fire to our home why? We have done you no harm.
And Lorimer, after uttering this unmeaning exclamation, was silent out of sheer dismay. He stood hesitating and looking in at the door of the Gueldmar's sitting-room, and the alarming spectacle he saw was the queenly Thelma down on the floor in an attitude of grief, Thelma giving way to little smothered sobs of distress, Thelma actually crying! He drew a long breath and stared, utterly bewildered.
Enough said I will ask no more but if Olaf Gueldmar's ship's has gone, and he with it, I warn you, the village will wonder." "I cannot help it," said Svensen with cold brevity. "I have spoken truth he has gone! I saw him die and then vanish. Believe it or not as you will, I care not!" And he drove on in silence. Ulrika was silent too.
In a few words Svensen related all that had happened, with the exception of the fire-burial in the Fjord. But Ulrika immediately asked, "Is his body still in the house?" Svensen looked at her darkly. "Hast thou never heard Ulrika," he said solemnly, "that the bodies of men who follow Olaf Gueldmar's creed, disappear as soon as the life departs from them? It is a mystery strange and terrible!
Out of the reach of the encroaching waters, high and dry on the beach, was Gueldmar's brig, the Valkyrie, transformed by the fingers of the frost into a white ship, fantastically draped with threads of frozen snow and pendent icicles.
"Do you know any one of the name of Sigurd?" he was saying, "a poor fellow whose wits are in heaven let us hope, for they certainly are not on earth." Olaf Gueldmar's fine face softened with pity, and he replied "Sigurd? Have you met him then? Ah, poor boy, his is a sad fate! He has wit enough, but it works wrongly; the brain is there, but 'tis twisted.
"Nay, bonde, we do not believe that the Lord accepteth murderers, without they repent themselves of their backslidings, but if with penitence they turn to Him even at the eleventh hour, haply they may be numbered among the elect." Gueldmar's eyes flashed. "I know not thy creed, woman, nor care to learn it! But, all the same, thou art deceived in thy vain imaginings.
Great was his amazement, and discomfiture to see the magnificent yacht moving majestically out of the Fjord, with Gueldmar's brig in tow behind her, and the English flag fluttering gaily from her middle-mast, as she curtsied her farewell to the dark mountains, and glided swiftly over the little hissing waves. Had Mr.
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