fided to the negligence of the underground
people, she proceeded to an eminence where two or three of her cows were
grazing, and there sounded her lure. She put her whole strength to it,
in hope that others, besides the cattle, might appear in answer; for she
was really anxious to see her master.

The peculiar and far from musical sounds did spread wide over the
pastures, and up the slopes, and through the distant woods, so that the
cattle of another seater stood to listen, and her own cows began to
move,--leaving the sweetest tufts of grass, and rising up from their
couches in the richest herbage, to converge towards the point whence she
called. The far-off herdsman observed to his fellow that there was a
new call among the pastures; and Erlingsen, on the upland, desired Jan
and Stiorna to finish cocking the hay, and began his descent to his
seater, to learn whether Erica had brought any news from home.

Long before he could appear, Frolich stole out trembling, and looking
round her at every step. When she saw Erica, she flew over the grass,
and threw herself down in it at Erica's feet.

"Where is he?" she whispered. "Has he come back?"

"I have not seen him. I dare say he is as far off by this time as the
Black Tarn, where I met with him."

"The Black Tarn! And do you mean that--no, you cannot mean that you
came all the way together from the Black Tarn hither. Did you run? Did
you fly? Did you shriek? Oh, what did you do?--with a pirate at your
heels!"

"By my side," said Erica. "We walked and talked."

"With a pirate! But how did you know it was a pirate? Did he tell you
so?"

"No: and at first I thought,"--and she sank her voice into a reverential
whisper,--"I thought for some time it was the demon of this place. When
I found it was only a pirate, I did not mind."

"Only a pirate! Did not mind!" exclaimed Frolich. "You are the
strangest girl! You are the most perverse creature! You think nothing
of a pirate walking at your elbow for miles, and you would make a slave
of yourself and me about these underground people, that my father laughs
at, and that nobody ever saw.--Ah! you say nothing aloud; but I know you
are saying in your own mind, `Remember the Bishop of Tronyem's cattle.'"

"You want news," said Erica, avoiding, as usual, all conversation about
her superstitions. "How will it please you that the bishop is coming?"

"Very much, if we had any chance of seeing him. Very much, whe