into a little cove, and the passenger jumped
ashore. Charon stood deferentially touching his weather-stained hat,
too much mystified to speak. But the fare which Helwyse handed him
restored his voice.

"Thank yer, Captain,--thank yer kindly!--hope no offence, Captain,--a
chap picks up a deal of gossip in twenty year, and--"

"No offence in the world!" cried Helwyse; "I take you for a powerful
enchanter, who seems to steer one way, when he is in fact taking his
passenger in another. Where are you bound?"

"Well, I was dropping down a bit to see if the schooner ain't around
yet. She'd ought to be in by now, if nothing ain't runned into her in
the fog."

Helwyse paused a moment, eying Charon sharply. "The schooner
'Resurrection,'" he began, and, seeing he had hit the mark, continued,
"was run into last night on Long Island Sound, and had her bowsprit
carried away. But no serious damage was done, and she'll be in by
night, if the wind holds."

With this he bade the awe-stricken old yarn-spinner farewell, and,
with secret laughter at his bewilderment, turned to the narrow zigzag
path that climbed the bank, passing the birch-stump champion without a
glance of recognition. A few vigorous minutes brought him to the
summit, whence, facing round, he saw the broad river crawl beneath
him; the little boat, with Charon in the stern, drift downwards; and
beyond, the whole rough length of Manhattan Island.

A few days before Thor Helwyse's departure for Europe (some four years
after his wife's death) he had left a certain little boy and girl in
charge of the nurse,--a woman in whose faithfulness he placed the
utmost confidence,--and had crossed from Brooklyn to New Jersey, to
say good by to Brother Hiero. Returning at night he found one of the
children--his son Balder--locked up in the nursery; the nurse and the
little girl had disappeared, nor did Thor again set eyes on either of
them.

Balder, as he grew up, often questioned his father concerning various
events which had happened beyond the reach of his childish memory; and
among other stories, no doubt this of the farewell visit to Uncle
Glyphic had been often told with all the details. By no miracle,
therefore, but simply by an acute mental process, associating together
time, place, and description, was Balder enabled so to dumfounder old
Charon.

Embarking on a phantom quest, his brain full of whimsical visions,
Balder had thus unexpectedly stepped into the path of hi