ve--_hic_--worked out the problem with--_hic_--care!' And
he would shake me by the hand warmly, with a mild and moist smile, and
would retire to bed walking sideways in the most amiable manner. I'm
certain his ideas were correct as well as luminous."

They laughed, and then looking up saw that they were passing a portion
of the coast of Seiland which was more than usually picturesque. Facing
them was a great cavernous cleft in the rocks, tinted with a curious
violet hue intermingled with bronze,--and in the strong sunlight these
colors flashed with the brilliancy of jewels, reflecting themselves in
the pale slate-colored sea. By Errington's orders the yacht slackened
speed, and glided along with an almost noiseless motion,--and they were
silent, listening to the dash and drip of water that fell invisibly from
the toppling crags that frowned above, while the breathless heat and
stillness of the air added to the weird solemnity of the scene. They all
rose from their chairs and leaned on the deck-rails, looking, but
uttering no word.

"In one of these islands," said Thelma at last, very softly--"it was
either Seiland or Soroe--they once found the tomb of a great chief.
There was an inscription outside that warned all men to respect it, but
they laughed at the warning and opened the tomb. And they saw, seated in
a stone chair, a skeleton with a gold crown on its head and a great
carved seal in its hand, and at its feet there was a stone casket. The
casket was broken open, and it was full of gold and jewels. Well, they
took all the gold and jewels, and buried the skeleton--and now,--do you
know what happens? At midnight a number of strange persons are seen
searching on the shore and among the rocks for the lost treasure, and it
is said they often utter cries of anger and despair. And those who
robbed the tomb all died suddenly."

"Served them right!" said Lorimer. "And now they are dead, I suppose the
wronged ghosts don't appear any more?"

"Oh yes, they do," said Gueldmar very seriously. "If any sailor passes at
midnight, and sees them or hears their cries, he is doomed."

"But _does_ he see or hear them?" asked Errington, with a smile.

"Well, I don't know," returned Gueldmar, with a grave shake of his head.
"I'm not superstitious myself, but I should be sorry to say anything
against the berg-folk. You see they _may_ exist, and it's no use
offending them."

"And what do ye mean by the berg-folk?" inquired Macfarlane