Thelma!" he exclaimed, in low tones. "Is it possible that
you have seen her?"

"Ah, George, what do you say now?" cried Errington delightedly. "Yes,
yes, Valdemar; the Froeken Thelma, as you call her. Who is she? . . .
What is she?--and how can there be no pretty girls in Bosekop if such a
beautiful creature as she lives there?"

Valdemar looked troubled and vexed.

"Truly, I thought not of the maiden," he said gravely. "'Tis not for me
to speak of the daughter of Olaf," here his voice sank a little, and his
face grew more and more sombre. "Pardon me, sir, but how did you meet
her?"

"By accident," replied Errington promptly, not caring to relate his
morning's adventure for the pilot's benefit. "Is she some great
personage here?"

Svensen sighed, and smiled somewhat dubiously.

"Great? Oh, no; not what you would call great. Her father, Olaf Gueldmar,
is a _bonde_,--that is, a farmer in his own right. He has a goodly
house, and a few fair acres well planted and tilled,--also he pays his
men freely,--but those that work for him are all he sees,--neither he
nor his daughter ever visit the town. They dwell apart, and have nothing
in common with their neighbors."

"And where do they live?" asked Lorimer, becoming as interested as he
had formerly been incredulous.

The pilot leaned lightly over the rail of the deck and pointed towards
the west.

"You see that great rock shaped like a giant's helmet, and behind it a
high green knoll, clustered thick with birch and pine?"

They nodded assent.

"At the side of the knoll is the _bonde's_ house, a good eight-mile walk
from the outskirts of Bosekop. Should you ever seek to rest there,
gentlemen," and Svensen spoke with quiet resolution, "I doubt whether
you will receive a pleasant welcome."

And he looked at them both with an inquisitive air, as though seeking to
discover their intentions.

"Is that so?" drawled Lorimer lazily, giving his friend an expressive
nudge. "Ah! _We_ shan't trouble them! Thanks for your information,
Valdemar! We don't intend to hunt up the--what d'ye call him?--the
_bonde_, if he's at all surly. Hospitality that gives you greeting and a
dinner for nothing,--that's what suits _me_."

"Our people are not without hospitality," said the pilot, with a touch
of wistful and appealing dignity. "All along your journey, gentlemen,
you have been welcomed gladly, as you know. But Olaf Gueldmar is not like
the rest of us; he has the pride and fiercen