Errington, astonished to see him there, called softly-- "Sigurd! Sigurd!" There was no answer; Sigurd's form seemed inanimate--his eyes remained fast shut.
"Is he in a trance ?" thought Sir Philip wonderingly; "or has he fainted from some physical exhaustion ?" He called again, but again received no reply.

He now observed in the stem of the boat a large bunch of pansies, dark as velvet, and evidently freshly gathered,--proving that Sigurd had been wandering in the deep valleys and on the sloping sides of the hills, where these flowers may be frequently found in Norway during the summer.

He began to feel rather uncomfortable, as he watched that straight stiff figure in the boat, and was just about to swing down the companion-ladder for the purpose of closer inspection, when a glorious burst of light streamed radiantly over the Fjord,--the sun conquered the masses of dark cloud that had striven to conceal his beauty, and now,--like a warrior clad in golden armor, surmounted and trod down his enemies, shining forth in all his splendor.

With that rush of brilliant effulgence, the apparently lifeless Sigurd stirred,--he opened his eyes, and as they were turned upwards, he naturally, from his close vicinity to the side of the _Eulalie_, met Errington's gaze fixed inquiringly and somewhat anxiously upon him.

He sprang up with such sudden and fierce haste that his frail boat rocked dangerously and Philip involuntarily cried out-- "Take care!" Sigurd stood upright in his swaying skiff and laughed scornfully.
"Take care!" he echoed derisively.