"It is you who should take care! You,--poor miserable moth on the edge of a mad storm! It is you to fear--not I! See how the light rains over the broad sky.

All for me! Yes, all the light, all the glory for me; all the darkness, all the shame for you!" Errington listened to these ravings with an air of patience and pitying gentleness, then he said with perfect coolness-- "You are quite right, Sigurd! You are always right, I am sure.

Come up here and see me; I won't hurt you! Come along!" The friendly tone and gentle manner appeared to soothe the unhappy dwarf, for he stared doubtfully, then smiled,--and finally, as though acting under a spell, he took up an oar and propelled himself skillfully enough to the gangway, where Errington let down the ladder and with his own hand assisted his visitor to mount, not forgetting to fasten the boat safely to the steps as he did so.

Once on deck, Sigurd gazed about him perplexedly.

He had brought his bunch of pansies with him, and he fingered their soft leaves thoughtfully.