Stay!" and his eyes grew vague and dreamy.

"Why was I sent to seek you out--let me think--let me think!" And he seated himself forlornly on one of the deck chairs and seemed painfully endeavoring to put his scattered ideas in order.

Errington studied him with a gentle forbearance; inwardly he was very curious to know whether this Sigurd had any connection with the Gueldmars, but he refrained from asking too many questions.

He simply said in a cheery tone-- "Yes, Sigurd,--why did you come to see me?
I'm glad you did; it's very kind of you, but I don't think you even know my name." To his surprise, Sigurd looked up with a more settled and resolved expression of face, and answered almost as connectedly as any sane man could have done.
"I know your name very well," he said in a low composed manner.

"You are Sir Philip Errington, a rich English nobleman.