thought the young baronet with a smile, amused at the little man's
evident excitement. "Very polite of him, I'm sure! But, after all, I
had no business here. I'd better apologize." And forthwith he began
to speak in the simplest English words he could choose, taking care
to pronounce them very slowly and distinctly.

"I cannot understand you, my good sir; but I see you are angry. I
came here by accident. I am going away now at once."

His explanation had a strange effect. The dwarf drew nearer, twirled
himself rapidly round three times as though waltzing; then, holding
his torch a little to one side, turned up his thin, pale
countenance, and, fixing his gaze on Sir Philip, studied every
feature of his face with absorbing interest. Then he burst into a
violent fit of laughter.

"At last--at last?" he cried in fluent English. "Going now? Going,
you say? Never! never! You will never go away any more. No, not
without something stolen! The dead have summoned you here! Their
white bony fingers have dragged you across the deep! Did you not
hear their voices, cold and hollow as the winter wind, calling,
calling you, and saying, 'Come, come, proud robber, from over the
far seas; come and gather the beautiful rose of the northern
forest'? Yes, Yes! You have obeyed the dead--the dead who feign
sleep, but are ever wakeful;--you have come as a thief in the golden
midnight, and the thing you seek is the life of Sigurd! Yes--yes! it
is true. The spirit cannot lie. You must kill, you must steal! See
how the blood drips, drop by drop, from the heart of Sigurd! And the
jewel you steal--ah, what a jewel!--you shall not find such another
in Norway!"