exaggerations of heated fancy; and, had he read in some book, of a
respectable nineteenth-century yachtsman having such an interview
with a madman in a sea-cavern, he would have laughed at the affair
as an utter improbability, though he could not have explained why he
considered it improbable. But now it had occurred to himself, he was
both surprised and amused at the whole circumstance; moreover, he
was sufficiently interested and carious to be desirous of sifting
the matter to its foundation.

It was, however, somewhat of a relief to him when he again readied
the outer cavern. He replaced the lamp on the shelf where he had
found it, and stepped once more into the brilliant light of the very
early dawn, which then had all the splendor of full morning. There
was a deliciously balmy wind, the blue sky was musical with a chorus
of larks, and every breath of air that waved aside the long grass
sent forth a thousand odors from hidden beds of wild thyme and bog-
myrtle.

He perceived the Eulalie at anchor in her old place on the Fjord;
she had returned while he was absent on his explorations. Gathering
together his rug and painting materials, he blew a whistle sharply
three times; he was answered from the yacht, and presently a boat,
manned by a couple of sailors, came skimming over the water towards
him. It soon reached the shore, and, entering it, he was speedily
rowed away from the scene of his morning's experience back to his
floating palace, where, as yet, none of his friends were stirring.

"How about Jedke?" he inquired of one of his men. "Did they climb
it?"