neither he nor his daughter ever visit the town. They dwell apart,
and have nothing in common with their neighbors."

"And where do they live?" asked Lorimer, becoming as interested as
he had formerly been incredulous.

The pilot leaned lightly over the rail of the deck and pointed
towards the west.

"You see that great rock shaped like a giant's helmet, and behind it
a high green knoll, clustered thick with birch and pine?"

They nodded assent.

"At the side of the knoll is the bonde's house, a good eight-mile
walk from the outskirts of Bosekop. Should you ever seek to rest
there, gentlemen," and Svensen spoke with quiet resolution, "I doubt
whether you will receive a pleasant welcome."

And he looked at them both with an inquisitive air, as though
seeking to discover their intentions.

"Is that so?" drawled Lorimer lazily, giving his friend an
expressive nudge. "Ah! WE shant trouble them! Thanks for your
information, Valdemar! We don't intend to hunt up the--what d'ye
call him?--the bonde, if he's at all surly. Hospitality that gives
you greeting and a dinner for nothing,--that's what suits ME."

"Our people are not without hospitality," said the pilot, with a
touch of wistful and appealing dignity. "All along your journey,