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"I suppose I _was_ rude," he considered after a while. "She seemed to
think so, at any rate. By Jove! what a crushing look she gave me! A
peasant? Not she! If she had said she was an empress I shouldn't have
been much surprised. But a mere common peasant, with that regal figure
and those white hands! I don't believe it. Perhaps our pilot, Valdemar,
knows who she is; I must ask him."
All at once he bethought himself of the cave whence she had emerged. It
was close at hand--a natural grotto, arched and apparently lofty. He
resolved to explore it. Glancing at his watch he saw it was not yet one
o'clock in the morning, yet the voice of the cuckoo called shrilly from
the neighboring hills, and a circling group of swallows flitted around
him, their lovely wings glistening like jewels in the warm light of the
ever-wakeful sun. Going to the entrance of the cave, he looked in. It
was formed of rough rock, hewn out by the silent work of the water, and
its floor was strewn thick with loose pebbles and polished stones.


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