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Then an odd fancy
seized him, and he called loudly--
"Thelma!"
"Thelma!" shouted the echo.
"Is that her name?"
"Her name!" replied the echo.
"I thought so!" And Philip laughed again, while the echo laughed wildly
in answer. "Just the sort of name to suit a Norwegian nymph or goddess.
_Thelma_ is quaint and appropriate, and as far as I can remember there's
no rhyme to it in the English language. _Thelma_!" And he lingered on
the pronunciation of the strange word with a curious sensation of
pleasure. "There is something mysteriously suggestive about the sound of
it; like a chord of music played softly in the distance. Now, can I get
through this door, I wonder?"
He pushed it gently. It yielded very slightly, and he tried again and
yet again. Finally, he put down the lamp and set his shoulder against
the wooden barrier with all his force. A dull creaking sound rewarded
his efforts, and inch by inch the huge door opened into what at first
appeared immeasurable darkness.


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