To the last, as his eyes closed drowsily, he seemed to hear
the slow drip, drip of the water behind the rocky cavern, and the
desolate cry of the incomprehensible Sigurd, while through these sounds
that mingled with the gurgle of little waves lapping against the sides
of the _Eulalie_, the name of "Thelma" murmured itself in his ears till
slumber drowned his senses in oblivion.
CHAPTER III.
"Hast any mortal name,
Fit appellation for this dazzling frame,
Or friends or kinsfolk on the citied earth?"
KEATS.
"This is positively absurd," murmured Lorimer, in mildly injured tones,
seven hours later, as he sat on the edge of his berth, surveying
Errington, who, fully dressed, and in the highest spirits, had burst in
to upbraid him for his laziness while he was yet but scantily attired.
"I tell you, my good fellow, there are some things which the utmost
stretch of friendship will _not_ stand. Here am I in shirt and trousers
with only one sock on, and you dare to say you have had an adventure!
Why, if you had cut a piece out of the sun, you ought to wait till a man
is shaved before mentioning it.
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