With that rush of brilliant effulgence, the apparently
lifeless Sigurd stirred,--he opened his eyes, and as they were turned
upwards, he naturally, from his close vicinity to the side of the
_Eulalie_, met Errington's gaze fixed inquiringly and somewhat anxiously
upon him. He sprang up with such sudden and fierce haste that his frail
boat rocked dangerously and Philip involuntarily cried out--
"Take care!"
Sigurd stood upright in his swaying skiff and laughed scornfully.
"Take care!" he echoed derisively. "It is you who should take care!
You,--poor miserable moth on the edge of a mad storm! It is you to
fear--not I! See how the light rains over the broad sky. All for me!
Yes, all the light, all the glory for me; all the darkness, all the
shame for you!"
Errington listened to these ravings with an air of patience and pitying
gentleness, then he said with perfect coolness--
"You are quite right, Sigurd! You are always right, I am sure. Come up
here and see me; I won't hurt you! Come along!"
The friendly tone and gentle manner appeared to soothe the unhappy
dwarf, for he stared doubtfully, then smiled,--and finally, as though
acting under a spell, he took up an oar and propelled himself skillfully
enough to the gangway, where Errington let down the ladder and with his
own hand assisted his visitor to mount, not forgetting to fasten the
boat safely to the steps as he did so.
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