Once on deck, Sigurd gazed about
him perplexedly. He had brought his bunch of pansies with him, and he
fingered their soft leaves thoughtfully. Suddenly his eyes flashed.
"You are alone here?" he asked abruptly.
Fearing to scare his strange guest by the mention of his companions,
Errington answered simply--"Yes, quite alone just now, Sigurd."
Sigurd took a step closer towards him. "Are you not afraid?" he said in
an awe-struck, solemn voice.
Sir Philip smiled. "I never was afraid of anything in my life!" he
answered.
The dwarf eyed him keenly. "You are not afraid," he went on, "that I
shall kill you?"
"Not in the least," returned Errington calmly. "You would not do
anything so foolish, my friend."
Sigurd laughed. "Ha ha! You call me 'friend.' You think that word a
safeguard! I tell you, no! There are no friends now; the world is a
great field of battle,--each man fights the other. There is no
peace,--none anywhere! The wind fights with the forests; you can hear
them slashing and slaying all night long--when it _is_ night--the long,
long night! The sun fights with the sky, the light with the dark, and
life with death.
Pages:
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185