The latter shrunk before the indignant glance of the youth. The flush of anger and the paleness of terror alternately played upon his countenance, and it was dreadful to see the two manly forms confronting each other with looks of enmity and defiance.

The fearful silence was interrupted by Arwed. 'I have overheard your conversation with Siquier, colonel,' said he, 'and, as you know how strong was the love I bore the king, you will not be surprised when I declare to you that we must fight!'

'You have an especial pa.s.sion for pistol-shooting!' calmly and jestingly replied Megret. 'Probably you wish to revive the custom of the ancient pagans, with whom the companions in arms of a hero prince reciprocally slaughtered each other on his grave; as an evidence of their love and respect for him.'

'Name your time and place!' cried Arwed, whose anger was increased by his insolent witticisms.

'Eight days from this, about the same hour,' answered Megret, after some little reflection, 'in the first iron mine of Danemora.'

'That is a late and distant rendezvous,' said Arwed. 'You will not let me wait for you there in vain?'

The Frenchman's eyes flashed, and in his anger he resembled an evil spirit in the human form. 'Young man!' he cried, 'doubt every thing--doubt even of Megret's eternal salvation--but doubt not his word or his courage,--or you will compel him to annihilate you even against his will.' And with a proud step he left the garden.

CHAPTER LI.

Some days later, Arwed, prepared for his journey, approached the sick bed of his uncle to take leave of him.

'You are going once more to Danemora?' asked the old man. 'What occasion calls you there?'

'I wish to see how it goes with the poor Christine,' answered Arwed, unwilling to disturb the sick man by naming the true motive.

'You are deceiving me,' said the old man reprovingly. 'Your business is of a more unpleasant nature. You have executed the charge I gave you.

Megret has left us, and your journey relates to him. Danemora is only a pretext to keep me in ignorance.'

'Truly no,' answered Arwed. 'Megret has appointed it for our place of meeting.'

'Is it so!' cried the old man. 'I am sorry for it, and have a thousand times repented of the charge I gave you. It would be a dreadful thing if you should fall in this miserable combat. You can and must yet become right useful to your father-land. Promise me at least that you will pursue this affair no further than honor absolutely demands.'

'Forgive me, dear uncle,' said Arwed. 'I cannot give you that promise.

But one of us will leave the field alive. Yet quiet yourself with the a.s.surance that it was not your request, with which indeed there was no necessity for my compliance, which occasions this duel; it has a more weighty cause.

'What can that be?' doubtingly replied the uncle.

'Excuse my naming it to you,' answered Arwed. 'I fight not for our house, nor for my own honor. I fight for Sweden!'

'Go then, bold combatant, and may G.o.d fight with you!' cried the old man. 'It is possible you may not find me alive when you return. For which reason receive now my thanks for your filial love and truth. That I consider myself your father in the full sense of the word, my testament, which I have already deposited with the high court at Stockholm, will inform you. I have also written to your father and to the queen. You must become my successor in the government of West Bothnia.'

'Never!' cried Arwed, impetuously.

'You must!' persisted his uncle. 'Not for love of the queen, nor for your own advantage; but for the welfare of this province. I may be permitted to say that with me the office has been in good hands, and I am unwilling that an unworthy courtier or unfeeling soldier should demolish what has cost me so many long years to build up. You are intelligent, brave and good; and you have, with me, become familiar with the civil duties. You are the most suitable person, and you must be governor; where the happiness of the people is concerned, anger, vindictiveness, and similar trifling hindrances, must not dare to raise their heads in such a heart as yours.'

'My dear uncle!' said the yielding Arwed, and kneeling down before the bed, he kissed the invalid's wasted hand.

'G.o.d bless thee, my son!' said the latter, laying his hand upon the youth's head.

'And also the poor Christine! is it not so?' asked Arwed.'

'Tell her--I--do not curse her!' cried the old man with a severe struggle; 'and now leave me. These feelings are too strong for my exhausted powers.'

He turned his face to the wall, and Arwed departed in sadness.

CHAPTER LII.

At the appointed hour Arwed entered the shaft of the first mine in Danemora, with his pistols under his arm. In consequence of the perfect mental repose with which he proceeded upon his b.l.o.o.d.y business, he had this time a better opportunity to look about him and observe the peculiarities of the monstrous cavity. A strange feeling seized him when he took a nearer view of the active operations of this subterranean world. The miserable huts and wooden booths here and there erected among the rocks; the larger hut with a small belfry which denoted the church of the immense abyss; the market, which the venders of the indispensable necessaries of life, attracted by all-powerful avarice, held here below; the ceaseless prosecution of the mining operations--gave to the whole scene the appearance of an abortive attempt to create a subterranean city; while the black dresses and earth colored faces of the perpetual residents of these melancholy regions were well calculated to strengthen the illusion. The whole was lighted only by pans of pitch which fumed and smoked here and there in their elevated niches. No glimmer of daylight penetrated there. The firmament of these abodes was the roof of the mines, which, indeed, had no sun, but had its fixed and wandering stars in the fires, torches and lamps of the workmen--and, in the frequent explosions which took place, their thunder and lightning, like the upper world. Arwed bent his course directly to the little edifice which served for the church, and upon reaching it discovered in its rear a small building, which rather more than the others deserved the name of a house. It was the dwelling of the clergyman. Upon entering he discovered Christine, whom sorrow and confinement had rendered still more pale and emaciated, busily plying her needle by lamp light.

'Ah, Arwed!' cried she overjoyed, and springing towards him she held out her bandaged hand as before. A dark cloud soon flitted over her beautiful countenance, and she asked distrustfully, 'have you no secret object in this visit?'

'A very secret and serious one,' answered Arwed--'from which, however, you have nothing to fear. On the contrary, I bring you your father's permission to remain here, the consolation that your child is well attended to, and the a.s.surance of a pecuniary allowance sufficient to preserve you from want.'

'And I have to thank you, still you, for all these blessings!' cried Christine with grateful enthusiasm. 'Ah, how happy you make me, and at the same time how inexpressibly unhappy!'

'Poor Christine!' said he with deep sympathy--'How miserable has the vehemence of thy nature rendered thee!'

He laid his pistols upon, the table, and listened to ascertain if any one was approaching.

'You said just now,' remarked Christine sorrowfully, 'that a secret and serious purpose brought you here. I hope those weapons which you have brought with you into this peaceful hut, have no connection with it?'

Arwed walked silently to the window and looked impatiently out into the eternal night.

'Do you apprehend any further malice from my husband?' Christine anxiously asked. 'I will be answerable for him with my life. He reveres you as our guardian angel. Moreover he has become much better in this abode of darkness than he was in the upper world; and should I with the aid of time be enabled to banish the deep sorrow which still constantly hovers about him, I have reason to hope that we may once more attain to something like happiness.'

Arwed, who had scarcely listened to the poor sufferer, now suddenly asked, 'has not Megret been recently here?'

'Do you then seek him?' cried Christine with astonishment. 'Yes, he was here scarcely an hour since. He caused Mac Donalbain to be called from his labor, and retired far into the mine in private and earnest conversation with him. I had already become somewhat alarmed on account of their long absence. Megret is a fiend, and bears the most bitter hatred towards my husband.'

At this moment Arwed heard voices from without. He raised the window, and to his astonishment saw Megret arm in arm with Mac Donalbain and in earnest conversation with an old clerk of the mine.

'I repeat it my friend,' said Megret, 'your way of exploding is bad.

Greater results may be produced with half the labor and powder, when one begins right.'

'I have all proper respect for your mathematical sciences, sir officer,' the clerk peevishly answered; 'but still I think that we, who are in constant practice here, must better understand how to obtain the ore than you can by theoretical calculations.'

'Must not the engineer be also familiar with the practice?' asked Megret. 'Our mines traverse every variety of earth, and we are often under the necessity of calculating the resistance of walls and ma.s.ses of stone.'

The clerk, who adhered as pertinaciously to old customs as the ore to its native mountains, shook his head in token of disbelief.

'You want proof,' said Megret, with some apparent irritation. 'Show me a suitable place and let me spring a mine in my way. I will pay for the labor and powder if I do not make my words good.'

'Vivat!' cried the clerk, confident of victory; at that moment Arwed stepped directly in front of Megret, with his pistols in his hand and bowed in silence.

'I rejoice to find you here,' said Megret with great equanimity, courteously returning his greeting. 'Allow me but to settle a contest between the old practice and the new science, and I shall immediately afterwards have the pleasure to be at your service.'

During these few moments Mac Donalbain had hastened into the house, and now returning in a state of great excitement, seized Megret by the arm and drew him away.