When they reached the paths of the Siegdahlen, where they could fearlessly follow a straight line to regain the ice of the fiord, Seraphitus stopped Minna.
"You have nothing to say to me ?" he asked.
"I thought you would rather think alone," she answered respectfully.
"Let us hasten, Minette; it is almost night," he said.
Minna quivered as she heard the voice, now so changed, of her guide,--a pure voice, like that of a young girl, which dissolved the fantastic dream through which she had been passing.

Seraphitus seemed to be laying aside his male force and the too keen intellect that flames from his eyes.

Presently the charming pair glided across the fiord and reached the snow-field which divides the shore from the first range of houses; then, hurrying forward as daylight faded, they sprang up the hill toward the parsonage, as though they were mounting the steps of a great staircase.
"My father must be anxious," said Minna.
"No," answered Seraphitus.
As he spoke the couple reached the porch of the humble dwelling where Monsieur Becker, the pastor of Jarvis, sat reading while awaiting his daughter for the evening meal.
"Dear Monsieur Becker," said Seraphitus, "I have brought Minna back to you safe and sound." "Thank you, mademoiselle," said the old man, laying his spectacles on his book; "you must be very tired." "Oh, no," said Minna, and as she spoke she felt the soft breath of her companion on her brow.
"Dear heart, will you come day after to-morrow evening and take tea with me ?" "Gladly, dear." "Monsieur Becker, you will bring her, will you not ?" "Yes, mademoiselle." Seraphitus inclined his head with a pretty gesture, and bowed to the old pastor as he left the house.

A few moments later he reached the great courtyard of the Swedish villa.

An old servant, over eighty years of age, appeared in the portico bearing a lantern.