"Eric. My father was a Norwegian. But it was a boshy name and the fellows on the _Britannia_ called me 'Little by Little'--after the book, you know." She laughed. "A very inappropriate name, Mr. Halmar. You must be six feet." He shook his head. "Five feet eleven and three-quarters. It's too big for a sailor. You get in the way of the ropes and things." "Not too big for a man--but listen! the professor is overcome already; how delightful!" In good sooth he was actually reduced to the position of listener, an isolated assertion of interest being all the speech allowed him as Miss Willina waxed eloquent over the crass superstitions of the islanders and her own select beliefs. Rick's face grew brimful of smiles. "Aunt Will is as bad as the best, herself. Why, the other day I carved out a sort of devil,--a thing they worship in the Caribbees,--and she was in quite a taking because it was left out on a _harp_,--that's a Viking's tomb, Lady Maud. She has some rigmarole about 'tribute to the dead,' their sending back things to work evil to the living. But, do you know, Lady Maud, it's awfully rum, but I couldn't find the thing when I went to look for it yesterday morning." "You couldn't find it? Mr. Halmar, don't speak loud; don't attract their attention by looking surprised! Was it--the devil, I mean--fearfully ugly?" "The best I ever made." "Had it white eyes with a shot stuck in them?" "Lady Maud! did you find it?" "Not I, but the professor did. It's a footstep of a discredited belief, and he is going to lecture on it to the British Association. Isn't it perfectly lovely? How we shall all laugh!" "But you will tell him, of course?" "Tell him! Why should I? These things are one of my chief joys in life." Rick Halmar winced. "But don't you see, Lady Maud, it's my fault more or less? I oughtn't to go carving devils and leaving them about. It isn't fair." She raised her eyebrows. "When you are older, Mr. Halmar, you won't be so eager to accept responsibility. By the way, does yours extend to another devil of the same sort which was found on Grâda Sands?" He let his head drop into his hands in comic despair. "How one's sins _do_ find one out! It must be the one Aunt Will flung into the Minch. Everything comes round sooner or later to the sands. Has the professor got it too?" "No, Mr. Halmar. _I_ have it." "You! Oh, Lady Maud--I am sorry." "You well may be. I have put it into my own room because the professor declared it was genuine--a real savage fate. No--that isn't true, so don't distress yourself. I took a fancy to it. I have a habit of taking fancies to _things_ and to _people_; so there it shall remain." Rick's face lit up. "Let me make you a better one," he began. "I said, Mr. Halmar, that I took a fancy to _it_; and now, don't you think you should make your confession like a good boy?"