What more likely than that, on discovering the meaning of the Norse runes (a copy of which had been made by Rochefort while the altar-ring was in his possession), the two friends, in a spirit of adventure, should steer their yacht's course to Ormsby, the site of the supposed treasure? And here off this coast their vessel had foundered.
This conclusion, if correct, would seem almost to justify the idea that it was impossible to escape from the malign influence of Odin's ring.
Desire for its possession had led Eric Marville into a mischance that had doomed him to a prison-life: he had escaped from the convict's cell, and had wrested the secret from the runic ring, only to meet with a watery grave in sight of the very treasure-hill that he had come to explore!
But, stay! had Eric Marville and Captain Rochefort perished in the fierce currents of Ormsby Race, or had one, or both, been washed ashore alive? Was the removal of the Viking's treasure due to one of them, or to the joint action of the two?
So occupied was Idris with these thoughts that he had almost forgotten the presence of Lorelie, but now, on glancing at her, he noticed that her face wore a grave, not to say startled, expression, obviously due to the name that had been so strangely presented to her view. The discovery seemed to disquiet her as much as it disquieted himself.
Then in a moment it occurred to him that the dead in Saint Oswald's Churchyard, whose grave she was decking with a marble cross, were men who had perished in the sinking of this same vessel, The Idris. Lorelie could explain the mystery, if she chose. He resolved to question her.
"Mademoiselle Rivière," he began, in an earnest tone, "I believe it is within your power to throw some light upon a matter that, to me, is one almost of life and death. Pardon me, if I presume too much on our very recent friendship. To come to the point, I beg, nay, I entreat of you, to tell me all you know concerning the vessel whose timbers we see burning before us, the yacht Idris, that went down in Ormsby Race on the night of the thirteenth of October, 1876."
Swift surprise stole over Lorelie's face.
"And why should you think that I know anything of that lost vessel?"
"Ah! mademoiselle, you are not erecting a costly memorial over the grave of men of whom you know nothing."