"Not from her, Jason?—no."
"No, not from her—from dear old Adam Fairbrother," said Jason.
"Were is he?"
"At Husavik."
"Why did you not bring him with you?"
"He could not come."
"Jason, is he ill?"
"He has crossed the desert to see you, but he can go no further."
"Jason, tell me, is he dying?"
"The good old man is calling on you night and day, 'Sunlocks!' he is crying. 'Sunlocks! my boy, my son. Sunlocks! Sunlocks!'"