When they arrived there it was as Yaspard had said. Signy was on the beach waiting for her brother, and great was her surprise to see Fred in theOsprey.
But when her brother explained, and told her of the part they expected her to play, the little girl's heart began to beat with the wildest hopes and fears that ever stirred in one so young.
The shadow of that terrible family feud had early fallen on her gentle spirit, and the vivid imagination which made her almost realise many merely ideal fancies had exaggerated that inherited enmity into something too dreadful to put into words. Such thoughts had been fostered, of course, by the inconsiderate way in which Mr. Adiesen had spoken and acted, never thinking, as he ought to have done, of the tender years of one who marked his words—never caring that his sentiments were the reverse of Christian. I think he rather "prided himself" upon the feud as a thing pertaining to his family tree, and to be cherished along with the motto on his crest! No one had dared to tell the Laird of Boden plainly that he was acting as no civilised—far less God-fearing—man should act, and he had never taken himself to task upon the subject. Consequently he had put no restraint on his speech, nor cared who heard him, when denouncing the Lairds of Lunda and all pertaining to them!
Signy would, of her own free will, as soon have put her hand into a red-hot fire as have asked Uncle Brüs to receive Fred Garson in a hospitable manner; but she was made of fine metal, and would carry out Yaspard's wishes, although all the thunders of Thor and Odin were ready to burst on her little head.
She put her hand frankly into that of Fred and walked up to the house, soon followed by Yaspard, who had only lingered a moment to give some instructions to the Harrisons before they left, with Gloy, for their home.
When Moolapund was reached Yaspard said to Signy, "Take Mr. Garson to the parlour, and I will go and tell Aunt Osla he is here."
The parlour, you may remember, was being used as a study while the Den was undergoing renovation; and Mr. Adiesen was sitting at a table examining some pieces of rock which greatly delighted him, for he was saying to himself, in tones of extreme satisfaction, "I knew it! I was convinced of it! I always believed it was to be found in those islands! andIam the discoverer!"
"Uncle!" said the soft little voice, and the scientist turned round to face his hereditary foe!
He had never seen Fred, but some striking traits peculiar to his race, made it easy for Mr. Adiesen to recognise a Garson in the bold youth who stood there smiling and holding out the hand of good-fellowship.
The old man was completely taken aback. The instinct of hospitality, which is held like a sacred thing among Shetlanders, bade him receive with a measure of courtesy whoever chanced to come under his "rooftree," but another instinct, as deeply rooted, and more ready to exhibit itself, was also moving within him.
Fortunately no time was given him to choose between two courses. Signy caught his hand between her own, kissed it with quick fervency, and laid it in that of Fred, saying as she did so, "Dear Uncle Brüs, for my sake, for your own little Signy's sake."
They did not give him a single moment to recover himself—not a single demon of hatred, jealousy, or pride got a chance to reassert its power in time to prevent that hand-clasp; and before he could speak either, the ground was half cut from under him!
As if they had been meeting every day, and were old friends, Fred said, as their hands met, "How do you do? I seeyouhave triumphed where even the famous geologist Congreve failed. We have chipped the rocks for years, and Mr. Congreve has searched high and low, in Lunda and Burra Isle, in every skerry and locality where that" (pointing to the beautifully veined bits of mineral) "ought to be found, but without success. Allow me to congratulate you on such a discovery. You are to be envied, Mr. Adiesen. May I take a near view of your specimens?"
How it came about no one could ever tell, but a few minutes later Yaspard and Aunt Osla, coming in much trepidation to the parlour, found Fred and Mr. Adiesen in amicable conversation over the stones, while Signy stood between her uncle's knees, with his arm around her, and his fingers lovingly twined among her bright curls!
Aunt Osla was nervous and tearful, and would have made a scene, no doubt, but for Fred's admirable tact. He addressed her, as he had done the Laird, just as if they were ordinary acquaintances meeting in the most matter-of-fact, every-day kind of manner. Wrath and sentiment alike collapsed before such commonplace salutations, and both Mr. Adiesen and his sister felt they would only make themselves ridiculous if they met young Garson's simple civility with any expression of deeper feelings.
So the conversation glided smoothly into the well-worn and useful channels of ordinary talk about the weather, and the crops, and the fishing, and "the South," until Miss Adiesen was at her ease enough to say, "I hope your dear mother is well?"
"She is regaining strength and a degree of cheerfulness, thank you," said Fred; and then quite naturally, as if he knew he were talking on a subject interesting to his hearers, he went on to speak of the trial they had passed through in the loss of his father; and when he had said just enough about that he quietly glided into Mr. Adiesen's favourite themes, surprising the old gentleman considerably by his knowledge of natural science and his intelligent appreciation of the scientist himself!
Yaspard sat near, a delighted listener, while Fred, using his utmost powers of fascination, talked Uncle Brüs into good humour, and so paved the way to an amicable adjustment of some of the differences between the rival Lairds.
It was not till tea had been served, and the day was far spent, that Fred asked the loan of a boat, and his young friend Yaspard's crew, to take him back to Lunda. Permission was given, of course; and when our Viking-boy went off to get theOspreyready Signy went too, and Aunt Osla disappeared to indite a letter to her old friend, Fred's mother. Thus the two men were left alone, which was exactly what Fred desired, and he was not long in taking advantage of an opportunity he had been devoutly desiring would come.
"What a fine lad that is!" he said, speaking of Yaspard. "He is quite the ideal Hialtlander!"
"He is rather too fond of romance and the like," answered the old man; but he smiled, for he was fond of his nephew, and liked to hear him praised.
"Yes, I think with you that there is an excess of romantic sentiment in his character; and that kind of thing is apt to become exaggerated into eccentricity or foolishness. I suppose he can't help it, living so much within himself, as it were."
"Possibly—that is—so!" Mr. Adiesen replied slowly.
"I hope," Fred resumed, and he smiled very pleasantly, "that this Viking fancy he has taken up may be of service to him in bringing him into contact with boys of his own age and rank. The young Mitchells are capital fellows, andyouknow better than most folk what sort of companions he is likely to find in Dr. Holtum's family."
"The Doctor is a man in a thousand. He did me a service I am not likely to forget on this side the grave. I don't see him as often as—might be under different circumstances. But I respect him. Yes, young man, I respect Dr. Holtum!" And the frown which had gathered on the old man's brow at mention of the Mitchells cleared up more rapidly than Fred had dared to hope for.
"I don't know how we should get along without Dr. Holtum—we young ones, I mean," he remarked. "He enters so much into all our fun, and then he is so very clever too, a first-rate scientist. They have a 'menagerie,' as large and interesting as your own, at Collaster. And the twins—they are a little older than your lovely little niece, but she would find them companionable, for she is older than her years, I think. I suppose it will be with her as it is with Yaspard in some respects?"
"Signy is quite contented without girls' society, and she can never become either eccentric or foolish," Mr. Adiesen said hurriedly; but all the same he suddenly had a vision of his pet growing up to be peculiar, and an old maid perhaps resembling Aunt Osla, or some other of the many spinster ladies whose insular life had doomed them to that fate.
"My sister Isobel and I," said Fred, "always feel that we are more fortunate than the greater number of Lairds' families in having so many companions in our island. It has been desperately good for me, I know, to have such clever chaps as Eric Mitchell and Svein Holtum for my chums."
"And your sister? Dr. Holtum's girls are younger?"
"Yes, and Isobel suffers in consequence. We all make a great fuss over Isobel, and she thinks a little too much of her own consequence. But still she has advantages—from the society of ladies, for instance—which your Signy cannot have."
The entrance of Signy herself put a stop to the conversation, but Fred was satisfied that he had sown good seed which would produce the right kind of fruit by-and-by. When he left Boden his heart was light within him. He took Mr. Adiesen's insolent note from his pocket and tore it to bits, scattering them on the sea, and saying within himself, "A soft answer turneth away wrath;" then to Yaspard he said, "Now, Sir Viking, foryourletter. You want the answer, don't you?"
Yaspard and Fred were alone in the boat. There was a pleasant breeze blowing fair, and Yaspard had preferred taking his passenger himself, leaving the Harrisons to entertain Gloy at Noostigard. Thus the conversation between the two could be as confidential as they pleased.
"I wonder," said Fred, "if you know that it was your letter that brought me to Boden?"
The Viking opened his eyes very wide. Evidently he knew nothing of the sort, and Fred laughed as he glanced over the sheet of paper which had come out of his pocket with that other letter.
"I don't believe you have the least ideahowgood a letter it is. My mother cried over it, and Isobel declared the writer ought to be crowned king of every 'vik' in Shetland."
"Oh, come!" Yaspard exclaimed, blushing hotly at his own praises so sung.
We will take the liberty of looking over Fred Garson's shoulder, and reading that epistle which had done so much good.
"DEAR MR. GARSON,—My uncle has directed that the enclosed letter shall be sent to you, so I must put it with this. It is none ofmybusiness to judge him, and I am sureyouwill not forget that he is an old man, and has been bred up with a lot of old-fangled fads, and lives a very solitary kind of life. I want you to know that I have begun a kind of game which I expect will give me a chance of meeting some of your Lunda fellows. I would take it as a great honour if you would keep an eye upon us in this matter, and umpire us when we get anyhow mixed about the rights of the game. I hope to find the Manse boys at Havnholme, and will tell them, so that they can explain to you. I am going to pretend to be a Viking, and make raids. But I'd likeyouto know something more about it than the mere play and nonsense.
"I just hate that horrid, miserable quarrel, which uncle speaks about as The Feud; it seems such a stupid, cruel sort of thing. Poor Aunt Osla cries about it, and my little sister and I are sometimes so unhappy over it that we vow we shall make an end of it when we are grown up. It is so awfully hard to think that there are so many boys and girls like us growing up in Lunda, and we can't know them because of the Feud. The truth is, I have not patience to wait till I am grown up. It will be too late then, for I shall have lost my boy-friends while I was a boy. Now, I hope you will understand that my Viking exploits have got a really good kind of idea at the bottom of them; so if you hear of fights, and forays, and the like, you will know that I am trying in that way to 'settle' this hideous old vampire of a fend. It's the only way I could think of while Uncle Brüs feels as he does.
"I know you are a right good fellow, as your father was, and you will help me. I do need a good fellow's help, and you can't think how my heart seems sometimes like to burst with longing to be with other boys and like other boys. People talk of your minister, how good he is; and of Mrs. Mitchell, and that splendid boy Frank who died. And I hear of allyoudo for the poor people, and about the Lady. Aunt Osla has a heap to tell abouther. I think I would not be so selfish and so foolish as I am if I could talk to some of you Lunda folk, andseehow you live. But I must obey Uncle Brüs, and I must not annoy him; so it's hard to see how I can clear up matters unless I go on the 'war-path,' andyouhelp me to manage our 'sham' so that it does not harm anybody. Trusting you, I am your honest admirer and hereditary foe,"YASPARD ADIESEN.
"P.S.—Please, dear Mr. Garson, forgive Uncle Brüs, and pray, as I do, that somebody may persuade him how silly and really sinful a feud can be."
"Yes, it's a prime letter," remarked Fred; "and nothing but that letter (particularly the postscript) would have made me pass over—— Bah! what is the use of thinking more about it."
But even then his face flushed, and his naturally imperious temper rose, as he recalled the rude, angry words which Mr. Adiesen had written. There was a short silence, which Yaspard was the first to break, "You have made a lot of people happy to-day, Mr. Garson," he said very gratefully.
"I hope this is only the beginning of good times for us all," was the answer. "But now, I wonder what is going to be your next adventure?"
"I expect they'll grow one out of another. By the way, what shall we do about Gloy?"
"He isn't your prisoner now, but your guest, so you must let him return when he pleases. No doubt the Mitchells will have some plan in head for making capital out of Gloy's presence in Boden."
They chatted in the most friendly manner till they reached Lunda, when they parted with mutual regret and many assurances that they should meet again at no very distant time.
The wind was even more favourable for the voyage back, and Yaspard's little boat went swiftly and easily along. He leaned back and let her go, while giving himself up to ecstatic dreams of adventure in which his new acquaintance played the important part. He had adopted Fred Garson for his hero, and was already setting him in the chief place in every airy castle of his imagination; but fancy's flight was interrupted by flight of another kind. As he lay back, gazing more into the air than on the course before him, his attention was drawn to a party of shooies (Arctic skuas) badgering a raven, who was greatly annoyed, and seemed at a sore disadvantage—a position which the lordly bird seldom allows himself to be in.
These shooies live chiefly by preying on other birds. They are winged parasites; they are very audacious, and fear no foe. Although they are not larger than a pigeon, they are not afraid to lay siege to an erne or a glaucus gull, and they will often do so as much for amusement as for gain.
"Mr. Corbie is in a fix," quoth Yaspard to himself, as he watched the swift, graceful evolutions of the shooies as they darted through the air buffeting and tormenting the unfortunate raven, whose harsh, fierce croak and futile efforts to escape were quite pitiful though amusing.
"If he doesn't gain land somehow he's done for, poor wretch: he is tired now, and can't keep on wing much longer; if he touches the water it's all up with him. Poor old corbie! they must have been after him a long time." Thus our Viking soliloquised, as his boat glided on until it was passing below the aerial battlefield.
At that moment Sir Raven, uttering a loud and prolonged scream, shot downward and alighted on the thwart next Yaspard, too exhausted to do more than utter one faint croak, which might have been a parting anathema on the shooies, but which charity impels me to believe was an expression of thankfulness for such an ark of refuge as the boat of a Viking.
Yaspard leaned quickly forward, exclaiming, "Why, can it be? Yes, sure enough—Thor, old fellow, how came you to be in such a plight?"
Still gasping, but self-possessed, Thor hopped from the thwart on to Yaspard's arm, and then, turning up one side of his head, he leered at the shooies in such an expressive and ludicrous manner that the boy went into fits of laughter, even though one of the shooies swooped so near in its baffled anger as to touch his hair.
Thor snuggled up to his master, and began to smooth his ruffled plumes a bit, while Yaspard, tossing his hand about, so frightened the winged banditti that they flew away, and Thor was satisfied.
It was only when this interesting episode was over that our young rover allowed his vision to return to the homeward course; but when his glance fell upon the sea ahead he saw a sight to rejoice the spirit of a Viking. Near the mouth of Boden voe, straight before him, keeping watch for him, lay theLaulie, her blue flag with its golden star flying merrily at the mast-head, her white sail spread, her jolly crew all alert and "on the war-path."
She was cruising about the entrance to the fiord, with the obvious intention of preventing theOspreyfrom reaching her own lawful domain.
Up Yaspard sprung, and keenly surveyed the enemy's position and his own, calculating his "chances" with as much anxiety as if life and honour were at stake. He did not dream of turning aside, or trying to reach any harbour of refuge save his own voe; but he knew that to pass theLauliein safety would require considerable manoeuvring and daring seamanship.
With utmost pleasure, and
"The stern joy that warriors feelIn foemen worthy of their steel,"
he drew from the locker his black Viking flag and ran it aloft, smiling as the ugly thing spread itself in the breeze.
Thor watched this performance with profound gravity and attention; and when Yaspard resumed his position Sir Raven solemnly hopped away and took up a position on the bow, with his weather-eye sagaciously fixed upon the black flag high overhead. He had so lately suffered so much from dark-hued things flying above him that he was suspicious of that pennon's intentions, and felt it necessary to observe its movements with the closest heedfulness.
Yaspard, however, put another construction on the bird's behaviour. "You're a genuine old brick!" he said; "a real Viking's raven, and no mistake, Thor. Now I call that very fine of you, to take your proper place on my prow. They'll think I've trained you to it. What prime fun this is, to be sure!"
Thor lifted his shoulders, bent forward his head, and croaked as dismally as ever his congeners croaked over a field of the slain in days gone by; and Yaspard nodded to him, then gave entire attention to the management of his boat.
We may be sure that theLaulie'screw watched our hero's movements with quite as much interest as he noted theirs, and when his battle-flag was seen they shouted for joy.
"He knows what we are up to. He has challenged us," Harry Mitchell exclaimed with great satisfaction. "Now, boys, we've got to nail him before he passes Yelholme."
"His boat goes very fast; she is light too, and he has her well in hand," Tom remarked critically as theOspreydrew nearer, skimming the waves as airily and swiftly as any bird.
Yelholme, to which reference had been made, lay near the course Yaspard was on. If theLauliecould not intercept Yaspard before he reached the little island she would lose ground by being obliged to tack a good deal, while he, having the wind with him, would easily get ahead.
"If it becomes a chase we haven't a chance," said Harry, "so we must try and cut him off at the holme."
But Yaspard knew pretty well what their tactics were likely to be, and acted accordingly.
It is not possible to describe with any degree of accuracy the very clever way in which the boats tried to circumvent each other; how theOspreydodged here and there, striving to outrace the other, and how theLauliegallantly defeated every attempt so made. At last Yaspard, seeing that nothing but a very bold effort had any chance of success, determined to try a delicate manoeuvre. His boat, being smaller and lighter than theLaulie, could venture much nearer a skerry or holme. He resolved to run straight for Yelholme. He knew that the other boat would do likewise, but approaching from another point, would be obliged to lower sail and trust to the oars. He hoped he could keep "on wing," and round the holme in safety before theLauliehad got on the same course. Accordingly he altered his tactics, and sent his skiff careening toward the holme as if he meant to dash right into it.
"What on earth is he up to now?" Bill exclaimed in wonder; "he will be under our stern in a jiffy if he holds on like that."
"If he passes astern he will reach the holme and be round it before us. We must not allow that; drop the sail, Bill," said Harry.
Down went theLaulie'ssail, and in a short time she was rowing swiftly for the same point that theOspreyseemed bent on gaining. Yaspard did not alter his course one bit until he was within talking distance of the enemy, and dangerously near the holme.
"Don't be rash, man," Harry sung out. "You will be flung on the holme by that undertow on the lee side."
Even as he spoke Yaspard saw the danger he had not considered, and promptly dropped his sail. By that time the boats were almost within an oar's length of each other, but theOspreywas ahead. With wondrous speed the Viking-boy had his oars out, and would soon have been round the holme and on his course again, but at that moment Tom Holtum caught up a coil of rope lying handy, and flung it like a lasso over theOsprey. The bight fell over her rudder and horn, and before the hapless Viking could leave his seat or lift a finger to save himself, his boat was hauled alongside of theLaulie, and he was captured.
"Fairly caught!" cried Bill, leaning over to thump him on the back, while Tom clutched theOspreywith both hands, determined that she should not escape.
Then Yaspard struck his colours, and remarked, "You need not be so particular with your grappling-irons, Holtum; I yield myself to the fortune of fair fight."
"Come aboard us," said Harry. "You did awfully well, and needn't mind that Tom's dodge was more successful than yours. It was a low kind of trick on the whole, but we were determined to make you our prisoner."
By that time Yaspard was in theLaulie, and his boat towing ignobly in the rear. Thor, puzzled out of his dignity by such extraordinary proceedings, afraid to trust himself with his master in the enemies' hands, and too tired to seek refuge in flight, then gave vent to his feelings in speech—
"Uncle, uncle. Croak! bad boy! croak! croak! croak! Yap! yap! yap! Pirate; hi, good dog! Dog! Uncle! oh my!"
He had never spoken so much at one time before, but the situation called for a supreme effort.
When he concluded his oration, amid yells of laughter, Thor turned up his eyes till nothing but a streak of white was visible, and shoved his beak among the feathers on one shoulder as if he meant to go to sleep.
"What a fellow, to be sure!" exclaimed Tom. "He licks Crawbie all to nothing."
Harry explained to Yaspard that Crawbie was a hoodie crow belonging to Svein Holtum, and a great talker, but nothing like Thor in that respect.
Harry was soon on his hobby, and would have discoursed on birds for an hour if Bill had not stopped him by asking, "Well, boys, what's the next move?"
"Home, of course," said Harry; "at least, to Collaster first, for the Viking is Tom's prize, and must be taken to the Doctor's house."
"I should like that hugely," said the captive; "but may I beg you to remember my anxious and sorrowing relations, who will strain dim eyes in vain and all the rest of that sort of thing. They'll be horribly frightened at Moolapund if I am not back there tonight, and it's late now."
A long discussion followed as to how the Boden folk were to be informed of the Viking's position. One suggestion was that a Manse boy was to return to Boden in theOsprey, tell the tale, and bring Gloy away; but that plan was rejected, because Yaspard declared that his "followers" would seize the messenger, and hold both him and Gloy as hostages for their captain.
Then a brilliant idea occurred to Harry, who had always been the most reflecting boy of the lot.
"I'll tell you what to do. Send Thor with a message tied to his leg. That was what Svein did once, when he was hurt and in Vega. Crawbie had gone after him; and he carved two words on the cover of his pocket-book, tied it to Crawbie, and Crawbie went to Collaster with it."
"Splendid! Yes, the very thing!" the others cried.
So a hard-boiled egg was taken from the ferdimet, and laid temptingly on Yaspard's hand as a lure for Thor, who was evidently averse to trusting himself in theLaulie. But his weakness was an egg, and he soon flopped across to his master's knee, where he was detained for "further orders."
"Will he go home?" was the next debatable point. Yaspard thought Thor would, if they made it sufficiently plain to his corvidaeous intellect that he must not remain with the boats.
"He has often followed me, poor old chap!" said Yaspard. "I dare say he was coming on my tracks when the shooies fell foul of him; he will return to Moolapund if I drive him off. He won't halt by the way now, for it is near his roosting time, and he is tired to boot."
They did as Svein Holtum had shown them how, and tearing the cover from a pocket-book, tied it securely to Thor's leg. To make assurance doubly sure, a duplicate was fixed around his neck. Yaspard wrote on these boards—
"Captured on the high seas; taken in chains to Collaster.—THE VIKING."
Then he tossed Thor up from his hand, crying, "Shoo! off with you! Home now!" But Thor flitted no farther than theOsprey, and, settling in his favourite place at the bow, began to pull viciously at the book-boards.
Bill hauled the smaller boat alongside and clambered into her, making noise and demonstration enough, as he did so, to scare any ordinary bird; but Thor did not stir from the spot until Bill's hands were almost on him. Then he merely hopped from the one boat to the other, remarking as he did it, "Just so!" which of course sent the boys off yelling as before with wild laughter.
Now, no self-respecting raven will endure to be laughed at, especially when he is merely repeating a boy's pet phrase. Nor will he tamely submit to being chased from stem to stern with shouts of "Shoo! shoo!" Thor felt trebly insulted just then; possibly he believed that "Shoo! shoo!" had something to do with shooies, and the allusion was ill-timed he considered.
After much noise and hustling, and what Thor looked upon as unseemly action, he came to the conclusion that a boat is not always an ark of refuge, nor is one's master always to be depended upon as a sure help in time of need. With these thoughts came a recollection of the comforts of Moolapund and the more fit companionship of Mr. Adiesen. That settled the point in Thor's mind.
"Bad boy! Shoo!" he burst forth wrathfully, and then screeching out, "Uncle, Pirate, uncle, uncle, uncle!" he spread his great wings and took a bee-line for Moolapund.
Loud hurrahs followed him; but Thor never looked back once, never turned to the right or the left, but, swift as possible in his cumbered condition, flew home, and alighting on the parlour window-sill, began to jabber every word he knew, without the least attention to either grammar or construction of words, and in such excited tones that Mr. Adiesen's attention was drawn to him. Thor was admitted at once, and freed from his burden. Then the message was read; and while the Laird read, Miss Osla and Signy waited in fear and trembling, but never a word spoke the old man.
"What has that boy been doing?" the boy's aunt asked at length.
"Taking his turn at being captive, as I warned him might happen."
"Oh, Uncle Brüs, have they taken Yaspard?" Signy cried in great excitement.
"'Captured on the high seas; taken in chains to Collaster.—THE VIKING,'" Mr. Adiesen read with impressive solemnity; and Miss Osla, scarcely understanding what was the state of the case, or whether her brother was joking, or the reverse, exclaimed—
"Dear, dear! whatever has he been about now? He is the very strangest boy. To Collaster! in chains! What a foolish, foolish boy! He must have been interfering with some of those young Mitchells. Of course Mr. Garson has nothing to do with his nonsense!"
Mr. Adiesen had walked out of the room long before she stopped; and her bewilderment was much increased by Signy saying delightedly—
"Captured! and taken to Collaster! Oh, how pleased brodhor must be!"
The lads found that it was so late when they neared Lunda, that it would be best to divide, one boat going to Collaster, and the other proceeding to Westervoe; so Tom and Yaspard (the latter on a kind of parole) were transferred to theOsprey, which immediately made sail for Collaster, while the Manse boat conveyed the Mitchells to their own home.
The Holtums were lingering over their supper when Tom presented himself, bringing his captive with hands fastened together by a lanyard borrowed from Harry Mitchell for the purpose. The captive's glowing face, afire with fun and joyous anticipation, did not accord with the humiliating position in which he was introduced by Tom; and his reception by the Doctor and Mrs. Holtum certainly did not indicate anything like hostile feeling.
The lanyard was laughingly untied by the Doctor, who said, as he released and shook Yaspard's hands, "I am sure you can trust your prisoner with so much liberty, Tom."
"Of course," said Tom; "I didn't see the fun of roping him at all, but he would have it so, and the Mitchells said it looked more ship-shape."
"Besides," added Yaspard, "I wanted Uncle Brüs to know that I didn't come here of my own free will and free-handed."
"I quite understand," replied the Doctor, very much amused at the whole affair. "Butnowit is quite proper that your manacles be removed. You remember how the Black Prince treated his French prisoners? My Tom must not be less courteous to a Viking! Now, boys, let us hear how all this came about."
Nothing loth, Tom and Yaspard related their adventures, and very entertaining these were; but when they described the sending home of Thor, Dr. Holtum's face grew somewhat grave, and he seemed pondering within himself.
When Tom had conducted his prisoner to his cell—which was one of the best bedrooms—and returned to bid good-night, his father said, "Tom, lad, I am not altogether satisfied that yon corbie was a trustworthy messenger. Suppose he didnotcarry news of Yaspard to Moolapund?"
"Yaspard never doubted he would."
The Doctor shook his head. "If," he said, "by any chance they havenotheard of the boy they will be very anxious about him. I think you must take a note from me to the fishing-station. Some of the boats will be leaving for the haaf even now, and as they run past Boden, I am sure one of them will put in there with my letter."
"Let me go with it, father!" Tom cried eagerly. "I am not a bit tired or sleepy; and it will be such fun. Do let me go!"
Permission was given, a note to Mr. Adiesen written by Dr. Holtum, and Tom despatched as envoy. He soon found a skipper willing to land him on Boden, and in the grey, quiet night, this most prosaic of the Lunda lads was started on a somewhat eerie journey. A great deal of time would have been lost if the haaf-boat had carried him into Boden voe, so Tom good-naturedly requested to be put ashore at the nearest point, determined to walk across the island to Moolapund. Tom had declared that he was neither tired nor sleepy, but he was both; and by the time he had walked over a mile of Boden heath he was fain to stop more than once and take a brief rest. Each time he sat down on the soft, fragrant verdure, he felt less inclined to get up. How it happened at last he never knew, but Tom sat down by an old planticrü,[1] and remained there; and there he was lying in blissful slumber when the sun was well up over the Heogue, and Gaun Neeven had come out for an early stroll. He always took his walks abroad when the rest of the Boden folk were in their beds, therefore it was believed that he seldom went out at all.
If a philosopher like Mr. Neeven, who had passed through many years of most exciting life, could be surprised, he was when, coming around the planticrü, he stumbled upon Tom Holtum, spread out at ease, and unconscious of his position.
The man stood stock still for some minutes, contemplating the prostrate figure, until a grim smile gradually spread over his melancholy countenance; then stooping, he touched Tom's face and said, "Wake up, lad, wake up!"
Tom's eyes were wide open in a moment, and he sat up and stared at the disturber of his repose.
"What are you doing here?" Mr. Neeven asked, in his usual stern tones, which did not help to clarify Tom's understanding of his own position. He stammered some very incoherent words, which were no explanation at all, and did not even attempt to get on his feet.
Mr. Neeven was not a patient man. "Get up," he said, "and come with me. I must know what you mean by skulking about my house in the night-time."
Tom rose slowly, and then discovered that he was in the near vicinity of Trullyabister.
"This is a pretty fix," thought he, as he followed Mr. Neeven. "I believe I'll bolt!"
But a moment's reflection showed him how futile any attempt at escape would be, so he silently proceeded in Mr. Neeven's wake, repenting him sorely for being so foolish as to fall asleep that night.
When they were in the dismal apartment where the recluse spent the greater part of his time poring over books and nursing his gloomy thoughts, he pointed to a chair, and taking one himself, said briefly—
"Now give a proper account of yourself."
Tom could be concise and to the point in speech as well as Mr. Neeven, and having recovered his usualsang-froid, he explained his appearance in Boden in few plain words.
It was the first Gaun Neeven had heard of his young relative turning Viking, and he was surprised to find a strange something within himself leap and stir warmly at the tale of Yaspard's adventures, even though told in Tom's unvarnished matter-of-fact style. Was it not a like "craze" which had rioted within his own blood when he was a boy, and had sent him out into the world to fight and jostle men, to win renown, and prove his manhood by risking life and limb in all kinds of mad adventure? Nothing had so moved that self-contained, moody man for years, and even obtuse Tom could see that his story had touched some hidden spring of feeling. The stern lines had relaxed, and there was a softer though more intense light in the man's eyes.
Taking advantage of what he would have styled "a melting mood," Tom begged to be allowed to carry his father's letter to its destination. "And after that," he said, "on the honour of a gentleman, I will come back to you, and you can make of me what you please."
"The letter shall go to Mr. Adiesen at a proper hour," replied Mr. Neeven. "He is asleep at present, and I happen to know he isnotuneasy about his nephew. You had better lie down on this sofa and finish your own nap, while I finish my walk. Later I will tell you what I require you to do."
He walked out of the room, shutting the door with a key, and leaving Tom a veritable prisoner.
"He might have trusted me," muttered Tom; "but since he hasn't put me on my honour, I shall do my best to escape—— Gracious! what's that?"
The lad was very wide-awake, and not the least inclined to go to sleep again. His exclamation had been caused by a curious sharp barking noise, mingled with plaintive crying, which roused Tom's pity as well as astonishment. He ran to the window, fancying the sounds came from that side, and hoping to see something to explain what they meant. He was not disappointed. The window of the haunted room was not far from that of Mr. Neeven's sitting-room, and at that window Tom saw the same unearthly visage which had startled Yaspard and the Harrisons.
"Whe-e-ew!" whistled Tom, thrusting his fists far down his pockets, as was his wont when the solution of any difficulty penetrated the somewhat "thick skin" which enveloped his remarkably sound and shrewd understanding.
He stood some time staring thoughtfully at the creature, who stared back at him as no lady of modest demeanour ought to have done; but we must not forget that she was a captive, and looking for a deliverer, and therefore to be excused in part.
"Poor soul!" muttered Tom, as the baby's wails once more broke the beautiful silence of that smiling, sun-watched night-time. "It's a horrible shame. I wish I could let them out. It would serve the old boy right. But it's too risky a job for me to undertake by myself. Oh, well! when I get back to Lunda—if I'm not going to be shut up as she is—I'll get the Manse boys to help. Bet Harry Mitchell will devise a way of circumventing both Mr. Neeven and Mr. Adiesen."
Then Tom tried the window, hoping to make his exit by it, but found it was nailed down beyond his power to unfasten.
"Never heard of such a thing in Shetland before," growled Tom. "What's he afraid of here? One would think Boden was the abode of thieves or pirates at this rate. Anyway, there are plenty of books about."
He found an interesting book about the buccaneers of the Spanish Main, so, lying down on the sofa, he was soon lost in the volume, and forgot that he was in durance vile.
[1] Planticrü,—acircularenclosure.
When Mr. Neeven returned to his house the Laird of Boden was with him, and Tom was desired to hand over Dr. Holtum's letter, which he did with alacrity.
After perusing it carefully, Mr. Adiesen said, "And so you are the Doctor's son? You are not very like your father. He was a very handsome youth when he was your age."
Tom laughed, and there was that in his plain, honest face, which pleased both the gentlemen perhaps more than fine features would have done.
"I try to be like father in other ways," said he; "but my brother Svein is as like him as can be. You would like Svein. He is very clever as well as good-looking. People who can judge say so!"
That hearty brotherly speech added still more to the good impression Tom had made, and the two men studied him silently for a minute or two, "as they might some curious starfish," Tom remarked later, when recounting all that took place.
"You are to come with me now," said Mr. Adiesen at last. "I dare say you will be glad of some breakfast. Come along, and we will settle what is to be done about Yaspard afterwards."
They went off to Moolapund, leaving Mr. Neeven alone; and very much alone he felt himself to be. It was strange, passing strange, thought he, that the "chatter" of a very ordinary boy should have caused such a curious revolution within him. What did it mean? Had he not lived his life of action? had he not tasted the fruit of knowledge until it had palled on his appetite? Had he not his books for company—books, which could not irritate, and contradict, and bother, as human beings are prone to do?
"A boy is a happy creature!" Gaun Neeven said to himself with a sigh, as he picked up the book Tom had been reading; "a happy sort of animal on the whole. I could wish myself a boy once more!"
Meanwhile Tom Holtum was being introduced at Moolapund, where he was very soon at his ease, and chatting away with his wonted fearless candour, which Harry had been heard to call "impudence and vanity rolled up in whale's blubber."
His host was in wonderfully good humour, and contrived to get a good deal of information regarding life in Lunda out of Tom, without allowing it to appear that he was at all interested in the people of that isle.
"I suppose," he said by-and-by, "that I must find a way of sending you back; and there is that boy Winwick has to go also. But Yaspard's misadventure must teach us a lesson. You will have to give me your word that those who convey you to Lunda shall not be intercepted in the performance of a neighbourly courtesy as he was."
"Oh, sir!" Tom cried hotly; "why, we never looked at it likethat, nor did Yaspard. It was agreed that we should try and nab each other anywhere and anyhow outside of our own voes. If you had asked Fred Garson to safeguard the Viking, we would not have meddled with him."
"And poor brodhor," Signy exclaimed, "would not have been enjoying himself at Collaster!"
"I think," said Uncle Brüs suddenly, "that Yaspard has met Vikings as mad as himself. Now, Master Tom, can you tell how he is going to recover his liberty and his boat 'captured on the high seas,' eh?"
"I thought I'd talk to his followers—as he calls those Harrison boys—and they may help him. Of course they are the proper persons to negotiate about his ransom," and Tom grinned.
Signy volunteered to go with him to Noostigard; so the ponies were saddled, and off the couple set.
Such a claver as there was, to be sure, when Tom and the Harrisons met! The brothers were for seizing Tom in place of Yaspard; and nothing but Signy's vehement protestations that he was under a flag of truce, so to speak, prevented their carrying out some desperate measure of the sort. They wouldn't see the difference between Yaspard caught at seaafterdischarging a hospitable duty, and Tom a messenger of peace.
"Weel," said Lowrie at last, "will ye tak' one o' us in his place, then?"
"No, we won't—not a dozen of you!" answered Tom.
"Oh, boys!" Signy exclaimed then, "Yaspard promised at the very first that I should have a share in his Viking-ploy. It would be just lovely if you would takemewith you, to beg for his freedom. You know that's how the ladies used to do for their knights."
"When they happened to be their fathers or brothers," said Tom; "and then the girls were married to the knights' enemies, and they all lived happily ever after."
"I'm not going to marry you EVER, so that isn't to be the way this time," retorted the little lady, with immense spirit.
"Very well," he answered calmly, "then it will be some other fellow. But upon my word I think it would be a very jolly plan to take you with us; only—will your uncle permit it?"
"I'll try and coax him. He is really dear and good, if you only would believe it; and I don't think that he is going to be so camsterie[1] about Lunda folk now that he has seen Mr. Garson. I just think Mr. Garson is splendid. He makes me think of Prince Charlie and Sir Philip Sidney. He looks so like a real hero, does he not?"
"Fred is to be the other fellow ten years hence," thought Tom, but he wisely held his tongue.
Uncle Brüs was not so very difficult to persuade as Signy had imagined. Perhaps, if she had seen Dr. Holtum's letter, she would have found a reason for his unexpected complacence; but Signy was too glad at the permission given to waste thoughts on "reasons why." She would hardly wait to carry out Aunt Osla's request that her best frock must be worn on such an important occasion, and nothing short of Mam Kirsty's tears could have reconciled her to wasting time in brushing out her abundant hair into a profusion of curls, and otherwise making herself "a credit tae them 'at aws (owns) her."
But when she was released from those loving feminine hands and went down to the little quay with Uncle Brüs to join the boys, Tom Holtum thought he had never seen a sweeter vision of a ladye faire than she appeared in her cream-white frock and navy-blue cloak and hat, her shining hair hanging about the lovely little face, and her eyes shining like stars on a frosty night.
"You'll never need to beg one word," he declared; "you will break the Viking's chains with the glint of your eyes. He was consideredmybooty, and I am ready this moment to give him up to you without a single condition. So there!"
"Thank you, but I don't want my knight for nothing," Signy replied, with a saucy toss of the head, as she stepped into the boat. Then turning to her uncle, she said, "Good-bye, dear uncle; we—Yaspard and I—will be back soon."
"Not to-night, sir, if you please," Tom cried eagerly; "we shall want to keep her a little while;" and the Laird answered, "It shall be as Dr. Holtum may think best. Take care of her, boys."
As the boat rowed away he looked fondly after the child, and thought that never did a fairer maid than his darling Signy go on a mission of love.
As the Boden boat went sliding along the coast of Lunda, purposing to bring up at Collaster, Tom saw their young laird riding over the hill, and as the distance was not great, the lad stood up and waved and yelled to attract Fred's notice. He was successful, and the horseman came rapidly to the beach, while the boat drew close in-shore.
A few words sufficed to explain matters, for Fred had seen Dr. Holtum that morning, and knew of Tom's expedition.
"And you have been allowed to bring the little lady to Lunda?" Fred said. "I think you had better land her here, for there is a good deal of rough water round the Head of Collaster to-day, and she may get some spray. Will you let me carry you on Arab to the Doctor's house, Signy?"
"I think that would be nice," she answered; and Tom said, "You had better go with Fred."
The boat was brought along some crags, and Tom, jumping out, lifted Signy on shore; then, resuming his place, shoved off again, saying as he waved them good-bye, "You will be there before us, I suppose, but we will not be long behind you; so look alive, if you don't want to be beat."
Fred had dismounted, and he and Signy stood together watching the boat get on her course again.
Then Fred said, laughing, "I shall feel like some robber chief carrying off a fair prize when I ride away with you! You will not be afraid to trust me and Arab, I hope?"
"No! of course I can trust you," was Signy's ready answer.
He sprang into his saddle, and then with the aid of his hand and stirrup Signy climbed lightly to the place before him, and settled herself there composedly.
"This is how I used to have delightful rides with Uncle Brüs," she said; "but he could not hold me so firmly as you do, and once his pony stumbled and I had a fall, and he never would let me up beside him again."
"When my sister was a little girl like you, she was never so happy as when our father took her up like this; and sometimes he would ride miles and miles with her. Don't you like Arab's step? I always think there never was a horse like him. He was a present to me on my birthday—the last gift of my dear father."
"How you must love him! He goes as easy as a sail-boat on a smooth sea."
And then Arab was put at a gallop, to Signy's delight. She was perfectly safe (and felt herself to be so) with that strong arm around her, and that firm hand holding the reins. She enjoyed that ride immensely, and remembered the pleasure of it for a long time; but Fred remembered it all his life long, because from that moment he could date a new colour in his life, a kind of thought and feeling which were novel in his experience.