When we were well under weigh, and I had done admiring the cutter's
trim fittings and the smartness of her men, I turned to consider
the condition of my unfortunate companions. Two of them were badly
wounded, and they were ordered to be taken below to have their
wounds dressed, whilst the others were now being placed in irons.
They were bound hand and foot to a gun carriage.
Tom Kinlay, who was beside me under the starboard bulwarks, watched
the men with consternation in his face. He was evidently very much
afraid. I saw him put his hand to his breast as though he felt
there for something. I thought he was searching for some weapon;
but whatever it was he did not find it. He opened his coat and
still searched.
"Hang it!" he exclaimed, "I must have lost it;" and then he looked
at me accusingly.
Somehow I thought just then of my viking's stone that I had
recovered so strangely, and as I took it from my pocket and assured
myself that it was all safe, I began to wonder how it had come to
be left there at the top of the cliff. How had Thora allowed it to
go out of her keeping? And Thora, where now was she?
Suddenly I felt a warm breath on my face. I turned and saw Tom
Kinlay glaring at me.
"Ah! it is you," he exclaimed; "you've stolen it from me!"
And he made a grab at the stone, which fell from my hand upon the
deck, for the string had been taken from it, and I had consequently
not been able to hang it round my neck. We both scrambled upon the
deck, each eager to secure the talisman. But I managed to push
Kinlay away, and picking up the stone I put it safely in my breast
pocket just as two of the cutter's men came towards us.
"Now, then, youngster," said one of them, taking Tom by the
shoulder, "it's your turn now, my lad;" and he proceeded to adjust
a pair of handcuffs upon Tom's wrists.
At the same time the other sailor came to me and was in the act of
binding me in a similar manner when Lieutenant Fox came forward
from the after deck.
"Hold hard, Gillions!" he said. "This youngster needn't be treated
like the others, I think. Leave him to me;" and addressing me he
asked, "What is your name, my lad?"
"Halcro Ericson, sir," I replied.
"Well, Ericson, tell me, how came you to be mixed up in this
affair? I thought I saw you on board that coasting schooner, the
Falcon, the other night. Have you turned smuggler since then?"
"No, sir; I was in the cave for something else. I was down seeking
for Thora."
"For Thora? What's that--some sort of birds?"
"Birds! No; for the lass that was lost in the snow yestreen."
"Queer place to look for a lass, that, I must say! But how did you
get there if you did not go round with Kinlay?"
"I climbed down the cliff, sir."
"Come, come, none of your nonsense!" said the officer. "Don't tell
me you climbed down that cliff. I know it's impossible."
"It's not impossible," I rejoined, "for I have climbed it many a
time before."
"Well, it's to be hoped the girl was worth risking your neck for.
However, as you did not find her after all, you deserve to get off,
to look for her in a more likely place."
Then turning to the seaman he said:
"Off with the irons, Gillions, and put the youngster ashore when
the anchor's down."
"Ay, ay, sir!" said Gillions.
Accordingly I was set free; and seeing my rope lying on the deck I
coiled it up ready to take ashore with me, taking it aft to the
gangway.
We were by this time abreast of the Ness and entering Stromness
Bay. Notwithstanding the continued falling of snow, several boats
put out from the jetties of the harbour when the Clasper was seen
sailing in with her prize; and as the chains, rattled over her bow
and she came to an anchorage close inshore, she was surrounded by
inquiring fisher folk.
In one of the first boats that came alongside sat Bailie Duke
wrapped in a great gray plaid. He hailed one of the petty officers
of the cutter, and Mr. Fox came forward and asked him aboard.
"What's all this about?" said Mr. Duke, addressing the lieutenant
as he stepped on the deck. "I see ye've made a prisoner of our
pilot."
"I've made prisoner of a smuggler, sir, pilot or not pilot," said
Mr. Fox.
"But on whose authority have you taken the St. Magnus? Do you not
know that she is our pilot boat?" asked the bailie.
"On the highest authority, Mr. Duke--the Queen's," replied the
lieutenant. "If Kinlay was your pilot, then all the greater was his
offence. His men must suffer the penalty for their crime, and I
suppose the port must just appoint another pilot, that's all."
"His men must suffer, you say?" said Mr. Duke, not understanding.
"Then you do not accuse Carver Kinlay himself of smuggling?"
"I should certainly have done that, Mr. Duke; but Carver Kinlay,
unfortunately, is dead."
"Carver Kinlay dead!" exclaimed the bailie.
"Yes; he lost his life just now in the Gaulton Cave, where we
discovered him and his crew in the act of carrying off contraband
spirits.
"I suppose," the officer continued, "we can send the prisoners
ashore to your jail, sir?"
"Certainly," said Mr. Duke; "we've plenty of room there: send them
ashore. But they will be tried at Kirkwall, not here, you know."
"I know," returned the officer; "but you see the roads are blocked
with this snow. There's no getting to Kirkwall except by sea, and I
have another little affair of this sort on hand tonight."
Bailie Duke was naturally inquisitive, and at the mention of this
other "little affair" he pricked up his ears.
The lieutenant drew him to the other side of the deck, and they
both remained there in earnest conversation. Mr. Duke had his back
towards me. He had not observed me as yet. But the cutter's boat
was being got out to take me ashore, and as I was anxious to hear
from him whether Thora had been found, I walked across and waited
until he should turn round. As I stood there I heard my own name
mentioned.
"Oh, it's just as clear as daylight!" said the magistrate, in reply
to a question from Mr. Fox. "I have traced it all out. There is
little doubt that it was young Halcro Ericson that did it."
"Halcro Ericson! What! the boy Halcro Ericson?" exclaimed the
lieutenant with undisguised surprise. "Why, then, that accounts for
our finding him hiding in the cave! I would never have thought it."
"What!" said the bailie. "You don't mean you have got the lad?"
"Yes, I do, sir; that is if you have no other natives with the same
outlandish name. He's on board, I assure you. Ay, and here he is."
The officer turned round towards me where I stood with my lantern
in one hand, and the coil of rope over my shoulder.
Bailie Duke looked at me with a frown on his brow, and his eyes
were steadily fixed upon my face, which could only have reflected
the innocence of my heart.
"I cannot believe it," he said in an undertone; "and yet the
thing's so clear."
Then he laid a hand sternly on my shoulder, and said, "Ericson, my
lad, I'm really sorry; but, you see, there's no use evadin' the
hand o' the law, and I must make you my prisoner."
"Your prisoner, Mr. Duke! But you cannot think that I have anything
to do with the smuggling?"
"Smuggling!" said he. "I said nothing about smuggling. With that I
have no business. No, it's not the smuggling, it's the murder!"
"Murder! What murder?" I gasped.
"The murder of Colin Lothian, the wandering beggar," he said.
Colin Lothian murdered! I was stunned and perplexed by these
terrible words. But, without further explanation, Mr. Duke gave
orders to some men in the boat he had come out by to make a
prisoner of me. Two men came aboard and bound my arms about me with
my own rope, and conducted me into the boat, while the bailie got
down into the stern, where he sat ruminating as we were rowed
towards the landing pier.
I was marched between two guards up the narrow street of Stromness,
and the cold snow fell down upon me. At the doors of the houses
women and children, whose faces were all so familiar, looked at me,
some with pity, some with shrinking fear. I heard strange
utterances of accusation.
"Who would have thought it, that he could hae done such a thing?"
said one.
"See how the lad hangs his head!" said another.
"Ay, but it's a young murderer he is," said a third.
And this word "murderer" sounded in my ears from every side, and
much I wondered what it all could mean.
When we arrived at the door of the prison house a crowd of the
townspeople awaited us. I looked round the faces fearlessly, and in
their midst I recognized the wrinkled face of my skipper, Davie
Flett.
"Cheer up, my hearty!" said he, as I passed by him. "We'll not
heave anchor till ye come out; and you'll not be long, I'll
warrant."
But I confess it was difficult for me to feel cheerful at that
moment. Indeed, when the prison doors closed upon me, when I found
myself alone in my dark cell, I became dazed and stupid, and began
to think that perhaps after all I was the murderer that I had been
called. Yet what could it all mean? Colin Lothian murdered! My old
friend Colin Lothian!