"OH, BE THOU WELCOME HERE."
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 like _that_,
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 sea _after_
discharging 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 take _me_ with 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 considered _my_
booty, 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.
[1] Headstrong and cross-grained.