"FOR NAUGHT HE WOTTED, NOR MIGHT SEE CLEARLY."
"You remember, Mootie, about the big row concerning Havnholme--I mean
the last disturbance which made Fred Garson write to uncle?"
"I know a little about it. Uncle killed a number of birds, and a poor
seal?"
"That wasn't quite how things went, though we heard that was it. We
were told correctly enough about the birds; and I must say I think
Uncle Brüs thinks too much of science and specimens, and too little of
lives. But we did not hear the right way about the seal I have heard
something about it from Fred, and I don't wonder he was so indignant.
It seems they had a tame seal at the Ha'. It had been given to Miss
Garson when it was very young. Its mother had been killed by some
Cockney tourists, and the Laird of Lunda took the little seal home. It
was a great pet, and used to go and fish for itself in Blaesound, but
would always come home when tired or called upon."
"Just as Loki does," said Signy.
"Yes; and they were all very fond of it. But after the Laird died, his
people were a good deal away from the Ha', and the pets were
neglected--servants are so stupid in that way--and so it happened that
the seal was out in Blaesound one day, and didn't come back as usual.
Fred says he heard it had become shy, and a bit wild, through not being
petted, and perhaps it went off of its free will; but he believes it
lost its way among the skerries, and would have returned if it had
known how, or if any one had had the sense to go and look for it as
soon as it was missed. Anyway, it was lost. When the family came home
it was looked for everywhere, and Fred promised a large reward to any
one who should bring it back; but all in vain. Sometimes fishermen
would come and tell how they had seen a sealkie on a skerry that was
not a bit frightened when they came near, but dropped into the water
when they tried to catch it. Others said that a sealkie had followed
their boat, and had looked at them as if it wanted to be friends; and
Fred was sure that it must be Trullya, for no wild seal acts like that.
But though he went to the places where these men had seen the seal,
_he_ never saw it. Then it happened that the Manse boys, passing
Havnholme one day, saw a seal creeping up to the old skeö; and they
were quite sure that it was the lost Trullya, for wild seals don't go
up on land like that. Moreover, the seal kept looking around, and
never minding a boat not far off, and the boys were as convinced that
it was the Ha' pet as I am sure you are mine. They were going to land
at once and capture it, when Uncle Brüs, with Harrison and fule-Tammy,
came along in this boat, and Uncle ordered the Manse boys to get along.
There was a row, for the boys stuck to it, and said they _would_ land,
for the island was Fred's, and the seal belonged to him as well. Of
course you know how uncle would rampage at that. He was so angry he
threatened to shoot them if they came one bit nearer; and they declared
afterwards that they were sure he would have done it. While the row
was going on the seal disappeared, and the boys, believing it had
dropped into the sea and that there was no hope of securing it, decided
to quit. But as they sailed away and uncle's boat landed, they saw the
poor sealkie's head peep round the skeö; then there were shots fired,
and fule-Tammy shouted at the pitch of his voice, 'Ye've got him, sir,
got him! dead as a door-nail!' The Mitchells were too disgusted to
wait for anything more. They sailed home and told Fred."
"It was horrible, Yaspard--very horrible. How could uncle be so cruel
to a poor sealkie, and yet be so kind to me?"
Yaspard laughed. "There is a difference between you and Trullya,
Mootie! But now comes the nice bit of my story. The seal wasn't
killed at all! Fule-Tammy told me all about it. He said it had a
young one with it, and they had been spending the night in the skeö.
Uncle does not often miss his mark, but he had missed when he shot at
the seal. Perhaps he missed on purpose, only shot to aggravate the
Manse boys. When he got to the skeö the creature was there, having
hastened back to her little one, and they were easily captured. Uncle
told Harrison that he must not let even his boys know that the seals
had been taken alive."
Signy could keep silence no longer, but clapped her hands delightedly
and cried, "It's as good as a fairy story, brodhor. Oh, I am glad, for
of course they are still alive; uncle would never kill them then."
"Yes, they are alive, and they are in the haunted room at
Trullyabister. They were smuggled there so that even I should not
know; but Tammy can't keep a secret, and he told me one day that Mr.
Neeven had charge of the seal and her baby. I did not dream they were
in the haunted room; but when the Harrison boys and I were on the prowl
the other night I found it out; and then I determined I would restore
the sealkie to Fred Garson. I told the Harrisons there were a mother
and child imprisoned at Trullyabister, and that we must free them from
thraldom."
"And Tom Holtum has found it out too; and that is your quest? How
fine!"
"It is prime, Signy, prime! We are not going to tell the Garsons a
word about it till we restore their lost pet, for we are all convinced
it is their seal."
"But won't uncle be dreadfully angry if you interfere? Won't he stop
all your Vikinging and our meeting----"
"If," Yaspard interrupted, "I were fool enough to show my hand in the
matter. No, no, Mootie, you don't understand a bit. We shall manage
it so cleverly that uncle and Mr. Neeven will take for granted the
sealkie escaped of herself. You see, Uncle Brüs makes laws for himself
that are not proper, so he can't grumble if they don't work to his
satisfaction at all times."
"I wish, though, that we could just beg for the seal, and settle it
nicely," said Signy.
"Not a bit of good; that would make more fuss still, and unsettle
everything, and--I'd lose my fun."
The _Osprey_ was not far from Yelholme by that time, and Yaspard,
pointing to the little isle, said, "It was that old rock with the green
nightcap that caused my capture."
"It's a pretty peerie holme," Signy remarked. "I like the little
morsel of green turf on top. I wonder how it ever manages to grow
there, for the skerry must be swept by the sea more often than not."
"There's something white on it," Yaspard exclaimed, "something white
and moving. Why, goodness me!" and he stood up in great excitement,
"it is awfully like a person."
He moved his helm so as to bring the boat nearer Yelholme than his
course; and very soon they discovered that the "something white" was
really a human being.
"It's a man; and he must be hurt, for he is lying on his side waving to
us. He would stand up if he could," Yaspard cried.
"Oh, poor creature! We must save him," said Signy.
"It will not be very easy to reach the holme this afternoon," Yaspard
remarked thoughtfully. "There's a heavy under-tow there."
"But we can't go away and leave him, brodhor. Just look at him. Now
he tries to raise himself. It is dreadful."
"I wish the Manse boat had come along after all;" and Yaspard scanned
the sea, hoping some boat might be in sight; but there was nothing
moving on the water save the wild birds and his own skiff. After a
moment's silence he said, "We'll make a try, Signy; and if we don't
succeed, we'll tell him we are going to bring more efficient help."
With skill and caution Yaspard brought his boat alongside of the
skerry. The castaway was lying on the turf, battered and helpless. He
could only raise his hands, and watch the boy's movements with intense
emotion; and it was evident he could not help in his own rescue very
much.
"I shall have to land," said Yaspard, "and lug him into the boat
somehow."
He had, of course, dropped the sail, and the boat being on the lee side
of the rock, was easily attached to it, but swung about considerably,
as there was rather more than usual under-tow around the holme,
occasioned by the state of the tide--a circumstance which our young
hero had not sufficiently considered.
"I really don't believe we can get him aboard if he has broken his
bones, as seems the case," the lad remarked, as he jumped upon the
skerry and fastened the boat by the end of a rope to the rocks.
"I am giving her a good length," he said, "so that she can ride free as
the water falls. Do you think you can keep her from scraping with the
boat-hook, Signy?"
She had often performed a similar duty, though not with so much motion
of the sea, and she replied that she would try on the present occasion.
Having settled these points, Yaspard turned to the unfortunate man
lying a few yards from the water's edge. "Are you much hurt?" was the
first question put to him.
"I'm half killed," was the feebly uttered reply; and in truth he looked
three-fourths killed. One leg was broken, and both arms were much cut
and bruised. He had scarcely any clothing on, and was altogether a
most pitiable object.
But Yaspard wasn't going to waste time in talk. "Can you get to the
boat with my help, do you think?" he asked, stooping to assist the man
to rise. But as he attempted to do so the pain overcame him, and he
sank back swooning.
"Poor soul!" muttered Yaspard; "I can't think what to do with him," and
then he pulled off his jacket, laid it gently over the unfortunate
castaway, and tried to revive him by rubbing his chest.
Signy watched her brother's movements with the most eager interest, and
was so engrossed that she scarcely attended to her duty of keeping the
boat from bumping against the rocks. Although her negligence was not
the cause of what happened to the boat, if she had been on the alert
she might have given the alarm in time.
As the _Osprey_ rose and fell with the waves, the rope became chafed on
sharp edges of rock, and parted. The boat swung adrift, and was
carried on a long sweep of the undertow some yards from the skerry; but
the length of rope Yaspard had allowed prevented Signy from wondering.
It was only when she felt the boat dip unchecked over a second long
wave that she glanced at the rope, and saw its end trailing in the
water.
She uttered a startled cry, and Yaspard, looking around, saw with
horror what had taken place.
"Oh, Signy! fling me a rope! No, sit still; be still, dear, or you'll
be over! Oh, my Signy!"
She had half risen from her seat as he sprang to the water's edge and
called to her; but next moment she cowered down in terror, for the
light boat rocked as if it must capsize, then went whirling on the
tideway round the end of the skerry.
Yaspard did not utter a sound after those first few terror-freighted
words. He could only stand motionless and dumb, gazing after the boat,
while Signy, kneeling, stretched out her poor little hands and cried,
"Brodhor! brodhor!"
A groan from the man, for whom Yaspard had inadvertently risked and
lost so much, roused the boy from his stupor of despair; and then he
broke into bitter cries, which ere long explained to his companion
their terrible plight; while farther and farther drifted the _Osprey_,
until even her taper mast could not be distinguished amid the waste of
heaving billows.
And then, in the moment of supreme agony, Yaspard did what Signy had
been doing all the time. He flung himself on his knees and lifted up
his heart to God.