"MEET AND RIGHT IT IS, FAIR LORD, THAT I SHOULD GO."
The day before that on which the picnic was to take place a mysterious
communication passed between the young Laird of Lunda and Yaspard
Adiesen, the effect of which was to set our Viking into a fit of the
fidgets combined with a state of exhilaration of spirit that threatened
to effervesce in a dangerous manner at any moment.
But nothing more serious came of it than the startling of Miss Osla's
wits by an apparition of her nephew prancing downstairs with one of
Signy's old dolls in his arms, and his face and head wrapped in a piece
of black linen, upon which our young hero had sketched a death's-head
and cross-bones. As the terrific symbols were spread over his face, it
was scarcely wonderful that Miss Osla got a fright, and called him a
profane boy; but Signy--who was following her brother--explained that
"it" was only the "black flag," and that it would never frighten
anybody any more; with which explanation the gentle old auntie was
quite satisfied.
Friday came, a glorious summer day, and promising to continue so.
Yaspard was up early, putting some finishing touches to his boat, which
had been undergoing a good deal of cleaning and painting in honour of
the occasion.
He was all impatience to be off soon, desiring to be the first at the
rendezvous; but Uncle Brüs was not a person who liked to be hurried,
and took his usual time to finish breakfast and feed his pets in spite
of Yaspard's fidgets.
Fortunately the Harrison brothers (who were to be the _Osprey's_ crew
that day) arrived soon; and he found some relief in discussing with
them the projected "lark" to which I have alluded, and which will be
recorded in its proper place.
At last Mr. Adiesen and his sister came from the house, the former
carrying a vasculum and field-telescope, the latter burdened with
shawls and umbrellas, which were an insult to the sun, smiling that day
as he seldom condescends to smile on Hialtland.
Signy followed her guardians, and Pirate came with her, bounding and
barking his delight--for he was still a young dog, and expressed his
pleasure naturally, as young creatures do.
Yaspard's eager impatience did not prevent him from noting his little
sister's attractive appearance, and he called out as she came running
to the quay, "Why, Mootie, you do look spiff[1] to be sure! Where on
earth did you get that elegant frock from?"
"Out of Aunt Osla's bullyament[2] boxes," said she; and Aunt Osla
herself explained that the bairn's "best things" had been worsted
during her terrible adventure, which had obliged Miss Adiesen to make a
new dress. All the same, Signy knew that the good lady had consulted
with Mam Kirsty, and had come to the conclusion, fortified by the
opinion of her _aide-de-camp_, that "whether or no," such an important
occasion demanded a new frock for the queen of the revels.
The Shetland ladies of that time were wont to keep "by them" a hoard of
"material," seeing that shops were beyond their reach; therefore Miss
Adiesen was at no loss to provide a suitable and elegant picnic costume
for the darling of Boden; and the result did credit to her taste and
ingenuity.
As the family party were taking their places in the boat, two
unexpected guests arrived with the evident intention of joining the
others. These were Thor and Mr. Neeven. Thor coolly lighted aboard
and settled himself close by Mr. Adiesen, remarking, as he did so,
"Just so! Bad boy! bad boy! Uncle!"
These observations evidently referred to Pirate--not the scientist--who
was lying at their master's feet with head lovingly rested against his
knee, a position which Thor never liked to see occupied by any one, for
he was a jealous bird.
Mr. Adiesen welcomed Sir Raven by handing him a crust from the
capacious pocket which never failed to carry a supply of such tokens of
good-will. While addressing Thor in the way he liked best, the old
gentleman greeted his cousin by saying, "Glad you thought better of it,
and have come, Gaun. Fine day for an excursion, this. Here is a
comfortable place for you," and he made room for Neeven beside Miss
Osla; but the recluse merely nodded "Good morning" to his relatives,
stepped along the thwarts to the bow, and seated himself there.
His ways, peculiar and not meant for incivility, were too well known to
provoke comment. The _Osprey_ was shoved off by Yaspard, while Lowrie
and Gibbie got out a pair of oars to help the boat along, as the wind
was very light.
Brüs Adiesen was in high good spirits, and insisted upon taking an oar
too as soon as his nephew sat down to row. Then Signy began to sing
for very gladness of soul, as the birds do. Yaspard took up the chorus
of her song, which was commented upon by Thor in his usual sage manner;
and even Miss Osla forgot to seem afraid of the sea--a sentimental
fashion which had been considered a feminine attraction in the days of
her youth.
Altogether the _Osprey's_ party was as happy and almost as blithe a one
as that of the _Laulie_, which arrived at the little bay of Havnholme a
few minutes after the Boden boat. Shortly afterwards two more boats
arrived in company. These were the _Vaigher_ and _Mermaid_, containing
all the rest of Fred's guests. He was in his father's place at the
Vaigher's helm, presiding, as his father would have done, over the
safety of the elder and more sober portion of the party. His sister
Isobel had the management of the little _Mermaid_, and her companions
were Gerta Bruce and Amy Congreve, who had, of course, accompanied
Garth Halsen and his father, the Yarl of Burra Isle. Any of us who
made the acquaintance of the Yarl, his household, and guests from
England, will know all about those girls and Garth, and will expect fun
where they appear.
It is a real pleasure to me (and I hope to you who read this) to renew
my acquaintance with the Burra Isle contingent; to look once more on
the tender faces of Mrs. Holtum and the "little mother" of those Manse
boys, and to hear the minister's genial laugh, as well as the Doctor's
cheery voice.
What a shaking of hands and clatter of voices there were, to be sure!
Even Pirate had to make a demonstration, for Watchie had accompanied
the Holtums, and was ready to be friends with any dog. The only person
who did not share in the general good-will and hilarity, who seemed
indeed to be out of place among so many pleasant folk, and to feel
himself quite above all such demonstrations of peace, was Thor. After
surveying the "ongoings" from the safe point of a masthead, he came to
the conclusion that the proceedings interested him no more, and with a
dismal croak he flew off to the skeö, and, seating himself on the
topmost point of its ruinous gable, commented in very uncomplimentary
terms upon the ways of mankind. As his opinions were expressed aloud,
and accompanied by many grotesque and expressive gestures, he created a
good deal of amusement, although Mr. Adiesen remarked gravely enough,
"We ought not to have allowed Thor to accompany us."
"He won't stay at home unless he is shut up," Yaspard explained; and
Signy added, "Poor old Thor! I dare say he is more pleased than he
_seems_."
"Perhaps," Fred whispered aside to the brother and sister, "the
Thunderer, the god of war, can appreciate a peace celebration as well
as others."
"Anyway," replied Yaspard, "there ought to be a 'chief mourner' at the
funeral, and I don't know who can undertake the part if Thor will not."
"Funeral! What do you mean, brodhor?" Signy asked, with eyes very wide
open; whereupon he beseeched her to be silent, or the cat would be out
of the bag in a jiffy; and Signy, still wondering but submissive, held
her peace, while Yaspard went rollicking from group to group, singing
to a doleful tune with a grin on his face--
"Thus said the Rover
To his jolly crew,
_Down_ with the black flag,
_Up_ with the blue.
Shake hands on main-deck,
Shake hands on bow;
Shake hands amidships,
Kiss down below."
"You are improving on Scott, I hear," said Garth Halsen. "I didn't
know you went in for being a poet as well as a Viking."
"No more I do, but _I_ know you write poetry," retorted Yaspard; and
then Fred said, "Yes; and do you know he has been impudent enough to
compose a ballad about a legend of your family, boy? Think of that! I
liked the ballad so well that I asked Garth to bring it along and give
us all the benefit; so you are to hear the story of your own
great-granduncle, whose namesake you are, done into verse, with all the
Viking and Shetlandic accompaniments. What think you of that?"
"It depends upon how it is treated," quoth Yaspard with most unusual
caution, and eyeing Garth as if he were some curious specimen more fit
for Uncle Brüs's cabinets than a picnic.
Aunt Osla, however, was charmed with the idea, said it was a very
pitiful story, quite true, and just suitable for a ballad; so Garth's
verses were to be read after lunch and other ceremonies were over--for
other ceremonies there were to be, as all could guess who saw Fred
Garson talking eagerly apart with Yaspard, then choose a lovely green
spot, and say, "This will do. Our dining hall can be on that flat
lower down, but _this_ is exactly what we want. You might get some of
the fellows to bring up a few stones, while I fetch the flag-staff."
Off went Yaspard, and soon the Harrisons and Mitchell boys were helping
him to convey some large stones to the brae which Fred had chosen.
"To fix a flag-staff" was all he told them, and they were not
inquisitive, although our Viking's smile and knowing look betokened
something much more important than the erection of a flag-staff.
"That will do, boys," said Fred, returning from his boat with a long
stout stick and a spade, and in a short time the noble flag of noblest
Britain, the beautiful red, white, and blue, with its mingled crosses
telling so much of Britain's fame and story, was floating over
Havnholme.
[1] Smartly dressed.
[2] Odds and ends.