Chapter 14

"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.