Chapter 7 THE CARL ON THE CLIFF TOP.

Our Viking-boys were not long rowing out the voe that evening. The twilight had come sufficiently for their purpose. It had not brought darkness, but it indicated that a late hour had come, when the inhabitants of Boden were probably at rest indoors. They were so busily engaged laying plans that they did not comment upon the perfect silence which reigned in the geo as they approached. The splash of their oars and the tones of their voices were loud enough to have warned Gloy of their approach, and cause him to make some response. But he didn't.

A joyous bark from Pirate was the first thing to draw the attention, and then the lads noticed that the dog was alone.

"Guess Gloy is taking a nap, stupid fellow!" Yaspard remarked, and then he hallooed as they ran the light skiff high and dry upon the sand.

No answer came to the halloo, and a brief glance sufficed to show that their prisoner was not in the geo. The place was small and without any corner for concealment. It was light enough to see all round the geo. Of a certainty Gloy was not slumbering, and Gloy was not there!

The lads were too amazed to utter a word, but Pirate made up for their silence by barking and howling his delight at being in company once more. Dogs are very social, and solitude had not been pleasing to Pirate. The first person to speak was Lowrie, and a certain amount of satisfaction was displayed in his countenance: he rather believed in his own cuteness, and thought he had found the solution of the puzzle.

"It was stupid of us," he said, "to forget that Gloy can take the water like a sealkie. He would swim round the rocks till he reached an easy landing-place. There are plenty quite near."

"Pirate was on guard," said Yaspard, "and would not have allowed him to quit the geo unless I had given a word of command. Besides, Gloy let us understand that he would not try to escape, and knew that I trusted him, therefore took no further precautions."

"Perhaps a boat came by and picked him up," Lowrie answered, scratching his head for some new ideas.

"Has any boat been near Boden voe to-day?"

"We have not seen any. I think faither wad have kent if any boat had been this way, for he has gleg een in respect o' boats."

"There is only one boat he would have gone with, and that is the Laulie," said Yaspard musingly. "Perhaps the Manse boys came after us in real Viking fashion, and in that case--"

"Hi!" Gibbie exclaimed then, catching sight of Yaspard's fishing-rod, stuck upright in the sand at the farther side of the geo. A bit of white paper fluttering on top of the rod had drawn Gibbie's attention, and he was not long in seizing upon this. It had been carefully tied to the line and fastened on the rod, and when the paper was released the three eagerly put their heads together to read what was written inside.

In Gloy's cramped, unformed caligraphy was traced a few words, mysterious, but, on the whole, reassuring.

"I'm all right. I haven't broken faith with you, and no more has Pirate; but you need not be scared about me.-I am still THE PRISONER."

"Well, this beats everything!" Yaspard exclaimed then grasping Pirate by his shaggy coat, he cried, "Oh, my dog, if you could speak English! I believe you could if you tried. Tell us, Pirate, where has our lawful captive gone?"

Pirate yelped and jumped around, then ran to the boat and looked wistfully at his master as much as to say, "Why do you remain in such a horrid hole? This is no place for you or me."

Interpreting his actions aright, the Viking said, "I suppose you are about right, doggie; you've been here too long already, and there is nothing to keep us here any longer."

Considerably crestfallen and perplexed, they left the geo, and sailed slowly up the voe once more, asking one another what was to be done next.

"I suppose we must believe that Gloy is all right," said Lowrie, "so we needn't concern ourselves about his life at the present time."

"He says he is still the prisoner," said Yaspard musingly; then after a long pause he added, "Look here, boys, we might as well go on with this night's performance as far as we can without our captive. We can possess ourselves of his intended 'cell' (in spite of this horrid 'sell'), and we can make it ready for him as we intended, in the hope that he will render himself into the hands of his conquerors as a true knight should."

"All serene," was Lowrie's reply; and Gibbie added, "Just so."

So in the grey, quiet "dim" the Osprey swept silently through the Hoobes and brought up at the "dyke-end," where she had stopped in the afternoon when Signy was the Viking's sole companion.

Yaspard alone jumped on shore. "Keep her off," he whispered, as if an army of enemies were in ambush close by; "don't fasten her until I give the signal that the coast is clear."

Having so given his orders, he set off up the hill, dodging behind turf walls and creeping along knolls, so that no watchful eyes at Trullyabister could detect his approach.

There is no real night in those regions when summer is in its prime, therefore Yaspard's precautions were necessary if he required to steal unawares upon the scene.

When within a short distance of the old house a backdoor suddenly opened and fule-Tammy came out carrying a peat-keschie. He was going to the stack for fuel, and the particular stack he meant to visit happened to be the very object behind which Yaspard crouched.

"If," thought the boy, "he comes round this end of the stack I'm done for."

But Tammy didn't. He always attacked a peat-stack from the point nearest the house, so he placed his keschie[1] at a convenient height on the broken side of the stack, and lazily proceeded to fill it with peats. Tammy had a habit, common in half-wits, of talking loudly to himself, and as he filled his keschie he declaimed in Yaspard's hearing-

"Na, na! I ken wha wad get the raiding-strake[2] if I was to gie them the run o' the raubit-house; and where wad a' my night-sports be? and what wad come o' the Trows if I let the boys rumble ower a'?"

As he piled the peats he went on talking in a disconnected, and to Yaspard, very incomprehensible, manner about midnight revels and strange beings who doubtless had a certain kind of existence in Tammy's imagination. Only one thing he said attracted the boy's serious attention, and remained in his recollection to throw light on future events.

As Tammy raised the keschie to his shoulder he exclaimed in a kind of exultation, "They think me a puir 'natural,' that can do nae gude to man or beast, but for a' that it's myself that's pit mair light upon wir isle as ever men and money will pit, though the Laird-puir body-speaks aboot it evermair, and evermair will speak. Yea, yea! puir Tammy and his pate-keschie does mair for ill-luckit, wandering sea-folk than does the muckle kirk and the peerie[3] queen pit together. And, though I say it that shouldna, puir Tammy kens when tae wake and when tae sleep better than them that has their heads fu' o' brains and books forby."

So maundering, Tammy returned to the house, and closed the back-door behind him, and then Yaspard stole round to the uninhabited and ruined portion of the house to reconnoitre.

When satisfied that the "coast was clear," he whistled softly in such perfect imitation of a golden plover, that the Harrisons, waiting for that same signal, were not quite sure that it was Yaspard, and no bird. But when the wild musical notes had been repeated three distinct times, they knew that it was their captain's call.

Fastening the boat to the dyke-end, they hastened to raise the foot-boards and open lockers fore and aft. From these hiding-places they took a curious assortment of articles-a blanket and towel, armour in plenty, a knife, fork, plate, and mug; two candles, a box of matches, and a basket of nondescript victuals. Stowing these into two keschies brought for the purpose, they slung the baskets on to their backs, and marched confidently up the hill, assured that Yaspard would give the alarm if danger was to be apprehended.

They reached his side without any adventure, and then all three clambered over the broken wall into what had been a goodly apartment-now roofless and in ruin. At the farther end of this room there was a low doorway, leading to a dark passage; and as Yaspard walked boldly towards it Gibbie said in a frightened whisper, "No' that way! surely no' that way? Yon passage ends in the haunted room."

"The haunted room, you goose, is just the place that is to be our captive's cell," replied the Viking.

"I thought ye meant this room, or some other bit that's fallen tae ruin," Gibbie muttered, and hesitating to follow the others, who went boldly along the passage, intending to enter the haunted room by a broken doorway of which Yaspard had been aware. His chagrin was great to find that aperture closed by a number of stout boards nailed firmly across it.

"What a bother! Now, I wonder why on earth this has been done?" Yaspard exclaimed aloud, disappointment overcoming caution; but he was recalled to the "position" on hearing some strange sounds on the other side of the boarding, evidently provoked by his own unguarded tones. The sounds were like a child's cry, blended with the sharp short barking noise which is supposed to be the manner in which trows give expression to their mirth; and these vocal utterances were supplemented by a sound of scratching and thumping applied to the boards.

The boys retreated into the outer room, where Gilbert had remained. He was leaning over the ruin, looking up at a window in the angle of the wall, and when the others reached him he said in tones of fear, "Look! there is a light in the haunted room!"

[1] A basket.

[2] "Raiding-strake," the final blow which clears up everything.

[3] "Peerie," little.