Viking Boys Part 11

Bill hauled the smaller boat alongside and clambered into her, making noise and demonstration enough, as he did so, to scare any ordinary bird; but Thor did not stir from the spot until Bill's hands were almost on him. Then he merely hopped from the one boat to the other, remarking as he did it, "Just so!" which of course sent the boys off yelling as before with wild laughter.

Now, no self-respecting raven will endure to be laughed at, especially when he is merely repeating a boy's pet phrase. Nor will he tamely submit to being chased from stem to stern with shouts of "Shoo! shoo!"

Thor felt trebly insulted just then; possibly he believed that "Shoo!

shoo!" had something to do with shooies, and the allusion was ill-timed he considered.

After much noise and hustling, and what Thor looked upon as unseemly action, he came to the conclusion that a boat is not always an ark of refuge, nor is one's master always to be depended upon as a sure help in time of need. With these thoughts came a recollection of the comforts of Moolapund and the more fit companionship of Mr. Adiesen.

That settled the point in Thor's mind.

"Bad boy! Shoo!" he burst forth wrathfully, and then screeching out, "Uncle, Pirate, uncle, uncle, uncle!" he spread his great wings and took a bee-line for Moolapund.

Loud hurrahs followed him; but Thor never looked back once, never turned to the right or the left, but, swift as possible in his c.u.mbered condition, flew home, and alighting on the parlour window-sill, began to jabber every word he knew, without the least attention to either grammar or construction of words, and in such excited tones that Mr.

Adiesen's attention was drawn to him. Thor was admitted at once, and freed from his burden. Then the message was read; and while the Laird read, Miss Osla and Signy waited in fear and trembling, but never a word spoke the old man.

"What has that boy been doing?" the boy's aunt asked at length.

"Taking his turn at being captive, as I warned him might happen."

"Oh, Uncle Brus, have they taken Yaspard?" Signy cried in great excitement.

"'Captured on the high seas; taken in chains to Collaster.--THE VIKING,'" Mr. Adiesen read with impressive solemnity; and Miss Osla, scarcely understanding what was the state of the case, or whether her brother was joking, or the reverse, exclaimed--

"Dear, dear! whatever has he been about now? He is the very strangest boy. To Collaster! in chains! What a foolish, foolish boy! He must have been interfering with some of those young Mitch.e.l.ls. Of course Mr. Garson has nothing to do with his nonsense!"

Mr. Adiesen had walked out of the room long before she stopped; and her bewilderment was much increased by Signy saying delightedly--

"Captured! and taken to Collaster! Oh, how pleased brodhor must be!"

CHAPTER XIII.

"HE IS YOUNG AND OF LITTLE KNOWLEDGE."

The lads found that it was so late when they neared Lunda, that it would be best to divide, one boat going to Collaster, and the other proceeding to Westervoe; so Tom and Yaspard (the latter on a kind of parole) were transferred to the _Osprey_, which immediately made sail for Collaster, while the Manse boat conveyed the Mitch.e.l.ls to their own home.

The Holtums were lingering over their supper when Tom presented himself, bringing his captive with hands fastened together by a lanyard borrowed from Harry Mitch.e.l.l for the purpose. The captive's glowing face, afire with fun and joyous antic.i.p.ation, did not accord with the humiliating position in which he was introduced by Tom; and his reception by the Doctor and Mrs. Holtum certainly did not indicate anything like hostile feeling.

The lanyard was laughingly untied by the Doctor, who said, as he released and shook Yaspard's hands, "I am sure you can trust your prisoner with so much liberty, Tom."

"Of course," said Tom; "I didn't see the fun of roping him at all, but he would have it so, and the Mitch.e.l.ls said it looked more ship-shape."

"Besides," added Yaspard, "I wanted Uncle Brus to know that I didn't come here of my own free will and free-handed."

"I quite understand," replied the Doctor, very much amused at the whole affair. "But _now_ it is quite proper that your manacles be removed.

You remember how the Black Prince treated his French prisoners? My Tom must not be less courteous to a Viking! Now, boys, let us hear how all this came about."

Nothing loth, Tom and Yaspard related their adventures, and very entertaining these were; but when they described the sending home of Thor, Dr. Holtum's face grew somewhat grave, and he seemed pondering within himself.

When Tom had conducted his prisoner to his cell--which was one of the best bedrooms--and returned to bid good-night, his father said, "Tom, lad, I am not altogether satisfied that yon corbie was a trustworthy messenger. Suppose he did _not_ carry news of Yaspard to Moolapund?"

"Yaspard never doubted he would."

The Doctor shook his head. "If," he said, "by any chance they have _not_ heard of the boy they will be very anxious about him. I think you must take a note from me to the fishing-station. Some of the boats will be leaving for the haaf even now, and as they run past Boden, I am sure one of them will put in there with my letter."

"Let me go with it, father!" Tom cried eagerly. "I am not a bit tired or sleepy; and it will be such fun. Do let me go!"

Permission was given, a note to Mr. Adiesen written by Dr. Holtum, and Tom despatched as envoy. He soon found a skipper willing to land him on Boden, and in the grey, quiet night, this most prosaic of the Lunda lads was started on a somewhat eerie journey. A great deal of time would have been lost if the haaf-boat had carried him into Boden voe, so Tom good-naturedly requested to be put ash.o.r.e at the nearest point, determined to walk across the island to Moolapund. Tom had declared that he was neither tired nor sleepy, but he was both; and by the time he had walked over a mile of Boden heath he was fain to stop more than once and take a brief rest. Each time he sat down on the soft, fragrant verdure, he felt less inclined to get up. How it happened at last he never knew, but Tom sat down by an old planticru,[1] and remained there; and there he was lying in blissful slumber when the sun was well up over the Heogue, and Gaun Neeven had come out for an early stroll. He always took his walks abroad when the rest of the Boden folk were in their beds, therefore it was believed that he seldom went out at all.

If a philosopher like Mr. Neeven, who had pa.s.sed through many years of most exciting life, could be surprised, he was when, coming around the planticru, he stumbled upon Tom Holtum, spread out at ease, and unconscious of his position.

The man stood stock still for some minutes, contemplating the prostrate figure, until a grim smile gradually spread over his melancholy countenance; then stooping, he touched Tom's face and said, "Wake up, lad, wake up!"

Tom's eyes were wide open in a moment, and he sat up and stared at the disturber of his repose.

"What are you doing here?" Mr. Neeven asked, in his usual stern tones, which did not help to clarify Tom's understanding of his own position.

He stammered some very incoherent words, which were no explanation at all, and did not even attempt to get on his feet.

Mr. Neeven was not a patient man. "Get up," he said, "and come with me. I must know what you mean by skulking about my house in the night-time."

Tom rose slowly, and then discovered that he was in the near vicinity of Trullyabister.

"This is a pretty fix," thought he, as he followed Mr. Neeven. "I believe I'll bolt!"

But a moment's reflection showed him how futile any attempt at escape would be, so he silently proceeded in Mr. Neeven's wake, repenting him sorely for being so foolish as to fall asleep that night.

When they were in the dismal apartment where the recluse spent the greater part of his time poring over books and nursing his gloomy thoughts, he pointed to a chair, and taking one himself, said briefly--

"Now give a proper account of yourself."

Tom could be concise and to the point in speech as well as Mr. Neeven, and having recovered his usual _sang-froid_, he explained his appearance in Boden in few plain words.

It was the first Gaun Neeven had heard of his young relative turning Viking, and he was surprised to find a strange something within himself leap and stir warmly at the tale of Yaspard's adventures, even though told in Tom's unvarnished matter-of-fact style. Was it not a like "craze" which had rioted within his own blood when he was a boy, and had sent him out into the world to fight and jostle men, to win renown, and prove his manhood by risking life and limb in all kinds of mad adventure? Nothing had so moved that self-contained, moody man for years, and even obtuse Tom could see that his story had touched some hidden spring of feeling. The stern lines had relaxed, and there was a softer though more intense light in the man's eyes.

Taking advantage of what he would have styled "a melting mood," Tom begged to be allowed to carry his father's letter to its destination.

"And after that," he said, "on the honour of a gentleman, I will come back to you, and you can make of me what you please."

"The letter shall go to Mr. Adiesen at a proper hour," replied Mr.

Neeven. "He is asleep at present, and I happen to know he is _not_ uneasy about his nephew. You had better lie down on this sofa and finish your own nap, while I finish my walk. Later I will tell you what I require you to do."

He walked out of the room, shutting the door with a key, and leaving Tom a veritable prisoner.

"He might have trusted me," muttered Tom; "but since he hasn't put me on my honour, I shall do my best to escape---- Gracious! what's that?"

The lad was very wide-awake, and not the least inclined to go to sleep again. His exclamation had been caused by a curious sharp barking noise, mingled with plaintive crying, which roused Tom's pity as well as astonishment. He ran to the window, fancying the sounds came from that side, and hoping to see something to explain what they meant. He was not disappointed. The window of the haunted room was not far from that of Mr. Neeven's sitting-room, and at that window Tom saw the same unearthly visage which had startled Yaspard and the Harrisons.

"Whe-e-ew!" whistled Tom, thrusting his fists far down his pockets, as was his wont when the solution of any difficulty penetrated the somewhat "thick skin" which enveloped his remarkably sound and shrewd understanding.