"Do you mean to tell me there is a stone bearing letters like that on these cliffs?"
"Yes; it's a long kind of stone, something like a cross without arms."
"I thought I had walked over every inch of this island, yet I have never noticed it."
"It was quite covered with brambles," said Isobel. "I found it when we were picking blackberries. I had to pull them all away before I could see it."
"If you can leave your domestic cares, I should very much like you to show it to me," said the colonel. "I happen to be particularly interested in such stones."
"I'll go at once," said Isobel, putting the kettle among the ashes, where it could not boil over, and slamming on her hat. "It looks ever so worn and old, but the letters are cut in the stone, like they are on graves."
She led the way up the steep, narrow path which scaled the hill, on to the cliff above, and after a little hunting about, found the brambly spot which had been the scene of her quarrel with Belle.
The owner of the island knelt down and examined the stone intently for some moments.
"To think that I must have passed this place dozens and dozens of times and never have known of its existence!" he said at last. "I have searched the neighbourhood so often for some record of the Viking period. Strange that it should be found now by the chance discovery of a child!"
"Are they really letters, then?" inquired Isobel. "Is it some foreign language?"