Fred had got the whole story from Bill, and he rightly conjectured that the return of the raven would have raised some anxiety, seeing that Yaspard had told his sister that Thor should bring a message, and Thor should precede the Osprey by only a few hours. Thor bearing no message, and followed by no boat, was indeed an ill omen. Moreover, he had reached home ravenously hungry, and in a very sulky, savage mood, which added to Signy's fears regarding her brother, although Uncle Brüs pooh-poohed the little girl's presentiment of evil.
But the arrival of Fred's messenger and Gibbie made a commotion in Boden, we may be sure, and nothing would satisfy either Mr. Adiesen or James Harrison but they must start off and bring home their boys. You may imagine their surprise and disgust to hear, on arriving at Broch, that Yaspard—restored to all his wonted spirit and energy by a good night's rest—had borrowed a boat, and accompanied by Harry and Lowrie, and a clever seaman who knew well how to clamp the broken ribs of a boat, had gone to Swarta Stack to repair and bring home the Osprey.
"The boy is stark mad!" exclaimed Uncle Brüs; but the Yarl, whose soul throbbed in sympathy with that of our Viking-boy, made answer, "His head is as straight on his shoulders as need be. That lad is made of the right stuff, and will be heard of in the world some day. You need not be afraid for him."
"I suppose we ought to go and help him?" the scientist said; but Halsen shook his head. "Even I," he said, "felt it would be best, kindest, to let the lads take their own way. They were bent upon bringing back their boat triumphantly, and they'll do it. Let us leave them all the satisfaction and glory that they can get out of their adventures."
And I tell you Yaspard's heart glowed with a good deal of satisfaction when he sailed the Osprey up Burra Wick that afternoon, her flag flaunting from the mast-head as gaily as when she sailed away on her voyage of discovery and peril.
Right heartily the good old Yarl and his guests and son cheered the gallant boy and his comrades, as the boat, a little lob-sided, and considerably scratched and battered, ran along the crags, and came to below Broch. Hearty indeed was the welcome they received, and neither Mr. Adiesen nor Harrison let the boys know that they were there for the purpose of looking after "those roving madcaps."
In truth Uncle Brüs was not a little proud of his nephew, and made him repeat the story of his swim with Pirate, which Yaspard did, entirely unconscious of the heroism he had displayed.
"What did you think most about when you were in the water?" Mr. Adiesen asked after a time—his scientific instincts rising above emotion, and prompting him to discover what are the sensations a human being experiences in such exceptional circumstances.
"I thought of Mam Kirsty's old song, 'My cradle and my grave,' chiefly. I had committed my life to God's hand when I started. Just before I landed I thought I saw Signy holding out her hands, as she did when she went adrift. That's about all."
"Well, my dear, I think you must feel that you have had enough of Vikinging for the rest of your life," said the scientist with a smile; but he was not ill-pleased when his nephew answered, "It has only made me long for more! I want now to do real good Viking work. I want to go out and explore the world—the stars, if that were possible—and to fight all the foes of the Red Cross, and to bury all feuds, and win name and fame like a right noble and right valiant Viking."