Once outside of Boden voe, it did not take long to reach Havnholme. The Laulie was lying along the crags safely moored there, and her crew were asleep in the old shed, where they had spent many a night before. They had had a long day of exciting sport, and were wrapped in sleep more profound than usual.
But when the Osprey came within hailing distance, Yaspard ran up a black flag and raised a shout of "A Viking! a Viking!" His companions took up the cry, and Pirate, setting his fore-paws on the bow, barked and howled like mad. Such a hullaballoo was enough to waken anybody, and the Lunda boys—half-awake—rushed out of the shed, and stood staring in dumb-foundered amazement at the foe!
The Harrisons burst out laughing at the ludicrous spectacle of four lads rubbing their eyes, scratching their heads, shaking themselves straight in their clothes, and looking as if there never had been half an idea in one of their minds. But Yaspard shouted in grandiloquent style—
"You, lads of Lunda there, listen! We are Vikinger in search of glory and spoil, and all the rest of it. But we do not take our enemy unawares. We would not assail slumberers. We are nineteenth century enough to fight fair. So now, look to yourselves!"
During these few minutes the Osprey had reached the crags, and was alongside of the Laulie. As he finished speaking the young marauder, leaning over to the other boat, undid her painter, and hitching it to his own boat, shouted to his companions to row off again. They pulled out from the shore, and the Laulie was captured before her crew had waked up enough to comprehend what was going on.
"It's Yaspard Adiesen masquerading like an ass," said Harry Mitchell at last.
"It will only be a bit of fun," Gloy Winwick ventured to say, for by that time he had recognised Lowrie and Gibbie. They were his cousins, and he had often met them, and heard of the curious games which young Adiesen invented for their amusement and his own. "There will be nae harm in it. It's just his way. He's queer."
The last half of his remarks was given in an aside to Tom Holtum, but Tom only growled, "Bother the fellow! What does he mean by such preposterous impudence?"
Tom's temper was easily roused; and, followed by the others, he ran to the crag and shouted, "Give us none of your humbug! Bring back the boat, or it will be the worse for you!"
A mocking laugh was all the answer he got; and this so exasperated Tom that he was about to fling a volley of abuse to the enemy, but Harry checked him. Harry was always the first to look at a thing from more points than one, and now he said in an undertone, "I expect it is only some nonsensical make-believe. Yaspard is a baby in some ways, I am told; and he never exchanges a word with gentlemen's sons—lives horribly alone, you know. Let's humour him a bit, and see what it will come to."