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 Mitchells said it looked more ship-shape."
"Besides," added Yaspard, "I wanted Uncle Brüs 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 ashore 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 planticrü,[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.