I have not been able to describe Yaspard's grief when he lost sight of the Osprey, and I am less able to describe his joy upon seeing her floating snug against the crags which were the favourite landing-place on Havnholme. But neither he nor Fred could utter a Bound when they caught sight of Signy lying under shelter of the skeö, which had been of like service to many a person before; but never surely to so fair, delicate, and forlorn a creature as she—when she quitted the boat on the previous evening, and sank down on the spot to weep herself into unconsciousness. The sun had gone down, and had risen, and was fast sinking to rest behind the western waves again, but Signy had never moved from the place. Once or twice she had waked up, and gazed wildly around until she had once more realised her position, then with a low cry, that was yet a prayer, she had buried her face in the grass again and lapsed into that state of half slumber, half stupor, which was a merciful relief from the more keen realisation of her position.
In trembling haste her brother and Fred landed, and ran to where she lay; but so lifeless did she seem that Yaspard paused beside her, and dared not even stoop for a nearer look.
It was Fred Garson who lifted her head, and tenderly put the hair back from the white, innocent face; then said with tears, "Thank God, this is only sleep!"
Down Yaspard dropped on his knees by Signy, and when she opened her eyes they lighted first on her brother's face—white as her own, but full of gladness and love.
For a few moments she did not realise what had happened to her. "Brodhor! I had a strange dream," she murmured—"a terrible dream. But—where am I? Oh! I remember! Oh, Yaspard! you have found me! Oh, God heard all I said to Him!"
She leaned back on Fred's arm again, and looked up at him with the same confiding look she had raised when they were galloping over the Lunda heath, and she said very sweetly, "In the boat I thought of you helping Yaspard to find me."
They had brought wine and other nourishment with them, hoping that these might be found of use in that very way; and after Signy had partaken of refreshment, she was able to smile a little and tell them how she managed to land.
"The boat just went where it liked," she said, "and I was so dreadfully frightened for a little while. Then, as I prayed, it seemed all at once that I wasn't afraid any more, so I sat still and watched the sea, and wondered who would pick me up. After a long, long time the boat stopped rocking, and then I knew she had got out of the tides into the bay here. I had been here with Yaspard, and knew it; and I thought if I could row, or steer, or something, I might get the Osprey to the land. I was afraid to try with the oars, so I went and steered, and I really managed to turn the boat so that she was carried to the shore at the right place. I got out and tied the rope as I had seen Yaspard do. It felt so nice to stand on the ground again! But I was very tired; and I came up here, and looked all round at the sea, and I never had felt it to be a dreadful, dreadful thing before—never in my life! I had so loved the sea! But then—oh, it seemed so large, and powerful, and cruel! Somehow I began to tremble all over after that, and I am afraid I cried very much. I am not sure when it was I fell asleep, but it seems ages ago."
They would not let her talk any more about what had happened, but turned the conversation to home, and Signy was soon able to chat on that theme with a degree of composure.
After being rested and cheered, Fred carried Signy to the Lunda boat, saying to Yaspard as he did so, "We must all go together; and we can't bother with a boat in tow, so we had better secure the Osprey here till she can be fetched."