Chapter 9 NO NEED OF BINDING OR SALVING HERE.

That afternoon the Osprey, with the three young rovers and Pirate aboard, went out the voe. They were not so jubilant as they had expected to be when sailing to meet the foe, for they were not at all sure how the lads of Lunda would receive their story of Gloy's disappearance.

The place of meeting was Havnholme, and when they neared that island Yaspard's quick eyes detected the Laulie moored by the crags and a group of boys standing near the ske? watching for the Boden boat.

"They've come in force!" our Viking exclaimed. "Five of them, no less! and one's a man!"

"Why, one is Gloy!" cried Gibbie; and-in more subdued tones-Lowrie added "And the man is Mr. Garson, the young Laird o' Lunda!"

"That's jolly!" Yaspard said; "but how Gloy got there beats me to imagine," and he cast a reproachful glance at Pirate, who was looking up into his master's face with such an expression of fidelity in his honest brown eyes that the boy could not resist their appeal. He took the dog's head between his hands and said, "No, Pirate, I will not think you broke faith with me."

"The mystery will soon be cleared up now," remarked Lowrie, as he lowered the sail and directed his brother to row gently, so that they might bring up alongside of the Laulie.

By the time their boat was moored to the crags, the Lunda boys and their chief were standing there, all grinning from ear to ear. As for Gloy, he was all "one huge laugh," Yaspard said, with some exasperation in his tone.

"I suppose I mustn't shake hands with you, Mr. Garson," the Viking said, addressing himself to Fred as he jumped on shore; but Fred laughed and caught both of Yaspard's hands in his as he replied, "Nonsense, man! You ought to know that honourable enemies do not scruple to shake hands even on the eve of battle. I was exceedingly pleased with your letter, and very glad to make your acquaintance under any circumstances."

"Even Uncle Brüs could not hold out against a fellow like you!" Yaspard exclaimed, as he returned that hearty hand-clasp, and looked into the winsome, manly face, so much endowed with the magnetic power that drew all hearts to Fred Garson.

They all laughed at Yaspard's words, but they all knew how potent was Fred's spell, and did not wonder at the boy's enthusiasm.

"I suppose," said Fred then, "that before I answer your letter we should explain about your captive, taken in fair war, and here ready to yield himself back into your hands if you are not satisfied with his explanation and the ransom we bring."

"It's here-just as you stipulated," Bill Mitchell exclaimed, rattling a little tin pail he carried; "pebbles wet with the waves of Westervoe. See!" and he jerked off the lid and showed some stones in a pail full of salt water.

"If I were Gloy," burst forth the blunt and tactless Tom Holtum, "I'd be ashamed of being valued at such a trumpery price. If you had priced him against a bit of lichen torn from the Head of Calloster, which might have cost us our lives to procure, that would have been more like the thing. But beach stones in salt water, bah!"

"Tom, lad!" said Fred gently, "if you were living in a city far from Lunda-as I have been-you would put a higher price on pebbles wet with the sea that girdles the old isle. I picked up a small stone myself, when I left home for the first time, and I carried it always in my pocket. I keep it still for sake of its memories; one values a trifle for reasons known only to himself."

His companions had not reached the age when boys learn to put a little sentiment into their actions, so they only stared in surprised silence; but Yaspard fully appreciated what Fred said, and remarked, "It was a little like that way that I was thinking when I bade them bring those pebbles. I must not go to Westervoe myself, so I thought I'd like to have something from it. I thought I should feel more like one of you boys-not so much by myself, and all that sort of thing-if I could handle something that reminded me of you." Then, tossing back his head rather proudly, as he caught Tom winking to Bill, he added, "You value that flag at your masthead for what it reminds you of-not its mere money value. I might call it a dirty old rag, but you price it highly. I dare say you see what I mean now. I'm not good at explaining myself."

They broke into a cheer, and Tom's voice was the loudest of the lot. "Oh, you're not a bad sort," he tried, "and you must take our chaff in good part. You'll see enough of Westervoe before you're done with us, I'll be bound; and as for adventures-why, man, you're providing us with them! You are the inventor of adventure. Take out a patent, and you'll make a fortune out of us, for we love that sort of thing better than a miser loves his money."

"I'm burning tae hear Gloy's story," said Lowrie, as soon as Tom gave any one a chance to speak. So Gloy was shoved to the front, and bidden to "speak up, and speak quick," which he did right willingly.

"It was Mr. Adiesen in his dingy," he said. "He was ahint the skerry when we were in the geo, and heard a'."

"I might have guessed as much if I had not been an ass," Yaspard exclaimed. "I might have known that Pirate would only obey one of us from Moolapund."

"Was the Laird awfu' angry?" Gibbie asked.

"Yes, he was; but when I tell'd him as weel as I could hoo it a' cam aboot, and hoo lonesome Mr. Yaspard was, and hoo he had heard a' about wis o' Lunda and wir ploys and vaidges, and hoo he wanted tae hae the like too;-weel, the Laird o' Boden mused like upo' what I said; and then he took oot his pocketbook and wrate a peerie letter wi' his pencil. And then he bade me come inta the dingy, and I was tae row ower tae Lunda wi' him. Sae I did as I was bid-after asking his leave tae pit yon message for you upo' the rod. He asked me a heap aboot wis a'-I mean aboot the Manse folk, and Dr. Holtum's bairns, and maist aboot our young Laird and Miss Isobel and the lady. And when we cam' tae Lunda he bade me land and carry the note he had written tae Dr. Holtum, and after that I was tae do as I liked aboot mysel'. Then he rowed awa' again. And so noo my tale is ended;" and, having so delivered himself of the longest speech he ever made in his life, Gloy sprawled on the turf, and lay kicking his heels in the sunshine, feeling himself to be the hero of the hour.

Yaspard drew a long breath. He could scarcely believe it true that his uncle had allowed himself to be so near Lunda, and to be so interested in its young people. "What next, I wonder?" he muttered, and looked at Fred, who answered the inquiry in the Viking's gaze by saying-

"I am not at liberty to tell what Mr. Adiesen wrote to Dr. Holtum; but it wasn't like what he wrote to me, and it wasn't bad at all. So let your mind be at rest on that point. You are as free as ever to carry on your Viking course."

"Father said," Tom interrupted, "that we are now at liberty to bring you as a prisoner to Lunda, if we can catch you as easily as you caught Gloy, so you will have to look out."

"I'll be delighted, quite delighted!" was the answer, which sent the enemy into fits of laughter.

Then Harry asked, trying to look very grave, and extending the tin pail towards Yaspard-

"You accept this ransom, and the captive is free?"

"Place the precious ore in our bark," said the Viking chief, handing the pail to Gibbie.

"And take care," said Harry, "that you don't scrape your bark on an oar as you do it."

"The perpetrator of such atrocious puns ought to be severely punished," retorted Yaspard.

"He is always sorry for them afterwards," said Bill.

"I wish I were not free," muttered Gloy. "I wanted to go to Noostigard," and he exchanged regretful looks with his cousins; but Fred lifted the cloud from their spirits.

"I am going to ask you," he said, addressing Yaspard, "to take me with you to Boden; and perhaps you will allow Gloy to come as my henchman?"

"You! what? Why, didn't Uncle Brüs-you're never going to beard the lion in his den."

"That is just what I intend," Fred answered, smiling.

"But-oh, you know I'd like it-but you will be insulted. It will be horrid. There will be a row, sure as anything. I can't bear to think of what he may say; and, being an old man, you won't like to answer back, and-you have no idea what bitter words Uncle Brüs says when he is angry."

Yaspard's eyes filled with tears, and he hung his head for shame, as he pictured to himself the reception which that gracious, gallant young knight was likely to receive in Boden.

"Don't fear!" said Harry Mitchell, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Our captain has a way of his own of turning thunder-clouds into sunshine."

"He has a temper, and he likes to be monarch of all he surveys," added Tom; "but he is the finest fellow out; and he will tackle old Adiesen-beg pardon, the Laird of Boden-in just the properest way. You needn't be afraid to give Fred a passage in your boat."

"And Gloy, please, sir," added the Harrisons.

"I am at Mr. Garson's service," said Yaspard. Then a brilliant idea came into his head, dispelling in a moment all his doubts and fears. "I'll tell you what," he cried, "you shall meet my little sister first, and she shall take you to Uncle Brüs. He will do anything for her. She is always there when my boat is coming in, and we'll hand you over to Signy. That's the ticket!"

"Sisters are towers of strength, arks of refuge in a storm," said Fred.

"Well, that's settled," remarked Tom, "so the best you can do is to be off as quickly as possible and get it over. We will go and lay our lines at the Ootskerries, and have some sport till you return. When will that be?"

"Don't wait for us," said Fred. "I may be detained, and your mothers might be anxious. When you've hauled your lines just go home, and I'll trust to being safely despatched to Lunda from Boden."

The Mitchells and Tom got into the Laulie, and were soon sailing to their favourite fishing-ground, while the others embarked in the Osprey and made tacks for Boden voe.