ing, making light of the difficulties of the way, and promising themselves shelter and a comfortable night's rest in the deserted hut which they were now about to approach, and which they expected to find in a state of darkness and solitude. But it was the lot of the Udaller that day to be deceived more than once in his calculations. «And which way lies this cabin of yours, Laurie?" said the Udaller, addressing the intelligent domestic of whom we just spoke. «Yonder it should be," said Laurence Scholey, « at the head of the Voe-but, by my faith, if it be the place, there are folks there before us-God and Saint Ronan send that they be canny company!»> In truth there was a light in the deserted hut, strong enough to glimmer through every chink of the shingles and wreck-wood of which it was constructed, and to give the whole cabin the appearance of a smithy seen by night. The universal superstition of the Zetlanders seized upon Magnus and his escort. " " They are Trows,» said one voice. They are witches,» murmured another. «They are mermaids,» muttered a third; «< only hear their wild singing!» All stopped; and, in effect, some notes of music were audible, which Brenda, with a voice that quivered a little, but yet had a turn of arch ridicule in its tone, pronounced to be the sound of a fiddle. « Fiddle or fiend,» said the Udaller, who, if he believed in such nightly apparitions as had struck terror into his retinue, certainly feared them not-<«< fiddle or fiend, may the devil wash me if a witch cheats me out of supper to-night, for the second time.» So saying, he dismounted, clenched his trusty truncheon in his hand, and advanced towards the hut, followed by Laurence alone; the rest of his retinue continuing stationary on the beach, beside his daughters and the ponies. CHAPTER III. What ho, my jovial mates! come on! we'll frolic it THE stride of the Udaller relaxed nothing of its length or of its firmness as he approached the glimmering cabin, from which he now heard distinctly the sound of the fiddle. But if still long and firm, his steps succeeded each other rather more slowly than usual; for, like a cautious, though a brave general, Magnus was willing to reconnoitre his enemy before assailing him. The trusty Laurence Scholey, who kept close behind his master, now whispered into his ear, «So help me, sir, as I believe that the ghaist, if ghaist it be, that plays so bravely on the fiddle, must be the ghaist of Master Claud Halcro, or his wraith at least; for never was bow drawn across thairm which brought out the gude auld spring of 'Fair and Lucky,' so like his ain.» Magnus was himself much of the same opinion; for he knew the blithe minstrelsy of the spirited little old man, and hailed the hut with a hearty hilloah, which was immediately replied to by the cheery note of his ancient mess-mate, and Halcro himself presently made his appearance on the beach. The Udaller now signed to his retinue to come up, whilst he asked his friend, after a kind greeting and much shaking of hands, << How the devil he came to sit there playing old tunes in so desolate a place, like an owl whooping to the moon?>> « And tell me rather, Fowde,» said Claud Halcro, « how you came to be within hearing of me?—ay, by my word, and with your bonny daughters too?-Jarto Minno and Jarto Brenda, I bid you welcome to these yellow sands -and there shake hands, as glorious John, or some other body, says upon the same occasion. And how came you here like two fair swans, making day out of twilight, and turning all you step upon to silver?» «You shall know all about them presently,» answered Magnus; « but what mess-mates have you got in the hut with you? I think I hear some one speaking.» None," replied Claud Halcro, « but that ફ્ poor creature the Factor, and my imp of a boy, Giles. I—but come in-come in-here you will find us starving in comfort—not so much as a mouthful of sour sillochs to be had for love or money." << That may be in a small part helped,» said the Udaller; «for though the best of our supper is gone over the Fitful crags to the sealchies and the dog-fish, yet we have got something in the kit still.-Here, Laurie, bring up the vifda.» «Jokul, Jokul!»' was Laurence's joyful answer; and he hastened for the basket, while the party entered the hut. Here, in a cabin which smelled strongly of dried fish, and whose sides and roof were jetblack with smoke, they found the unhappy Triptolemus Yellowley, seated beside a fire made of dried sea-weed, mingled with some peats and wreck-wood; his sole companion a bare-footed yellow-haired Zetland boy, who acted occasionally as a kind of page to Claud Halcro, bearing his fiddle on his shoulders, saddling his poney, and rendering him similar duties of kindly observance. The disconsolate agriculturist, for such his visage betokened him, displayed little surprise, and less animation, at the arrival of the Udaller and his companions, until, after the party had drawn close to the fire, a neighbourhood which the damp Jokul,-Yes, sir; a Norse expression still in common use. |