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Scholey, “ at the head of the voe — but, by my faith, if it be the place, there are folk 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 fetch me if a witch cheats me out of supper tonight, 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 XXX
What ho, my jovial mates! come on! we’ll frolic it
Like fairies frisking in the merry moonshine,
Seen by the curtal friar, who. from some christening
Or some blithe bridal, hies belated cell-ward —
He starts, and changes his bold bottle swagger
To churchman’s pace professional, and, ransacking
His treacherous memory for some holy hymn,
Finds but the roundel of the midnight catch.
Old Play.
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 Maister Claud Halcro, or his wraith at least; for never was bow drawn across thairm which brought out the gude auld spring of 4 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 messmate, and Halcro himself presently made his appearance on the beach.
The Udaller now signed to his retinue to come up, while 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, Fowd,” said Claud Halcro, “ how you came to be within hearing of me? ay, by my word, and with your bonny daughters, too? — Jarto Minna 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 messmates have you got in the hut with you? I think I hear some one speaking.”
“None,” replied Claud Halcro, “ but that 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 sillocks 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!” 1 was Laurence’s joyful answer; and he hastened for the basket.
“By the bicker of Saint Magnus,” 2 said Halcro, “ and the burliest bishop that ever quaffed it for luck’s sake, there is no finding your locker empty, Magnus! I believe sincerely that ere a friend wanted, you could, like old Luggie the warlock, fish up boiled and roasted out of the pool of Kibster.” 3
“You are wrong there, Jarto Claud,” said Magnus Troil, “ for far from helping me to a supper, the foul fiend, I believe, has.carried off great part of mine this blessed evening; but you are welcome to share and share of what is left.” This was said while the party entered the hut.
Here, in a cabin which smelled strongly of dried fish, and whose sides and roof were jet-black with smoke, they found the unhappy Triptolemus Yellowley seated beside a fire made of dried seaweed, mingled with some peats and wreck-wood; his sole companion a barefooted, yellow-haired Zetland boy, who acted occasionally as a kind of page to Claud Halcro, bearing his fiddle on his shoulder, saddling his pony, 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
1 Jokul, yes, sir; a Norse expression, still in common use.
2 The Bicker of Saint Magnus, a vessel of enormous dimensions, was preserved at Kirkwall, and presented to each bishop of the Orkneys. If the new incumbent was able to quaff it out at one draught, which was a task for Hercules or Rorie Mhor of Dunvegan, the omen bcded a crop of unusual fertility.
3 Luggie, a famous conjurer, was wont, when storms prevented him from going to his usual employment of fishing, to angle over a steep rock, at the place called, from his name, Luggie’s Knoll. At other times he drew up dressed food while they were out at sea, of which his comrades partook boldly from natural courage, without caring who stood cook. The poor man was finally condemned and burnt at Scalloway.
drawn close to the fire (a neighbourhood which the dampness of the night air rendered far from disagreeable), the pannier was opened, and a tolerable supply of barley-bread and hung beef, besides a flask of brandy (no doubt smaller than that which the relentless hand of Pacolet had emptied into the ocean), gave assurances of a tolerable supper. Then, indeed, the worthy Factor grinned, chuckled, rubbed his hands, and inquired after all friends at Burgh-Westra.
Wrhen they had all partaken of this needful refreshment, the Udaller repeated his inquiries of Halcro, and more particularly of the Factor, how they came to be nestled in such a remote corner at such an hour of night.
“Maister Magnus Troil,” said Triptolemus, when a second cup had given him spirits to tell his tale of woe, “ I would not have you think that it is a little thing that disturbs me. I came of that grain that takes a sair wind to shake it. I have seen many a Martinmas and many a Whitsunday in my day, whilk are the times peculiarly grievous to those of my craft, and I could aye bide the bang; but I think I am like to be dung ower a’thegither in this damned country of yours — Gude forgie me for swearing — but evil communication corrupteth good manners.”
“Now, Heaven guide us,” said the Udaller, “ what is the matter with the man? Why, man, if you will put your plough into new land, you must look to have it hank on a stone now and then — You must set us an example of patience, seeing you come here for our improvement.”
“And the deil was in my feet when I did so,” said the Factor; “I had better have set myself to improve the cairn on Clochnaben.”