er books and nursing his gloomy
thoughts, he pointed to a chair, and taking one himself, said briefly--

"Now give a proper account of yourself."

Tom could be concise and to the point in speech as well as Mr. Neeven,
and having recovered his usual _sang-froid_, he explained his
appearance in Boden in few plain words.

It was the first Gaun Neeven had heard of his young relative turning
Viking, and he was surprised to find a strange something within himself
leap and stir warmly at the tale of Yaspard's adventures, even though
told in Tom's unvarnished matter-of-fact style. Was it not a like
"craze" which had rioted within his own blood when he was a boy, and
had sent him out into the world to fight and jostle men, to win renown,
and prove his manhood by risking life and limb in all kinds of mad
adventure? Nothing had so moved that self-contained, moody man for
years, and even obtuse Tom could see that his story had touched some
hidden spring of feeling. The stern lines had relaxed, and there was a
softer though more intense light in the man's eyes.

Taking advantage of what he would have styled "a melting mood," Tom
begged to be allowed to carry his father's letter to its destination.
"And after that," he said, "on the honour of a gentleman, I will come
back to you, and you can make of me what you please."

"The letter shall go to Mr. Adiesen at a proper hour," replied Mr.
Neeven. "He is asleep at present, and I happen to know he is _not_
uneasy about his nephew. You had better lie down on this sofa and
finish your own nap, while I finish my walk. Later I will tell you
what I require you to do."

He walked out of the room, shutting the door with a key, and leaving
Tom a veritable prisoner.

"He might have trusted me," muttered Tom; "but since he hasn't put me
on my honour, I shall do my best to escape---- Gracious! what's that?"

The lad was very wide-awake, and not the least inclined to go to sleep
again. His exclamation had been caused by a curious sharp barking
noise, mingled with plaintive crying, which roused Tom's pity as well
as astonishment. He ran to the window, fancying the sounds came from
that side, and hoping to see something to explain what they meant. He
was not disappointed. The window of the haunted room was not far from
that of Mr. Neeven's sitting-room, and at that window Tom saw the same
unearthly visage which had startled Yaspard and the Harrisons.

"Whe-e-ew!" whistled Tom, thr