ith all the energy he could command.
"Hanging is too good for wreckers; they should be roasted at the false
fires they light for poor seafaring men's destruction."

Yaspard stared his astonishment. "I never heard the like!" he
ejaculated. "Wreckers! Why, there isn't one left in Shetland. Not
one, I am sure. What _do_ you mean?"

"I mean that the stout schooner I sailed in would be in a safe harbour
now instead of drifting as spindle-wood among those skerries if there
were no wreckers on your islands, my lad!"

"There must be some mistake. Do tell me what happened," was all
Yaspard could say. And then he heard the story.

The schooner _Norna_ was caught in a tempest crossing the North Sea,
and sustained considerable damage--so much that it was deemed advisable
to seek harbour for repairs. She was making for Bressa Sound when a
slight fog came down which compelled the skipper to defer attempting to
thread a way among those rock-bound isles till the atmosphere was
clearer. While beating about, not quite sure of their exact locality,
a bright light was observed which was believed to be lit for their
guidance. There was no other reason why a great blaze should appear in
the middle of the night on a lonely height, which loomed fitfully
through the mist and gloom, and was evidently the crest of some hill.
No doubt a safe harbour lay in that neighbourhood, and the _Norna_ was
confidently put on another course--one which it was believed led her
within the safe arms of a sheltering fiord. On the one hand could be
dimly discerned a low irregular coast, on the other rose the gaunt
shadowy outline of majestic crags.

It was no friendly voe the hapless schooner had come into, but the
dangerous sound, studded with stacks and holmes, which flow between
Lunda and Boden.

Guided by that treacherous beacon, the _Norna_ sailed slowly on and
crashed on a sunken rock not far from the cliffs of Trullyabister.

The man who told the story had gone aloft to take in sail, when it was
discovered that the vessel was among breakers; and when she struck he
was dashed from the rigging. He could give no account of what further
happened, beyond remembering that he was clinging at one time to a
spar, and saw his ship backing (as he described it) into deep ocean.

"I think it must have happened not far from here," he said; and
Yaspard, looking towards Boden, over which the soft tints of twilight
were beginning to blend with mists from