last night, I should have been
convinced it was some prank of his. Well for him that we can prove an
_alibi_ for him! Dear-a-me, Doctor, what a business this will be! I
am sure being Laird of Lunda isn't all sugar and spice."

"It has happened most unfortunately at this time, just when those young
people were bringing the old man round in such a nice way. Well, well,
Fred! we must believe there is some good purpose in even such a 'kettle
of fish' as this."

After various consultations among the wise-heads, it was agreed that
Dr. Holtum and Fred, with the captain and mate of the _Norna_, should
go over to Boden next day and interview Mr. Adiesen. I need not
describe what they meant to say, or how they hoped to mollify the
irascible old man, for their intention was never carried out. In
crossing the sound they spied Yaspard gesticulating wildly from the
crest of Yelholme.

"Some of your men on the holme, captain?" the Doctor said, as soon as
they caught sight of the figure.

"I only lost one, and that _may_ be him," was the answer; "but he fell
from the rigging, and must have been awfully mashed. Indeed, I never
dreamt he could be alive; and I can hardly believe he would be able to
dance about in _that_ fashion."

Yaspard was moving restlessly about, afraid that if he stood still he
might not be noticed. As the boat approached nearer Fred remarked,
"That is a mere lad, but there is some one else lying on the skerry."

Dr. Holtum had very keen vision, and very soon he said in agitated
tones, "Fred, lad, it is very like the boy Yaspard; and I don't see any
boat about."

"It certainly _is_ Yaspard, with no jacket on, and a man beside him.
Whatever can have happened?"

The boat went straight for Yelholme, and as she reached it the Doctor
called out, "My dear boy, what has happened to you?"

Yaspard could not speak, but his haggard, weary appearance, as well as
the helpless form beside him, told a tale of sufficient misery.

"That's my bo's'n," said the captain, as soon as he saw the man's face.
Then the Doctor and Fred scrambled on shore, and while the former--with
the instinct of his profession--made for the wounded man first, Fred
turned to Yaspard (foreboding the truth) and asked, "Your little
sister?"

"I have lost her. She has gone with the boat," came in bursting sobs
from the poor boy, who was by that time so completely exhausted and
unmanned that Fred could only take him in his arms and try to