--except perhaps that she was less active with her
fingers--had not my mother, who came out to wash some dishes in the
sea, taken notice of my sister's vacant eyes.

"One would fancy, Jessie," said my mother--"one would fancy that
there was no wind out yonder that you send so many sighs to fill
the captain's sails. What like a man is he?"

"Dinna ask such questions, mother," said Jessie. "I saw him only in
the gloaming. His voice was like the sighing of the waves and his
eyes were like the seal's. Ah! he'll not come back again to
Stromness, never again;" and as Jessie gave another sigh the ship
disappeared behind the Ness.

For long afterwards Jessie would speak of Captain Gordon, and I
noticed with what concern she heard each reference to him, made by
either myself or my father. Even the gun which the captain had
given me was some sort of a solace to her, for whenever I was
cleaning the weapon she would take it in her hands and admire the
elegant workmanship displayed in the ornamented stock and the
bright steel barrel, and then lay it down with a gentle sigh, and I
knew she was thinking of Mr. Gordon.

Chapter XV. In Which The Viking's Amulet Is Proved.

I availed myself of an early opportunity of trying my new gun. One
afternoon I found Robbie Rosson down at the shore side. He was
standing near to my boat, which was moored to the jetty, and
looking as though he would give anything for a sail in her.

"Are ye going for a sail today, Hal?" he asked meekly.

"Ay, I'll go, if you'll come with me, Robbie," I agreed. "If ye
like we'll take a run o'er to Hoy Head. I'll bring my gun, and
we'll have a shot at the geese."

Robbie's face brightened up at the prospect, and I went indoors to
fetch the gun and a supply of ammunition; also my climbing ropes,
in case we needed them.

We were soon in the boat. Robbie took the oars and rowed out until
we could hoist the little sail, and then we rounded the Ness and
got out into Hoy Sound. The wind was westward, and the current in
our favour, so that we had a grand sail across the sound to the
Kame of Hoy--Robbie at the tiller, and I sitting near him on the
windward gunwale. How our boat danced along and curtsied on the
green curling waves! How her bows lifted and fell and sent a belt
of foam alongside and away behind us in a bubbling track! O, it was
glorious, that sail across to Hoy! Sitting there in the sunshine,
the fresh breeze blowing in our faces, we had nothin