ery first, and I had
afterwards many reasons for rejoicing in the friendship thus
casually made.

"I have something here for you, sir," I said to the schoolmaster,
holding up the dead falcon that I carried.

"Oh! come along with us, too, Halcro. Send your dog home, and come
and take some supper with me."

I assented, and continued walking by his side as he talked with the
captain.

We had now entered the street of Stromness. It was a narrow passage
which one might span with arms outstretched, and paved without a
causeway--for it was built when there were no vehicles in
Orkney--and crooked as the inside of a whelk shell, suggesting
starlight smuggling and romantic meetings. In the windows and
obscure corners of the passages dim lamps peeped forth in the
darkness, and the flickering firelight in the houses fell upon the
stones through the open doorways, whereat sailors stood smoking
their pipes and gossiping women talked.

We turned up a little lane that led to the schoolhouse, and my dog
trotted home without me, to let my mother know I was near.

Chapter X. The Dominie Explains.

We found Grace Drever preparing the peat fire for frying the fish.
The good old woman did not hear us enter, but Andrew was a punctual
man, and it was with no show of surprise that his mother at length
recognized his presence.

Grace Drever was an active woman, somewhat bent with age, but with
no signs of decaying faculties, save in the case of her extreme
deafness. Her hair was still black, and her eyesight was quick. Her
memory for local events was as good as an almanac to the people of
Stromness, and there was something strangely uncanny about her
nature that was itself almost an excuse to those who hinted that
she had dealings with the underworld. She was one of the older
style of inhabitants, who retained the primitive habits and customs
of the island, whose spoken language had in it a mixture of the
Norse, which distinguished it from the simpler Scotch dialect
familiarly used by us of the younger generation, and yet more from
the purer English into which we were drilled at school.

Andrew Drever generally spoke good English in the presence of
strangers, though he lapsed into the broad native speech in
friendly talk with the fisher folk.

"I hae brought Captain Gordon wi' me to hae a taste o' the trout,"
he said to his mother as we entered the room, where she bent over
the fire.

"Gordon! Gordon! I dinna ken ony Gordo