y proof."

"Pass your word to me, cousin."

"As the Lord God Almighty lives, I will put my life between Vala and
Nicol Sinclair!"

"But how?"

"I will take her to sea if necessary, for my boat can go where few
will dare to follow."

Then he turned to Barbara and said: "Nicol Sinclair has indeed come
back. He says he has come for Vala."

[Illustration: AT THE KIRK.]

"Then the devil has led him here," answered Barbara, flashing into
anger. "As for Vala, let her stay with me. She has a good guard at my
house. There is Groat and his four sons on one side, and Jeppe Madson
and his big brother Har on the other side; and there is David Borson,
who is worth a whole ship's crew, to back them in anything for Vala's
safety. Stay with me to-day, Nanna, and we will talk this matter out."

But Nanna shook her head in reply. As she understood it, duty was
no peradventure; it was an absolute thing from which there was no
turning away. And her duty was to be at home when her husband was
there. But she put Vala's hand into David's hand, and then looked at
the young man with eyes full of anxiety. He answered the look with
one strong word:

"_Yes!_"

And she knew he would redeem it with his life, if that should be
necessary.

Then she turned homeward, and walked with a direct and rapid energy.
She put away thought; she formed no plan, she said no prayer. Her
petition had been made in the kirk; she thought there would be a
want of faith in repeating a request already promised. She felt even
the modesty of a suppliant, and would not continually press into the
presence of the Highest; for to the reverent there is ever the veil
before the Shechinah.

And this conscious putting aside of all emotion strengthened her.
When she saw her home she had no need to slacken her speed or to
encourage herself. She walked directly to the door and opened it.
There was no one there; the place was empty. The food on the table
was untouched. Nothing but a soiled and crumpled handkerchief
remained of the dreadful visitor. She lifted it with the tongs and
cast it into the fire. Then she cleared away every trace of the
rejected meal.

Afterward she made some inquiries in the adjoining huts. One woman
only had seen his departure. "I could not go to kirk this morning,"
she said with an air of apology, "for my bairn is very sick; and
I saw Nicol Sinclair go away. It was near the noon hour. Drunk he
was, and worse drunk than most men can be. His f