His brain seemed on fire, however, and would not be lulled to sleep by
the influence of night and the anthem of ocean. The poor lad suffered
such torment of soul as we can scarcely imagine; to the young,
compulsory inaction during mental pain is almost unendurable, and
sometimes Yaspard felt that to fling himself into the water, to
struggle there and drown, would be better than sitting on the holme
idle, helpless, picturing Signy's fate.

He gave up at last gazing on the sea, which seemed to mock his hopes
and fears with its monotonous roll and roar, and fixed his eyes on the
dim outline of the Heogue, which his sister had named "Boden's purple
crown;" and he wondered if Signy could see the dear old hill from her
place amid the waves. He _would not_ think that the _Osprey_ had
capsized or broken on some crag, but continued to picture the child in
the boat as he had last seen her.

While Yaspard sat there straining his eyes upon the hill-cap, he
fancied he saw a flicker of red light on its side. For a moment he
believed his sight had deceived him, and he rubbed his lashes and
looked again. There it was again, a more distinct flicker than at
first; then it grew brighter and steadier, and presently flashed up
into a merry blaze which sent its ruddy life far over the sea.

Yaspard stood up wondering and trembling, till in a moment the truth
flashed into his mind, and he sat down again dumfoundered, and saying
within himself, "_That_ explains the whole affair! Yes. It's
fule-Tammy without question. A pretty fix he has made for himself!"

Then Yaspard thought of waking the sailor to see the false light; but
on second thoughts he muttered, "What's the use? If I _have_ to speak,
and am ever in another place than this, I'll do it. But there isn't
any use in telling upon that born fool just now. Well! I'm glad he is
a fool. I could not bear this fellow to accuse us of having wreckers
in Shetland--though there _have been_ plenty. But so there were in
other places when folk were like savages."

He watched fule-Tammy's fire burn up and blaze steadily, then wane and
die out; and when every spark was extinguished there came over the
eastern sky a faint blush heralding the dawn of day.

The brief dream of night was over, and Yaspard, sighing wearily,
murmured, "If some boat could but find Signy it would not matter so
much about us--about me, I mean. I deserve my fate. I ought not to
have left her in the boat alone