to sleep in her baby days--

"My cradle and my grave is the deep deep sea."

Yet Yaspard was not the least afraid, and only thought, even when those
doleful words seemed to ring like a knell through the roar of the
waves, "Tom will be saved if I reach the shore, and if I don't, Pirate
is sure to land and make his way to a house at once. That will tell as
well as any words of mine."

He was very nearly exhausted when at last he found himself in shallow
water; so, putting on a desperate spurt, he managed to reach a sandy
creek where a landing could be easily made. But as he staggered up
from the water, thanking God in his heart, a sudden weakness
overpowered him, and he fell senseless on the sand. Pirate had reached
land before his master, and was shaking himself vigorously when Yaspard
dropped. The wonderful dog-intellect at once divined that something
must be very far wrong, and he sniffed around the motionless form, with
deep anxiety expressed in every gesture and in the low whining noise he
made.

At last, when he found that Yaspard did not stir, Pirate determined
upon seeking help without further delay. With a piteous howl he turned
from the spot and bounded up the hill, making for the nearest
habitation or human being with the unerring instinct of his race.

[1] Keen.

CHAPTER XXXII.

"HAIL FROM THE MAIN THEN COMEST THOU HOME."

Garth Halsen and his father were strolling over the hill that day. The
old Yarl of Broch was always restless during a storm, and never cared
to sit in the house when the elements were at war, "for there is sorrow
on the sea," he would say at such times; "and I cannot rest when I
think some poor souls are fighting for life on the water." As the
father and son walked on they saw Pirate, and he saw them, and made at
once for them, whining in the most distressful manner.

"What dog is that? Why, I've----"

"It's Yaspard's dog," Garth exclaimed; "and he wants us to go with him.
Something has happened, I fear."

They hurried in the direction which Pirate so intelligently indicated,
and he soon led them to where our Viking-boy lay.

By that time Yaspard had revived a little, and was sitting up looking
around in a dazed state, but the cheery voice of old Halsen soon
restored his wits, and he could give an account of what had happened.

"No time to lose, lads," said the Yarl, with all the fire of strong
manhood eager to help the forlorn and weak. "We'll carry you