Here Triptolemus paused in his extraordinary narration, while the rest of the party looked upon each other in surprise, and the Udaller muttered to Claud Halcro—“By all tokens, this must have been either the devil or Nicholas Strumpfer; and if it were him, he is more of a goblin than e’er I gave him credit for, and shall be apt to rate him as such in future.” Then, addressing the Factor, he enquired—“Saw ye nought how this dwarf of yours parted company?”
“As I shall answer it, no,” replied Triptolemus, with a cautious look around him, as if daunted by the recollection; “neither I, nor Baby, who had her wits more about her, not having seen this unseemly vision, could perceive any way by whilk he made evasion. Only Tronda said she saw him flee forth of the window of the west roundel of the auld house, upon a dragon, as she averred. But, as the dragon is held a fabulous animal, I suld pronounce her averment to rest upon deceptio visus.”
“But, may we not ask farther,” said Brenda, stimulated by curiosity to know as much of her cousin Norna’s family as was possible, “how all this operated upon Master Yellowley, so as to occasion his being in this place at so unseasonable an hour?”
“Seasonable it must be, Mistress Brenda, since it brought us into your sweet company,” answered Claud Halcro, whose mercurial brain far outstripped the slow conceptions of the agriculturist, and who became impatient of being so long silent. “To say the truth, it was I, Mistress Brenda, who recommended to our friend the Factor, whose house I chanced to call at just after this mischance, (and where, by the way, owing doubtless to the hurry of their spirits, I was but poorly received,) to make a visit to our other friend at Fitful-head, well judging from certain points of the story, at which my other and more particular friend than either” (looking at Magnus) “may chance to form a guess, that they who break a head are the best to find a plaster. And as our friend the Factor scrupled travelling on horseback, in respect of some tumbles from our ponies”——
“Which are incarnate devils,” said Triptolemus, aloud, muttering under his breath, “like every live thing that I have found in Zetland.”
“Well, Fowd,” continued Halcro, “I undertook to carry him to Fitful-head in my little boat, which Giles and I can manage as if it were an Admiral’s barge full manned; and Master Triptolemus Yellowley will tell you how seaman-like I piloted him to the little haven, within a quarter of a mile of Norna’s dwelling.”
“I wish to Heaven you had brought me as safe back again,” said the Factor.
“Why, to be sure,” replied the minstrel, “I am, as glorious John says,—
“I showed little wit in intrusting myself to your charge,” said Triptolemus; “and you still less when you upset the boat at the throat of the voe, as you call it, when even the poor bairn, that was mair than half drowned, told you that you were carrying too much sail; and then ye wad fasten the rape to the bit stick on the boat-side, that ye might have time to play on the fiddle.”
“What!” said the Udaller, “make fast the sheets to the thwart? a most unseasonable practice, Claud Halcro.”
“And sae came of it,” replied the agriculturist; “for the neist blast (and we are never lang without ane in these parts) whomled us as a gudewife would whomle a bowie, and ne’er a thing wad Maister Halcro save but his fiddle. The puir bairn swam out like a water-spaniel, and I swattered hard for my life, wi’ the help of ane of the oars; and here we are, comfortless creatures, that, till a good wind blew you here, had naething to eat but a mouthful of Norway rusk, that has mair sawdust than rye-meal in it, and tastes liker turpentine than any thing else.”
“I thought we heard you very merry,” said Brenda, “as we came along the beach.”
“Ye heard a fiddle, Mistress Brenda,” said the Factor; “and maybe ye may think there can be nae dearth, miss, where that is skirling. But then it was Maister Claud Halcro’s fiddle, whilk, I am apt to think, wad skirl at his father’s deathbed, or at his ain, sae lang as his fingers could pinch the thairm. And it was nae sma’ aggravation to my misfortune to have him bumming a’ sorts of springs,—Norse and Scots, Highland and Lawland, English and Italian, in my lug, as if nothing had happened that was amiss, and we all in such stress and perplexity.”
“Why, I told you sorrow would never right the boat, Factor,” said the thoughtless minstrel, “and I did my best to make you merry; if I failed, it was neither my fault nor my fiddle’s. I have drawn the bow across it before glorious John Dryden himself.”
“I will hear no stories about glorious John Dryden,” answered the Udaller, who dreaded Halcro’s narratives as much as Triptolemus did his music,—“I will hear nought of him, but one story to every three bowls of punch,—it is our old paction, you know. But tell me, instead, what said Norna to you about your errand?”
“Ay, there was anither fine upshot,” said Master Yellowley. “She wadna look at us, or listen to us; only she bothered our acquaintance, Master Halcro here, who thought he could have sae much to say wi’ her, with about a score of questions about your family and household estate, Master Magnus Troil; and when she had gotten a’ she wanted out of him, I thought she wad hae dung him ower the craig, like an empty peacod.”
“And for yourself?” said the Udaller.
“She wadna listen to my story, nor hear sae much as a word that I had to say,” answered Triptolemus; “and sae much for them that seek to witches and familiar spirits!”
“You needed not to have had recourse to Norna’s wisdom, Master Factor,” said Minna, not unwilling, perhaps, to stop his railing against the friend who had so lately rendered her service; “the youngest child in Orkney could have told you, that fairy treasures, if they are not wisely employed for the good of others, as well as of those to whom they are imparted, do not dwell long with their possessors.”
“Your humble servant to command, Mistress Minnie,” said Triptolemus; “I thank ye for the hint,—and I am blithe that you have gotten your wits—I beg pardon, I meant your health—into the barn-yard again. For the treasure, I neither used nor abused it,—they that live in the house with my sister Baby wad find it hard to do either!—and as for speaking of it, whilk they say muckle offends them whom we in Scotland call Good Neighbours, and you call Drows, the face of the auld Norse kings on the coins themselves, might have spoken as much about it as ever I did.”