The wind was westward, and the current in
our favour, so that we had a grand sail across the sound to the
Kame of Hoy--Robbie at the tiller, and I sitting near him on the
windward gunwale. How our boat danced along and curtsied on the
green curling waves! How her bows lifted and fell and sent a belt
of foam alongside and away behind us in a bubbling track! O, it was
glorious, that sail across to Hoy! Sitting there in the sunshine,
the fresh breeze blowing in our faces, we had nothing to do but
tend the helm and keep the boat well to the wind, and away we sped.
Our enjoyment of the sail was so full that we spoke but little. We
talked of Tom Kinlay's work on his father's new boat, and made
surmises as to the nature of the trade or traffic it was to be
engaged in; but whether the boat was to be sent to the saith
fishing, or to be used as a tender to the ships, we could not tell.
There was one thing that Robbie wanted to set his mind easy about,
and that was the viking's amulet. In common with all the lads in
the school, he had heard of the wonderful powers attributed to this
little stone; and, like them, he was thoroughly credulous of its
ability to preserve me from personal harm, vet anxious as I was
myself to put it to the proof.
"I'd like fine if we could have a chance of adventure today," he
said, taking the stone in his hand as it hung by a cord from my
neck.
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