CHAPTER III.
"WIDE TOLD OF IS THIS."
"What had young Garson said to make Uncle Brues so angry?" asked Yaspard.
"He did not say much that was unpleasant--even from our point of view.It is the letter of a gentleman anyway; and I know very well that hismother's son could not say or do or think anything that was not like agentleman. I knew her, poor dear, when we were both young. See, hereis the letter. You may read it. It was flung to me. Your uncle didnot care who saw it, or who knows about his 'feud'--oh, I'm sick of theword."
Yaspard smoothed out the letter, which his uncle had crushed up in hisrage, and read--
"DEAR MR. ADIESEN,--I very much regret being obliged to remind you oncemore that Havnholme is part of the Lunda property, and that it was mydear father's wish that the sea-birds on the island should not bemolested.
"I shall always be very pleased to give you, or any other naturalist,every facility for studying the birds in their haunts, but I cannot(knowing as I do so well the mind of my late father in this matter)permit innocent creatures to be disturbed and distressed as they havebeen of late. You know the circumstances to which I allude.
"I do wish (as my father so long wished) that you would meet me andhave a friendly talk, when I have no doubt we could smooth thismatter--I mean your grievance regarding Havnholme. It seems sounneighbourly, not to say unchristian, to keep up a quarrel fromgeneration to generation.
"Pardon me if it seems presumptuous of a young fellow like me to writethus to you; but I feel as it I were only the medium through which mygood noble father were making his wishes known. If you will allow me,I will call upon you at some early time.--Yours sincerely, FRED GARSON."
"It's a very decent letter," said Yaspard, "and everybody who knows theyoung Laird says he is a brick; but I know how Uncle Brues would flareup over this. One has only to utter 'holme' or 'Lunda' in uncle'shearing if one wants to bring the whole feud about one's ears."
Here Signy put in her soft little voice. "But it really was a shameabout the birds, Yaspard. You said so, you know; and oh, I have dreamtabout them ever so often, poor things!"
"That's true. Still, uncle persists that the holme is his property;and the Lairds of Lunda have always got the name of land-grabbers."
Miss Osla looked up at the boy with a kind of terror in her eyes. "OYaspard," she cried, "don't you begin that way too. Don't you believeall that's told you. Don't you take up that miserable, wicked--yes,wicked--quarrel."
"Easy, easy, Aunt Osla! I haven't dug up the hatchet yet. But can youtell me what was the true origin of that affair?"
"I don't believe anybody ever knew what it began about, or why. TheGarsons and Adiesens were born quarrelling with one another, I think."
"But surely you know about the particular part of the family feud whichhad to do with Havnholme?"
"Even _that_ began before I was born, and it was about some land thatwas exchanged. Your great-grandfather wanted all this island tohimself, and he offered the Laird of Lunda some small outlying islandsinstead of the piece of Boden which belonged to _him_. Mr. Garsonagreed, so they 'turned turf'[1] and settled the bargain; and a bodywould have thought that was enough. But no! By-and-by they gotdebating that the bargain had not been a fair one, then that Havnholmewas not included with the other skerries, and so it went as long asthey lived. After that their sons took it up, and disputed, andfought, and never got nearer the truth, for there were no papers to befound to prove who was right; and the tenants who had witnessed the'turning of turf' would only speak as pleased their master. Theywrangled all their lives about it. One would put his sheep on theholme, and the other would promptly go and shove the poor beasts intothe sea. One would build a skeoe,[2] and the other would pull it down.These were lawless days, and men might do as they pleased."
"Just like Vikinger," said Yaspard, who quite enjoyed the story."Well?"
"They never would speak to each other, even if they met at the churchdoor, or at a neighbour's funeral. It was very sinful; and they wouldnot let their children become acquainted. My father made me dropacquaintance with my school friend when she married Mr. Garson, for noreason but because she married the son of his enemy. It has been thesame since your uncle came to be Laird. If your father had lived itwould have been different, for _he_ bore ill-feeling to no one; but hewas so much away with his ship, he never got a chance to put thingsright; which I _know_ he could have done, for the Laird of Lunda--whodied two years ago--was one of the best of men. A land-grabber! Myfriend's husband. He was as good a man as Shetland ere saw. He triedagain and again to be friends with Brues, but it was no use, and it willbe of no use his boy trying. I know."
"_Something_ shall be of use," muttered Yaspard; then aloud he asked,"Will uncle answer this letter?"
"My dear, he's done it. There is his answer on the table. He read itto me, and I felt as if I were listening to a clap of thunder."
"What did he say?"
"He said that Havnholme was his, and that he meant to do with his ownas he pleased. And he said, 'If you set foot in Boden you will receivethe thrashing which such a coxcomb deserves.' He told me to send theHarrison boys across the sound in your little boat early to-morrow, andthey were to leave the letter at the post-office. They were not to goto the Ha' for their lives. Brues never told me to do a harder thingthan to send such a letter to the son of my friend--to the poor lad whois trying to live like his true-hearted father, and to be at peace withall men! It is a cruel thing." And here Miss Osla began to weep again.
Yaspard went to the table and picked up the letter, read the address,and put it in his pocket. "Leave this affair to me, auntie," he said;"I'll see that Fred Garson gets the letter, and gets it right properly."
Poor Miss Adiesen was too much troubled to notice anything peculiar inYaspard's words or expression, but Signy did, and as he left the roomshe followed and asked in a whisper--
"Is it going to fit into your idea, brodhor?"
"Fits like the skin to a sealkie," said he.
Yaspard went up the stairs four steps at every stride until he reachedthe attics. One of these was used for lumber, and into it he went.There was a marvellous collection of things in that room, but Yaspardknew what he had come for, and where to find it. He pulled some brokenchairs from off an old chest which had no lid, and was piled full ofcurious swords, cutlasses, horse-pistols, battle-axes, some foils andmasks, and a battered old shield. Not one of all these implements hadbeen in use for a century--some were of far more ancient date. Theyhad neither edge, nor point, nor power of any sort beyond what mightlie in their weight if it were brought into play. Yaspard gathered upas many of these weapons as he could carry, and bore them off to hisown room, where he proceeded to scrub the rust from them with somesandpaper and a pair of woollen socks. He whistled at his task, andwas infinitely pleased with his own thoughts, which ran something likethis:--
"Oh yes! I'll make it work. I'll turn this old feud into a rare oldlark, I will. How nicely it all fits in for to-morrow--the Harrisonboys to go with the letter in my boat, and the Manse boys spending thenight on Havnholme! What times those boys have, to be sure. They goeverywhere, and stay just as long as they please. I could not counthow many times this summer they have camped out for the night onHavnholme, and the Gruen holme, and the Ootskerries. Guess they'll besurprised at the waking up they'll get tomorrow!"
When he had cleaned up the armour to his satisfaction, he sat down tohis desk and wrote a letter, which pleased him so much that he read ittwice aloud, and ended by saying--
"Prime! I didn't know that I could express myself so well on paper.It's as good as Garson's own. I wonder what he will say!"
Then Yaspard went down to supper, and while demolishing his porridge hesaid, "Will you make me up a bit of ferdimet,[3] auntie? I am goingoff early to-morrow to fish. (It's true," he added to himself, "forI'll take a rod and fish a fish to make it true.")
"I suppose the Harrisons go with
you?" said Aunt Osla. "Don't forgetabout your uncle's message to Lunda."
"No, I won't forget."
"You could run across to the post-office before going to fish, and getit over," she added.
Yaspard often went on such expeditions, therefore there was nothingunusual in his proceedings on the present occasion, but Signy detecteda new fire in his eyes, and a twitching of the mouth that suggestedideas! Moreover, she had been on the stair when he came out of thelumber-room with his arms full of weapons, and Signy's soul wastroubled about its hero.
[1] The old Shetland way of taking possession of land.
[2] "Skeoe," a shed for drying fish in.
[3] "Ferdimet," food for a journey.
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