CHAPTER XIII.
READING THE RUNES.
"Words from the long far-away Link the dim past with to-day."
Isobel descended from the headland in the lowest of spirits. To havequarrelled with Belle, even in a just cause, was a disaster such as shehad never contemplated, and for a moment she was half inclined to runafter her friend and seek a reconciliation at any cost. Her pride,however, intervened; she felt that Belle had really been very rude andunreasonable, while her treatment of Micky was quite unpardonable. Shestrolled along, therefore, in the direction of the hut instead, tryingto wink the tears out of her eyes, and to make up her mind that she didnot care. All the Sea Urchins were rushing off to investigate somemysterious black object which they could see bobbing about in the water,and which they hoped might prove to be a porpoise. They called to her tojoin them, but even the prospect of capturing a sea monster had for themoment no charms, so she shook her head and volunteered instead to stayin the hut and get tea ready for their return. She filled the kettlefrom a little spring of fresh water, which always ran pure and clear ina small rivulet down the side of the cliff, threw some more drift-woodand dry sea-weed on the fire which the boys had already lighted, thenset out the tea things, and taking a piece of chalk, began to amuseherself by drawing upon the wall of the hut the curious letters whichshe had copied from the stone. She was so absorbed in her occupationthat she did not notice a tall figure, who stooped to enter the lowdoorway, and paused in some astonishment at the scene before him.
"Hullo!" said a voice. "Am I addressing Miss Robinson Crusoe, or is thisthe outpost of a military occupation? I see a flag flying which iscertainly not the Union Jack, and as a late colonel in his Majesty'sforces, and a Justice of the Peace, I feel bound to protect our shoresfrom a possible invasion."
Isobel turned round hastily. She recognized the newcomer at once as theowner of the maidenhair fern and the beautiful grounds into which shehad so unwittingly trespassed, and noticing his gun, concluded that hemust without doubt be the Colonel Smith of whom Cecil Rokeby had spoken,and whom she had also heard mentioned by Mrs. Jackson as a keensportsman and a magistrate of some consequence in the neighbourhood.
"I'm not Miss Robinson Crusoe," she replied, laughing, "and it's not amilitary occupation either."
"Perhaps I am in a prehistoric dwelling, then, watching a descendant ofthe ancient Britons conducting her primitive cooking operations. Or isit an Indian wigwam? I should be interested to know to what tribe itbelongs," said the colonel, advancing farther into the hut, and lookingwith an amused smile at the sand seats, the shelves, the pots, and allthe other little arrangements which the children had made.
"No, I'm not an ancient Briton," said Isobel, "and it isn't a wigwam.It's 'Wavelet Hall,' and it belongs to us."
"And who is 'us,' if you will condescend to explain so ambiguous aterm?"
"The United Sea Urchins' Recreation Society," said Isobel, rolling outthe name with some dignity.
"No doubt it's my crass ignorance," observed the colonel, "but I'mafraid I have never heard of that distinguished order. Will you kindlyenlighten me as to its object and scope?"
"Why, you see, we're all staying at Silversands," explained Isobel; "sowe made ourselves into a club, that we might have fun together, andcalled it the 'Sea Urchins.' Then we found this desert island thatdoesn't belong to anybody, so we took possession of it, and built thishut out of the wreck of the old schooner, and it's ours now."
"Is it?" said the colonel dryly. "I was under the impression that theisland belonged to me. It is certainly included among my title-deeds,and as lord of the manor I am also supposed to have the rights of theforeshore."
"I don't quite understand what 'lord of the manor' means," said Isobel;"but does the island really and truly belong to you?"
"Really and truly. I keep it for rabbit shooting exclusively."
"Then," said Isobel apprehensively, "I'm very much afraid that we'vebeen trespassing on your land again."
"Not only trespassing, but squatting," returned the colonel, with atwinkle in his eye. "The case is serious. This island has belonged to meand to my ancestors for generations. I arrive here to-day to find itoccupied by a band of individuals who, I must say" (with a glance outthrough the door at the barefooted Sea Urchins yelling in the distanceas they hauled up the dead porpoise), "bear a very strong resemblance toa gang of pirates. I am frankly informed by one of their number thatthey claim possession of my property. I find their flag flying and afortress erected. The question is whether I am at once to declare warand evict these invaders, or to allow them to remain in the position ofvassals on payment of a due tribute."
"Oh, please let us stay!" implored Isobel; "we won't do any harm--wewon't, indeed. We're all going home in a few weeks, and then you canhave the island quite to yourself again."
"Suppose I were to regard you as surety for the good behaviour of therest of the tribe," said the colonel: "would you undertake that no rareor cherished plants should be uprooted or any damage inflicted duringyour tenancy?"
"We wouldn't touch anything," declared Isobel, "we've only taken theblackberries because there are so many of them. I know you're thinkingof the maidenhair. Oh, please, is it growing? I do so hope it wasn'tspoilt."
"Yes, it's growing. I really don't believe it has suffered very much,after all. I took a look at it this morning, and found the young frondspushing up as well as if they had never been disturbed."
"I'm _so_ glad!" said Isobel, with a sigh of relief; "I've often thoughtabout it since. It's very kind of you to say we may stay here; it wouldhave seemed so hard to turn out after we'd had the trouble of buildingthe hut."
"But what about the rent?" inquired the colonel; "will you be answerablefor its proper payment? I may prove as tough a customer as old Shylock,and insist on my pound of flesh."
"We've very little money, I'm afraid," said Isobel timidly; "we spentall the club funds on buying the kettle and the frying-pan--even whatwe'd saved up for a feast at the end of the holidays. I've only gotthreepence left myself, though perhaps some of the others may havemore."
"I must take it in kind, then--the sort of tribute that is exacted fromnative chiefs in Central Africa--though you can't bring me pounds ofrubber or elephants' tusks here."
"We could pick you blackberries, if you like them," suggested Isobel;"or get you cockles and mussels from the shore. Sometimes the boys spearflukes. They're rather small and muddy, but they're quite nice to eatwith bread and butter if you fry them yourself."
"My consumption of blackberries is limited," replied the colonel, "andthere seems slight demand for shell-fish in my kitchen. The flukes mighthave done; but if they are only edible when you fry them yourself, I'mafraid it's no use, for I don't believe my housekeeper would allow me totry. No! I must think out the question of tribute, and let you know. Iwon't ask a rack rent, I promise you, and I suppose I could distrain onthese tea things and the kettle if it were not paid up. The latterappears to be boiling over at this instant."
"So it is!" cried Isobel, lifting it off in a hurry. "I wonder," shecontinued shyly, "if you would care to have a cup of tea. I could makeit in a moment, if you wouldn't mind drinking it out of a tin mug."
"Miss Robinson Crusoe is very hospitable. I haven't had a picnic foryears. The tin mug will recall my early soldiering days. I havebivouacked in places which were not nearly so comfortable as this."
He took a seat in a sand armchair, and looked on with amusement whileIsobel made her preparations. Something in the set of her slim littlefigure and the fall of her long straight fair hair attracted him, and hecaught himself wondering of whom her gray eyes reminded him. He likedthe quiet way she went about her business, and her frank, unaffectedmanners--so different from Belle's self-conscious assurance.
"Why can't the other child wear a plain holland frock?" he thought. "Itwould look much more suitable for the sands than those absurd trimmed-upcostumes. What a pity she hasn't the sense of this one! Well, it's nouse; it evide
ntly isn't in her, and I doubt if any amount of training ata good school will make much difference."
Isobel in the meantime having brewed the tea handed it to him upon thescarlet tray.
"I'm sorry we haven't a cream jug," she apologized. "We always bring ourmilk in medicine bottles. Do you mind sugar out of the packet? I wish Ihad some cake, but Mrs. Jackson didn't put any in my basket to-day, andI don't like taking the others' without asking them. I hope it's nice,"she added anxiously. "I'm so afraid the water's a little smoked."
"Delicious," said the colonel, who would have consumed far moreunpalatable viands sooner than hurt her feelings, and who tried tooverlook the fact that the tin mug gave the tea a curious flavour, andthe bread and butter was of a thickness usually meted out to schoolboys."But aren't you going to have any yourself?"
"Not now, thank you. I'd rather wait for the others. I promised to haveeverything ready for them when they came back."
"I see. You're 'Polly, put the kettle on,' to-day, and 'Sukey, take itoff again,' also, as they appear to have 'all run away.' No more,thanks. One cup is as much as is good for me. Why, in the name of allthat's mysterious, who has been writing these?"
The colonel jumped up and strode to the other end of the hut, havingsuddenly caught sight of the quaint letters which Isobel had drawn uponthe wall.
"I have," replied Isobel simply.
"Then, my dear Miss Robinson Crusoe, may I ask how you came to beacquainted with runic characters?"
"I don't know what they are," said Isobel. "It's very queer writing,isn't it? I was only copying it for fun."
"Where did you copy it from?"
"It's on a stone at the top of the headland."
"This headland?"
"Yes, just above here, but a little farther on."
"Do you mean to tell me there is a stone bearing letters like that onthese cliffs?"
"Yes; it's a long kind of stone, something like a cross without arms."
"I thought I had walked over every inch of this island, yet I have nevernoticed it."
"It was quite covered with brambles," said Isobel. "I found it when wewere picking blackberries. I had to pull them all away before I couldsee it."
"If you can leave your domestic cares, I should very much like you toshow it to me," said the colonel. "I happen to be particularlyinterested in such stones."
"I'll go at once," said Isobel, putting the kettle among the ashes,where it could not boil over, and slamming on her hat. "It looks ever soworn and old, but the letters are cut in the stone, like they are ongraves."
She led the way up the steep, narrow path which scaled the hill, on tothe cliff above, and after a little hunting about, found the bramblyspot which had been the scene of her quarrel with Belle.
The owner of the island knelt down and examined the stone intently forsome moments.
"To think that I must have passed this place dozens and dozens of timesand never have known of its existence!" he said at last. "I havesearched the neighbourhood so often for some record of the Vikingperiod. Strange that it should be found now by the chance discovery of achild!"
"Are they really letters, then?" inquired Isobel. "Is it some foreignlanguage?"
"Yes; they are runes, very old and perfect ones. The runic characterswere used by our Teutonic forefathers before they learned the Romanalphabet. This stone shows that long, long ago the Northmen have beenhere."
"The same Northmen who came in their great ships, and burnt the abbey,and killed St. Alcuin at the altar?" asked Isobel, keenly interested.
"Very likely, or their sons or grandsons."
"Why did they write upon a stone here?"
"It was set up as a monument--just like a grave stone in a churchyard."
"But if the Northmen were pagans, why is there a cross carved on thestone?"
"Many of them settled in this country, and became Christians, and turnedfarmers instead of sea-robbers."
"Perhaps the monks went back to the abbey afterwards and taught them,"suggested Isobel. "I always thought they must have felt so ashamed ofthemselves for running away. They couldn't all be saints like St.Alcuin, but they might do their best to make up."
"No doubt they did. They were brave men in those days, who were notafraid to risk their lives. It is possible that a small chapel may havebeen built here once, though the very memory of it has passed away."
"Is some one buried here, then?"
"Yes. Put into English characters, the inscription runs: '_Ulf suartiristi krus thana aft Fiak sun sin_.' That is to say: '_Black Ulf raisedthis cross for Fiak his son_.'"
"I wish we knew who they were," said Isobel. "The son must have diedfirst. Perhaps he was killed in battle, and then his father would put upthis cross. How very sorry he must have felt!"
"Very," said the colonel sadly--"especially if he were his only son. Itis hard to see the green bough taken while the old branch is spared."
"My father died fighting," said Isobel softly. "But his grave is ever sofar away in South Africa."
"And so is my son's. Death reaps his harvest, and hearts are as sore,whether it is the twentieth century or the tenth. Customs change verylittle. We put up monuments to show the resting-places of those we love,and a thousand years ago Black Ulf raised this cross that Fiak his sonshould not be forgotten."
"And he's not forgotten," said Isobel, "because we've found it all thislong time afterwards. I didn't know what it meant until you told me. I'mso glad I can read it now. I want to tell mother; she likes oldmonuments, or any kind of old things."
"She has evidently taught you to think and to use your eyes," said thecolonel, "or you would not have copied the inscription, and then I mightnever have discovered the stone."
"What a pity that would have been!" returned Isobel. "I was very luckyto find it. Do you think it makes up a little for the maidenhair?"
"Completely; though, remember, I didn't blame you for that incident. Itwas your friends--the same young ruffians, I believe, who are racing upthe sands now, dragging some carcass behind them."
"Oh! they're coming back for tea," cried Isobel. "And I forgot all aboutthe kettle! I hope it hasn't boiled away. I ought to go. You haven'ttold me yet, please, what you would like us to bring you instead of rentfor the island. I should like to know, so that I can tell the others."
"I'll take this discovery in lieu of all payment," declared the colonel."You and your companions, the Sea Urchins, are welcome to have free runof the place while you are here. Good-bye, little friend! You alwaysseem to turn up in exceptional circumstances. You and I appear to have afew interests in common, so I hope that some time I may have thepleasure of meeting you again."