The islanders towed the laden boat ashore, where a throng was waiting their return. Numerous questions were asked, numerous conjectures made. The udaller and his daughters were summoned and the precious cargo displayed. Table utensils of silver, personal ornaments of gold, silken stuffs and snowy linens, rich wines and fruits, and precious grain, whatever could please feminine taste, were spread before the wondering people, while the three sisters stood mute and blushing, now cowering with strange shame, anon glancing with curious pride at all around. Presently, their old father addressed them in grave and troubled tones: ‘Tell us the meaning of this strange _güdic_ [riddle].’ At that, the two younger girls fell on their knees and clasped his hands entreatingly, while the eldest sister cried: ‘O father, do not be angered, and I will tell ye all. We heard you speak of the Denschman in his sore strait with nobody to pity him. It’s true he had dealt cruelly by our isle; but—but, O father, it lay heavy on our hearts that a man—and such a man, with such a goodly presence and such a bold spirit—should die like an otter trapped in a snare; and so, we—we went to the rock in the dark hour of nicht, and we lowered a _keschie_ [basket] to him with food and cordials and clothes—everything to keep in life. And then—when we knew that our men meant to stone the poor defenceless captive to death, our souls were melted with pity; so we took the boat and helped him to escape. _We_ were not afraid of the Denschman; and, truth to tell, he can be kind and gentle like other men. Or ere he left the isle—all in the mirk hour—he promised that, because of what we had done, he would never harry Unst again. No doubt, it was wrong of us, father; but then, oh, be mindful that the plight he was in could not fail to touch lasses’ hearts. And if good instead of harm come of it—nay, _has_ come of it—ye need not trouble yourself more, but forgive us, and trust the Denschman to keep his word. He will do so. We all know that a viking stands to his promise, whate’er betide.’ ‘The lass has spoken words of wisdom,’ said a prudent matron, eyeing the viking’s royal gifts; and a laughing seaman added: ‘Ay, and what would come of us poor men if lasses were not pitiful, and not just altogether wise at times!’ So the old udaller forgave his daughters, and—as legend says—‘after that Unst was often benefited, and never more harried, by the Denschman,’ whose ‘had’ is still pointed out to the inquiring stranger. AN ELECTRICAL FURNACE.