I do not know how it fared with Thora when she reached Crua Breck, but I was not long in doubt as to the result of her immersion in the underground stream. The next morning I heard by accident that she was ill in bed. For many long weeks she lay weary and helpless, and it took all the skill of Dr. Linklater of Stromness to bring her round to health again. During this time I heard nothing of her, and much did I fear that her illness was very serious. One thing that consoled me, however, was the thought that she had the viking's talisman in her keeping, for in the excitement of seeing the cart passing with the dead sheep, I had entirely forgotten to ask her for the return of the stone, and she went into the house with it still suspended from her neck. I was confident that she would keep it in safety, and while she had it in her possession I felt that her recovery to health was assured. Chapter XXVIII. Captain Flett Of The "Falcon." The unfortunate occurrence which deprived us of our little flock of sheep brought an increase of sorrow and hardship to our family, whose resources had already been so greatly impoverished; and when the gloomy winter days came on, with their biting frosts and keen cold winds, the prospects at Lyndardy grew as dull as the leaden clouds that hung in the sky. Our mother's woeful sighs were painful to my ears, while I felt how helpless I was to soften her sorrows. Sometimes, when I saw the tears in her eyes, I would silently wish for her sake that I was older and could do more towards filling my father's place. But work of the kind I was fitted for was scarce in Orkney. Had I been able to choose for myself I should have been, like my father, a pilot. But the chain of circumstances which had made this the vocation of my family for three generations was now broken. Carver Kinlay and his crew were having things all their own way, and in the meantime I was doing that most trying of all work--waiting and hoping for what seemed to become every day less probable. But I did not pass my hours in idleness. Whenever an outward-bound ship came into the harbour I sought her captain, and asked for a berth aboard. Sometimes I would even walk as far as Kirkwall to see if in that port I could get what was so difficult to procure in Stromness. One cold, wintry day, when the wind was blowing strong and cutting from the north, I found myself in Kirkwall. Walking along the wharf, looking down upon the decks of the vessels that lay against the old stone quay--brigs, barques, and schooners, some of them bound foreign, but most of them from Scotland--I came to a little coasting schooner that I had often seen in the harbour of Stromness. She was named the Falcon. I was looking down at the green copper plating near her cutwater, when I heard a gruff but cheery voice calling out: "Hullo! there, young Ericson! Are ye not coming aboard, lad?" "Hello, Davie!" I responded, jumping down upon the deck. "Here's a cold day for ye, eh?"