The Pilots of Pomona: A Story of the Orkney IslandsLeighton, Robert
General
The Pilots of Pomona: A Story of the Orkney Islands
Leighton, Robert
Orkney (Scotland) -- Fiction
Mrs. Kinlay, who was a gentle and good woman, had much tribulation
to bear up against in the unhappy deaths of her husband and son;
and, having but little of the sympathy of her neighbours, she
resolved to leave the island. Accordingly, as soon as she recovered
her health, the farm, stock, and furniture at Crua Breck were sold,
and the unfortunate widow took passage over to Caithness, where she
remained among her relatives for the rest of her days.
A great dread came upon me when I heard that Mrs. Kinlay had left
for Scotland. I thought that Thora Quendale had gone with her, and
that I had lost sight of my dear girl friend for ever. I feared
even to ask if this was so; but passing along the road one evening,
soon after we had dropped anchor in the bay, I chanced to meet
Andrew Drever walking home with a string of trout hanging at his
side.
Having exchanged a few friendly remarks with me, he asked if I
would go and spend the evening with him.
"Come and take some supper with us, lad," said he. "Thora will be
glad to see ye."
"Thora!" I exclaimed.
"Ay, Thora. Did you not know Thora lives with us now?"
"No; I thought she had gone to Caithness with Mrs. Kinlay."
"Nay, nay," said Andrew; "Thora can look after herself now, since
we heard from Copenhagen. But come along as soon's you can, and
we'll tell you all about it."
And with that he trudged away humming a lightsome tune.
Chapter XLII. A Choice Among Three.
Not many minutes after I left the schoolmaster, when I was passing
by the wharf, I met Jack Paterson. Jack was standing looking down
into the water, with his two hands deep in his trousers pockets,
and his face bearing an expression of curious indecision.
"Hello, Jack, what's troubling you now?" I asked, approaching him.
"Troubling me! Well, I suppose it is troubling me, too. The fact
is, Ericson, I've been asked to take command of the new pilots."
"Well, man, that's surely nothing to look so gloomy about, is it?"
"No, lad; and I wouldna trouble sae muckle if I could see my way
clear to takin' the offer. But, ye see, Halcro, I canna do the
piloting without a boat."
"I see, I see. Ay, Jack, but that's a pity, man. And ye canna get
the money towards buying the St. Magnus?"
"No; the St. Magnus is for sale, I weel ken that, and she's a right
good boat. But where can a poor crofter body like me get the
siller, think ye?"
"'Deed, I dinna ken, Jack; but maybe the siller will come somehow.
There's many a one in Orkney would advance it for you, surely.
Dinna be cast down about it, man. What about your crew?"
"Weel, I was thinkin' of yersel for one, Halcro?"
"Of me!"
"Ay, and Jimmie Crageen, and Ronald Ray from Kirbister, and Steenie
Barrie; all o' them good honest men and weel acquainted wi' the
Orkneys. What d'ye say, Halcro? Will ye join us?"
"I canna say, Jack. Ye see there's the Falcon. I couldna leave
Davie Flett very well; though I'll not deny I'd rather be a pilot
than anything else."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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