“Na, na,” continued my father, “I dinna doot there will be something wondersome in the stone; and if any person would have such a thing, who would it be but the Norseman?”

Thus did I become convinced in my mind that, by the possession of that little gold-encircled stone, I bore a charmed life.

That night I lay with my precious talisman under my pillow.  I thought of the events of the afternoon, and, remembering my fight with Tom Kinlay, attributed my victory over him to the influence which that talisman, then in my pocket, had already begun to work.  I tried to imagine what kind of adventures had befallen the old viking whose bones we had disturbed, and wondered if I should ever encounter any similar perils.  My opportunities of adventure were fewer than his could have been; but I determined to give my full trust to the mysterious aid in which Jarl Haffling had trusted in the ancient days.  Then I heard my father unmooring the boat from the pier to take Captain Gordon out to his ship, and as the sound of the oars in the rowlocks died away in the night I fell asleep.

Chapter XII.  A Tragedy And A Transportation.

I was up and about on the following morning when the town was yet asleep.  A cool, dewy mist hung in the air, and the rising sun spread a rosy bloom on the eastern sky.  When I arrived at Andrew Drever’s house there was no one moving within, but the door was not locked, and quietly lifting the latch I went inside to find the cat Baudrons, that I might take him out to the Lydia according to my promise.

I made so little noise that even the jackdaw did not seem to notice my entrance, and I looked to his cage on the side table.  To my surprise the cage door was standing wide open and Peter was not there.  But presently, from the school room, I heard him chattering and croaking.  Following the sound of his voice I discovered the bird perched high upon the dominie’s desk looking down at Baudrons, who crouched below him on the floor in the very act of preparing to spring, his checks swelled out and his great tail lashing the dusty floor.  The door creaked as I opened it, and before I could interfere the cat was upon the desk with Peter struggling in his claws.  Peter left a few black feathers in Baudron’s possession, and escaping, flew over to the table by the window, where he hopped about with the greatest coolness, muttering, “William the Conqueror, ten sixty-six”—­words which he had gathered from our history lessons in the school.  Baudrons was after him in a moment.

And now followed a terrible encounter.  Instead of flying away the bird deliberately met the cat and stabbed at him valiantly with his long, heavy beak.  They fell over on the floor together, and as they struggled, amid much noise of growling and chattering and flapping of wings, I flung my cap at them, trying to effect a separation.  Alas! before I could help the dominie’s pet, the cat had the uppermost of him, and ran off into the schoolmaster’s private room with the jackdaw held firmly in his teeth.