“No.  I’ve to see old Flett this morning to pay him some money.  Besides, we’re too many for the pinnace.  Can we not go by road?”

And Captain Gordon looked to me for an answer.

“You can get Oliver Gray’s pony and gig,” I replied.  “It’s about fourteen miles by road.”

“Will you come with me, then, Halcro?” he asked.

“Certainly; I’ll be very glad.  I know the way well.”

The two other skippers, with Mr. Watt and the rest, then made arrangements for their boating party, intending to sail round to Scapa, and thence walk across the little peninsula to Kirkwall.

When Mr. Gordon had brushed himself up a bit, we went ashore together and found out Davie Flett, whose business occupied very little of the captain’s time, and soon we were at the door of Oliver Gray’s inn watching his Shetland pony being harnessed into the gig.

“Now, Halcro, are you going to drive?  Up you get,” said Mr. Gordon.

“Surely you dinna expect me to drive, Captain Gordon!” I exclaimed.  “Why, I never held a pair of reins in my life!”

“All right, my lad! get over to larboard there, and I’ll see what we can do.  You can be pilot and give your orders, and I’ll take the helm.

“Come along, Sheltie; off we go!”

The weather was very fine, the roads in good condition, and the pony fresh, so that we looked for a very pleasant drive to the capital.  We drove along the north road by Hamla Voe and past the green cornfields of Cairston, and then over the hill until the great loch of Stenness stretched before us, reflecting on its surface the dappled, woolly clouds.

When we reached the Bridge of Waithe and turned westward, I asked my companion to slacken pace, for I had seen on the white road in advance of us two figures that were familiar to me.

“Who are they, Halcro?” Mr. Gordon inquired; “two of your school friends, eh?”

“Yes,” I replied.  “The lassie walking on the grass with the bare feet and carrying a green bag is Hilda Paterson—­Jack Paterson’s daughter.”

“Ay!  Jack Paterson’s girl, eh?  Well, and the other one with the pretty hair, walking along here like a stately young princess, who is she?”

We were already close to the two girls, however, and I hesitated to reply.  He drew the reins, and I saw him regarding the elder girl with great interest.

She raised her blue eyes as we stopped—­eyes as blue and clear as the sky itself.  Her fair hair hung in waves about her shoulders, and as her rosy lips were parted to say, “Good morning, Halcro!” they revealed a row of white and regular teeth.

“Good morning, Thora!” I said in reply to the greeting she had given.

“I hope your foot is mending,” said she very gently.

“Yes,” said I; and Captain Gordon turned to me as though he wondered at my sudden shyness.

Thora looked down at a daisy growing at her feet in the green turf, seeming to seek inspiration from its golden heart.  Then she raised her eyes to me again and said softly—­oh, so softly: