When the hamper of provisions was safely on board, and the party for the picnic had followed it, of course the sea air and the fine scenery set every tongue loose, so that the solitary places rang again with the merry laughter and the voice of song.  And then, when the first irrepressible pleasure had spent itself a little, the young folks gathered round the three brothers, and listened with attentive interest to the yarns they were spinning to Mr. Morton about some of the places they were passing; for every spot in the Shetlands has its own story.

Madeleine noticed that beneath the mirth and apparent gayety of the men, there seemed to be an under-current of deep feeling, probably born of sorrow, and she determined, if possible, to find her way to the hearts of the fine manly fellows, in whom she began to be interested.

It was not long before an opportunity occurred.  The boat was steered round a huge bluff, and before our friends were aware where they were going, they found themselves in a vast cavern.  There was something awful in the half-darkness into which they passed, and the dreary stillness, only broken by the splashing of the water against the sides of the cave, enhanced the feeling.  As the boat rested in the midst of the cavern, they looked up, and saw as it were, stars shining through the massive roof; they looked around, and the huge rocks seemed like burnished metal.  It was a curious sight, and the sounds were equally curious for every word they spoke came back again to the speaker, with a ghostly hollowness.

Madeleine, with Howard and Martin, sang a song together, which sounded splendidly within this vaulted cave, with all its wild re-echoings.  When it ended, the boat glided slowly out of the cavern, and although they had enjoyed the somber magnificence they had left, they were all glad to be in the fresh air and cheerful sunshine again.

Madeleine watched her opportunity, and when she saw Eric alone in the fore part of the boat, she quietly disengaged herself from the rest of the party, and, sitting down beside him, said:  “Eric, I believe you have seen some great sorrow, though you are so young.”

“I was only twenty-two last birthday, Miss, but I have had sorrow enough.”

“Would it pain you to tell me your story?” she said.

“No, Miss, it may do me good to tell it.  It is a short and sad one.  Two years ago my two brothers, Robbie and Gideon, both younger than I am, went away from here on a whaling expedition.  There was a fine crew of fifty, half of them Shetlanders and the rest English.  There were one or two gentlemen’s sons amongst the crew, and as nice a set of fellows altogether as a seaman could wish.  They set sail in good spirits, and it was from the headland yonder that we heard their cheers, as they sailed out on their whaling expedition.  From that day to this no word has come of them, and we fear that all are lost.  It has been a heavy blow to us.  When they went away it seemed as if the light had gone out of the old home, for they were young and merry and clever.  The long waiting to hear from them has been as bad as the fear that they have perished.”