Throwing the plaid about her head and shoulders, Aasta went downward by the craggy rocks and was soon upon the beach.  The boat was already half in the water.  The young Norseman turned with a startled look at hearing footsteps on the shingle.  Aasta walked towards him slowly, bending down now and again as though she were gathering shellfish.  Seeing that it was only, as he supposed, some harmless fisherwoman, Harald took courage and waited.

“You are abroad betimes, my young master,” said she, speaking in the Norse.  “And methinks you have work that ill befits such white hands and comely apparel as yours.  Let me, I pray you, help you to launch your boat.”

“Your words, fair damsel,” said the youth as he regarded her in wondering surprise, “surely betoken that you are not of the people of this land.”

“And yours, my master, that you are equally foreign to these shores.  But tell me, sir, where go you in your boat?”

“I go hence to Islay,” said he, “if so be I may without help adventure so far.”

“Methinks,” said Aasta, “that it were at least wise in you to have the help of a pair of oars.”

“There is a pair lying at the foot of the cliff there,” said the youth, pointing up the beach.

“Go, then, and bring them,” said she, “while I launch your boat; and it may be that, if you are bound for Islay, I will, if it so please you, accompany you.”

“Sweet damsel,” said he, “surely some strange good fortune hath sent you to my aid!” and at that he ran up the beach to the place where the fishermen had left their oars.

As he went the cry of a peewit rose in the morning air

“Pee-wit, pee-weet-weet!”

In a few moments Allan Redmain was at Aasta’s side.  She bade him stand behind her.  Harald the hostage, not seeing him, walked back towards the boat bearing the two oars over his shoulder.  Then suddenly Allan confronted him.

“So, my brave viking, you would escape, eh?” he said, smiling at the lad’s discomfiture.

Harald frowning and with flashing eyes laid the oars across the boat’s thwarts, and grasping the gunwale tried to launch her.  Aasta, making pretence to help him, pulled the opposite way and the boat did not move.  Then seeing that he was intercepted the lad promptly whipped out his dirk and sprang towards Allan with his weapon raised.

Allan stepped aside, yet did not attempt to unsheathe his sword.  Harald followed upon him, but in an instant Aasta had leapt behind him and flung her plaid in a loop over his head.  With a vigorous tug at the two ends of the garment she pulled him over and he fell upon his back.  Allan seized the dirk that dropped from the lad’s hand and threw it aside.  Grasping Harald’s two wrists he then turned him over, planting his knee upon his back.

“Now, Aasta,” said Allan calmly, “methinks we had best secure his arms with my plaid.  Give me an end of it that we may twist it; so.  Now lace it well under his arms while I bring it round his legs.  There; he will not readily draw himself out of that noose.  I will leave him in your care until I launch Ronald Gray’s boat.”