I repeated what Grace Drever told me--how the stone might protect
me from accident and from the monsters of the sea; from the kraken
and the kelpie, the warlocks and the wirracows; and how, having the
charm at my neck, I need never fear climbing a cliff or entering
upon the most dangerous adventure.

"And do you believe all this, my lad?" asked Captain Gordon, taking
his pipe from his lips and addressing me.

"Well," I returned, with an earnestness that must have shown that I
had not the smallest doubt upon the matter, "auld Grace Drever said
it was 'as true as death,' and the dominie did not deny that it was
'just possible.' What for should I not believe it? and what for
would the stone be bound with the gold ring and buried with the
other gear if it were not of some value beyond ordinary?"

"Och! but I dinna doot there will be something in the stone," said
my father, who, at the mention of the dominie's belief, cast away
all questioning. "And it will not be the first time I have heard of
such cantrips."

And he told us of a man named Willie Reoch, a fisherman, who was
preserved from the great Bore of Papa Westray in some such way.
Willie Reoch and three other fishers were away at the saith
fishing, and when their boat was driven by the wind near to the
Bore, they were drawn under by the whirling current and swamped.
Reoch had round his neck a charm which Bessie Millie, the witch,
had given to him, and so was the only one saved.

"Na, na," continued my father, "I dinna doot there will be