The Eagle galley then unattended made sail across the wide channel
westward towards Islay, whose high hills could already be seen like blue
mists upon the far-off sea line.
"Now, my young valiant," said Sir Piers to Harald the hostage, who sat
upon the after deck looking wistfully over the tumbling waters, "know
you the colour of your native hills?"
"Well indeed do I know that," said the lad, "and by your course I now
judge that you are indeed taking me home, for which I am most truly
thankful. My sojourn in your country has been little to my taste. Well
will it be for the lord of Bute, ay, and for his Majesty of Scots also,
if I take not a bitter revenge for all that I have suffered at their
hands. But, prithee, turn your ship's head yet more to the southward to
catch the current of Loch Andail, and so gain a few minutes' time. St.
Olaf, how my heart beats at sight of those hills! Ah, how the moments
lag! speed on, speed on!"
"Patience, patience, Harald, you are not landed yet," said the knight.
"And should your good father not choose to agree to our terms, then back
you go to Scotland as speedily as we came."
"Let me but see my father and he will agree," said Harald.
"Let your father agree and he will see you," returned Sir Piers.
"Look you," said the lad with flashing eyes, "if you put me not upon the
shores of Islay in two hours' time, then by the soul of St.
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