WAR WITHOUT AND PEACE WITHIN, PACE 366. THE LIGHTHOUSE BEING THE STORY OF A GREAT FIGHT BETWEEN MAN AND THE SEA. BY R M. BALLANTYNE, AUTHOR OF "POST HASTE;" "IN THE TRACK of THE TROOPS;" "THE SETTLER AKD THE 8AVAGK ;" " UNDER THB WAVES ;" " RIVERS OF ICE ;" "BLACK IVORY j" "THE PIRATE CITY;" " ERLINO THE BOLD ;" "THB NORSEMEN IN i BE WEST ;" "THE FLOATING LIOHT ;" ' THB IRON HORSE ;" '' FIGHTIMO THE FLAMES;" " SHIFTING WINDS ;" " DEEP DOWN ;" "THE LIFEBOAT;" "GASCOYNE:" "THE OOI.DION DKEAM," ETC ETC, TWENTY-FOURTH THOUSAND. LONDON: JAMES NISBET & CO., 21 BERNERS STREET. [Ml right* reserved.} PREFACE. A GREAT FIQHT is worthy of being brought pro- minently before the public. This book contains the record of a great fight. I commend it, reader, to your perusal, in the hope that, whether pugna- ciously inclined or not, you may enjoy it I take this opportunity of thanking the Board of Commissioners of Northern Lighthouses for their courtesy and kindness in permitting me to spend a fortnight in the Bell Kock Lighthouse, and in furnishing me with much of the information neces- sary to the construction of my tale. B.M. B, LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. WAR WITHOUT AND PEACE WITHIN . . Frontispiece BIG SWANKIE FINDS MORE THAN HE EXPECTED . P. 9 RUBY HEARS SOUNDS .THAT ANNOY HIM ... 18 A HEAVY SEA 125 THE BEACON-HOUSE ON THE BELL ROCK . . .260 RUBY SURPRISES HIS FRIENDS IN THE KITCHEN OF THE BELL ROCK LIGHTHOUSE . . 358 CONTENTS. PAOB CHAP. I. THE ROCK, 1 II. THE LOVERS AND THE PRESS-GANG, , . . 14 III. OUR HERO OBLIGED TO GO TO SEA, . 4 . . 25 IV. THE BURGLARY, 33 V. THE BELL ROCK INVADED, . .... .43 VI. THE CAPTAIN CHANGES HIS QUARTERS, ... 50 VII. RUBY IN DIFFICULTIES, 62 VIII. THE SCENE CHANGES RUBY IS VULCANIZED, . . 72 IX. STORMS AND TROUBLES, 88 X. THE RISING OF THE TIDE A NARROW ESCAPE, . . 104 XI. A STORM, AND A DISMAL STATE OF THINGS ON BOARD THE "PHAROS," 116 XH. BELL ROCK BILLOWS AN UNEXPECTED VISIT A DIS- ASTER AND A RESCUE, 133 XIII. A SLEEPLESS BUT A PLEASANT NIGHT, . . . 150 XIV. SOMEWHAT STATISTICAL 156 XV. RUBY HAS A RISE IN LIFE, AND A FALL, . . . 167 XVI. NEW ARRANGEMENTS THE CAPTAIN'S PHILOSOPHY IN REGARD TO PIPEOLOGY, 180 XVII. A MEETING WITH OLD FRIENDS, AND AN EXCURSION, . 188 XVHI. THE BATTLE OF ARBROATH, AND OTHER WARLIKE MAT- TERS, . . .... 198 VI11 CONTENTS. PAGE XIX. AN ADVENTURE SECRETS REVEALED, AND A PRIZE, . 217 XX. THE SMUGGLERS ARE " TREATED " TO GIN AND ASTONISH- MENT, 228 XXI. THE BELL ROCK AGAIN A DREARY NIGHT IN A STRANGE HABITATION, 238 XXII. LIFE IN THE BEACON STORY OF THE EDDYSTONE LIGHT- HOUSE, 255 xxm. THE STORM, 272 XXIV. A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS, .281 XXV. THE BELL ROCK IN A FOG NARROW ESCAPE OF THE "SMEATON," . 296 XXVI. A SUDDEN AND TREMENDOUS CHANGE IN RUBY'S FOR- TUNES, 310 XXVII. OTHER THINGS BESIDES MURDER " WILL OUT," . . 319 XXVHI. THE LIGHTHOUSE COMPLETED BUSY'S ESCAPE FROM TROUBLE BY A DESPERATE VENTURE, . . . 333 XXIX. THE WRECK, 348 XXX. OLD FRIENDS IN NEW CIRCUMSTANCES, .... 355 XXXI. MIDNIGHT CHAT IN A LANTERN, 367 XXXH. EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE BELL ROCK, AND OLD MEMORIES RECALLED, 373 xxxm. CONCLUSION, - 395 THE LIGHTHOUSE. CHAPTER I. THE BOCK. EARLY on a summer morning, about the beginning of the present century, two fishermen of Forfarshire wended their way to the shore, launched their boat, and put off to sea. One of the men was tall and ill-favoured, the other, short and well-favoured. Both were square- built, powerful fellows, like most men of the class to which they belonged. It was about that calm hour of the morning which precedes sunrise, when most living creatures are still asleep, and inanimate nature wears, more than at other times, the semblance of repose. The sea was like a sheet of undulating glass. A breeze had been expected, but, in defiance of expectation, it had not come, so the boatmen were obliged to use their oars. They used them well, however, insomuch that A 2 THE LIGHTHOUSE. the land ere long appeared like a blue line on the horizon, then became tremulous and indistinct, and finally vanished in the mists of morning. The men pulled " with a will," as seamen pithily express it, and in silence. Only once during the first hour did the big, ill-favoured man venture a remark. Eeferring to the absence of wind, he said, that " it would be a' the better for landin' on the rock." This was said in the broadest vernacular dialect, as, indeed, was everything that dropped from the fishermen's lips. We take the liberty of modifying it a little, believing that strict fidelity here would entail inevitable loss of sense to many of our readers. The remark, such as it was, called forth a rejoinder from the short comrade, who stated his belief that " they would be likely to find somethin' there that day." They then relapsed into silence. Under the regular stroke of the oars the boat advanced steadily, straight out to sea. At first the mirror over which they skimmed was grey, and the foam at the cutwater leaden-coloured. By degrees they rowed, as it were, into a brighter region. The sea a-head lightened up, became pale yellow, then warmed into saffron, and, when the sun rose, blazed into liquid gold. The words spoken by the boatmen, though few THE LIGHTHOUSE. 3 were significant. The "rock" alluded to was the celebrated and much dreaded Inch Cape more fami- liarly known as the Bell Eock which being at that time unmarked by lighthouse or beacon of any kind, was the terror of mariners who were making for the firths of Forth and Tay. The " something" that was expected to be found there may be guessed at, when we say that one of the fiercest storms that ever swept our eastern shores had just exhausted itself after strewing the coast with wrecks. The breast of ocean, though calm on the surface, as has been said, was still heaving with a mighty swell, from the effects of the recent elemental conflict. " D 'ye see the breakers noo, Davy ?" inquired the ill-favoured man, who pulled the aft oar. "Ay, and hear them, too," said Davy Spink, ceasing to row, and looking over his shoulder to- wards the seaward horizon. " Yer een and lugs are better than mine, then," returned the ill-favoured comrade, who answered, when among his friends, to the name of Big Swankie, otherwise, and more correctly, Jock Swankie. " Od ! I believe ye 're right," he added, shading his heavy red brows with his heavier and redder hand, " that is the rock, but a man wad need the een o' an eagle to see onything in the face o' sik a bleezin' sun. Pull awa', Davy, we '11 hae time to catch a bit cod or a haddy afore the rock 's bare." 4 THE LIGHTHOUSE. Influenced by these encouraging hopes, the stout pair urged their boat in the direction of a thin line of snow-white foam that lay apparently many miles away, but which was in reality not very far distant. By degrees the white line expanded in size and became massive, as though a huge breaker were rolling towards them ; ever and anon jets of foam flew high into the air from various parts of the mass, like smoke from a cannon's mouth. Presently, a low continuous roar became audible above the noise of the oars ; as the boat advanced, the swells from the south-east could be seen towering upwards as they neared the foaming spot, gradually changing their broad-backed form, and coming on in majestic walls of green water, which fell with indescribable grandeur into the seething caldron. No rocks were visible, there was no apparent cause for this wild confusion in the midst of the otherwise calm sea. But the fishermen knew that the Bell Bock was underneath the foam, and that in less than an hour its jagged peaks would be left uncovered by the falling tide. As the swell of the sea came in from the eastward, there was a belt of smooth water on the west side of the rock. Here the fishermen cast anchor, and, baiting their hand-lines, began to fish. At first they were unsuccessful, but before half an hour had elapsed, the cod began to nibble, and Big Swankie THE LIGHTHOUSE. 5 ere long hauled up a fish of goodly size. Davy Spink followed suit, and in a few minutes a dozen fish lay spluttering in the bottom of the boat. " Time 's up noo," said Swankie, coiling away his line. " Stop, stop, here's a wallupper," cried Davy, who was an excitable man ; " we better fish a while langer bring the cleek, Swankie, he 's ower big to noo, lad, cleek him ! that's it ! Oh-o-o-o !" The prolonged groan with which Davy brought his speech to a sudden termination was in conse- quence of the line breaking and the fish escaping, just as Swankie was about to strike the iron hook into its side. " Hech ! lad, that was a guid ane," said the dis- appointed man with a sigh ; " but he 's awa'." " Ay," observed Swankie, " and we must awa' too, so up anchor, lad. The rock's lookin' oot o' the sea, and time 's precious." The anchor was speedily pulled up, and they rowed towards the rock, the ragged edges of which were now visible at intervals in the midst of the foam which they created. At low tide an irregular portion of the Bell Eock, less than a hundred yards in length, and fifty yards in breadth, is uncovered and left exposed for two or three hours. It does not appear in the form of a single mass or islet, but in a succession of serrated 6 THE LIGHTHOUSE. ledges of various heights, between and amongst which the sea flows until the tide has fallen pretty low. At full ebb the rock appears like a dark islet, covered with seaweed, and studded with deep pools of water, most of which are connected with the sea by narrow channels running between the ledges. The highest part of the rock does not rise more than seven feet above the level of the sea at the lowest tide. To enter one of the pools by means of the chan- nels above referred to is generally a matter of difficulty, and often of extreme danger, as the swell of the sea, even in calm weather, bursts over these ledges with such violence as to render the channels at times impassable. The utmost caution, therefore, is necessary. Our fishermen, however, were accustomed to land there occasionally in search of the remains of wrecks, and knew their work welL They approached the rock on the lee side, which was, as has been said, to the westward. To a spectator viewing them from any point but from the boat itself, it would have appeared that the reckless men were sailing into the jaws of certain death, for the breakers burst around them so confusedly in all directions that their in- stant destruction seemed inevitable. But Davy Spink, looking over his shoulder as he sat at the bow-oar, saw a narrow lead of comparatively still THE LIGHTHOUSE. 7 water in the midst of the foam, along which he guided the boat with consummate skill, giving only a word or two of direction to Swankie, who instantly acted in accordance therewith. " Pull, pull, lad," said Davy. Swankie pulled, and the boat swept round with its bow to the east just in time to meet a billow, which, towering high above its fellows, burst com- pletely over the rocks, and appeared to be about to sweep away all before it. For a moment the boat was as if embedded in snow, then it sank once more into the lead among the floating tangle, and the men pulled with might and main in order to escape the next wave. They were just in time. It burst over the same rocks with greater violence than its pre- decessor, but the boat had gained the shelter of the next ledge, and lay floating securely in the deep, quiet pool within, while the men restedj-on their oars, and watched the chaos of the water rush harm- lessly by. In another moment they had landed and secured the boat to a projecting rock. Few words of conversation passed between these practical men. They had gone there on particular business. Time and tide proverbially wait for no man, but at the Bell Eock they wait a much briefer period than elsewhere. Between low water and the time when it would be impossible to quit the rock 8 THE LIGHTHOUSE. without being capsized, there was only a space of two or three hours sometimes more, frequently less so it behoved the men to economize time. Rocks covered with wet seaweed and rugged in form are not easy to walk over ; a fact which was soon proved by Swankie staggering violently once or twice, and by Spink falling flat on his back. Neither paid attention to his comrade's misfortunes in this way. Each scrambled about actively, search- ing with care among the crevices of the rocks, and from time to time picking up articles which they thrust into their pockets or laid on their shoulders, according as weight and dimensions required. In a short time they returned to their boat pretty well laden. "Weel, lad, what luck?" inquired Spink as Swankie and he met the former with a grappling iron on his shoulder, the latter staggering under the weight of a mass of metal " Not much," replied Swankie ; " nothin' but heavy metal this mornin', only a bit of a cookin' stove an' a cannon shot that 's all." " Never mind, try again. There must ha' bin two or three wrecks on the rock this gale," said Davy, as he and his friend threw their burdens into the boat, and hastened to resume the search. At first Spink was the more successful of the two. He returned to the boat with various articles more BIG SWANKIE FINDS MORE THAN HE EXPECTED. PAGE 9. THE LIGHTHOUSE. 9 than once, while his comrade continued his rambles unsuccessfully. At last, however, Big Swankie came to a gully or inlet where a large mass of the debris of a wreck was piled up in indescribable confusion, in the midst of which lay the dead body of an old man. Swankie's first impulse was to shout to his companion, but he checked himself, and proceeded to examine the pockets of the dead man. Raising the corpse with some difficulty he placed it on the ledge of rock. Observing a ring on the little finger of the right hand, he removed it and put it hastily in his pocket. Then he drew a red morocco case from an inner breast pocket in the dead man's coat. To his surprise and delight he found that it contained a gold watch and several gold rings and brooches, in some of which were beautiful stones. Swankie was no judge of jewellery, but he could not avoid the conviction that these things must needs be valuable. He laid the case down on the rock beside him, and eagerly searched the other pockets. In one he found a large clasp- knife and a pencil-case ; in another a leather purse which felt heavy as he drew it out. His eyes sparkled at the first glance he got of the contents, for they were sovereigns ! Just as he made this discovery, Davy Spink climbed over the ledge at his back, and Swankie hastily thrust the purse under nfcath the body of the dead man. 1 THE LIGHTHOUSE. " Hallo ! lad, what have ye there ? Hey! watches r.nd rings come, we 're in luck this mornin'." " We !" exclaimed Swankie, somewhat sternly, " you didn't find that case." " Na, lad, but we Ve aye divided, an' I dinna see what for we should change our plan noo." " We Ve nae paction to that effec' the case o* kickshaws is mine," retorted Swankie. " Half o't," suggested Spink. " Weel, weel," cried the other with affected care- lessness, " I 'd 'scorn to be sae graspin'. For the matter o' that ye may hae it all to yersel', but I '11 hae the next thing we git that 's worth muckle a' to mysel'." So saying Swankie stooped to continue his search of the body, and in a moment or two drew out the purse with an exclamation of surprise. " See, I 'm in luck, Davy ! Virtue 's aye rewarded, they say. This is mine, and I doot not there '11 be some siller intilt." " Goold !" cried Davy, with dilated eyes, as his comrade emptied the contents into his large hand, and counted over thirty sovereigns. "Ay, lad, ye can keep the what-d'ye-ca' urns, and I '11 keep the siller." " I Ve seen that face before," observed Spink, look- ing intently at the body. " tike enough," said Swankie, with an air of in- THE LIGHTHOUSE. 11 difference, as he put the gold into his pocket. " 1 think I 've seed it mysel'. It looks like auld Jamie Brand, but I didna ken him weeL" " It 's just him," said Spink, with a touch of sad- ness. " Ay, ay, that'll fa' heavy on the auld woman. But, come, it'll no' do to stand haverin' this way. Let's see what else is on him." They found nothing more of any value, but a piece of paper was discovered, wrapped up in oilskin, and carefully fastened with red tape, in the vest pocket of the dead man. It contained writing, and had been so securely wrapped up, that it was only a little damped. Davy Spink, who found it, tried in vain to read the writing ; Davy's education had beeo neglected, so he was fain to confess that he could not make it out. " Let me see *t," said Swankie. " What hae we here? 'The sloop is hard an an '" ("'fast,' maybe," suggested Spink.) "Ay, so 'tis. I canna make oot the next word, but here 's somethin' about the jewel-case." The man paused and gazed earnestly at the paper for a few minutes, with a look of perplexity on his rugged visage. " Weel, man, what is't?" inquired Davy. " Hoot ! I canna mak' it oot," said the other, testily, as if annoyed at being unable to read it. He refolded the paper, and thrust it into his bosom, 12 THE LIGHTHOUSE. saying, " Come, we' re wastin' time. Let 's get on wi' our wark." " Toss for the jewels and the siller," said Spink, suggestively. " Very weel," replied the other, producing a copper. " Heeds, you win the siller ; tails, I win the box ; heeds it is, so the kickshaws is mine. Weel, I 'm content," he added, as he handed the bag of gold to his comrade, and received the jewel-case in ex- change. In another hour the sea began to encroach on the rock, and the fishermen, having collected as much as time would permit of the wrecked materials, returned to their boat. They had secured altogether above two hundred- weight of old metal, namely, a large piece of a ship's caboose, a hinge, a lock of a door, a ship's marking-iron, a soldier's bayonet, a cannon ball, a shoebuckle, and a small anchor, besides part of the cordage of the wreck, and the money and jewels before mentioned. Placing the heavier of these things in the bottom of the boat, they pushed off. "We better take the corp ashore," said Spink, suddenly. "What for? They may ask what was in the pockets," objected Swankie. " Let them ask," rejoined the other, with a grin. Swankie made no reply, but gave a stroke with THE LIGHTHOUSE. 13 his oar which sent the boat close up to the rocks. They both re-landed in silence, and, lifting the dead body of the old man, laid it in the stern-sheets of the boat. Once more they pushed off. Too much delay had been already made. The surf was breaking over the ledges in all directions, and it was with the utmost difficulty that they suc- ceeded in getting clear out into deep water. A breeze which had sprung up from the east, tended to raise the sea a little, but when they finally got away from the dangerous reef, the breeze befriended them. Hoisting the foresail, they quickly left the Bell Rock far behind them, and, in the course of a couple of hours, sailed into the harbour of Arbroath. CHAPTEE II. THE LOVERS AND THE PRESS-GANG. ABOUT a mile to the eastward of the ancient to\vii of Arbroath the shore abruptly changes its character, from a flat beach to a range of, perhaps, the wildest and most picturesque cliffs on the east coast of Scotland. Inland the country is rather flat, but elevated several hundred feet above the level of the sea, towards which it slopes gently until it reaches the shore, where it terminates in abrupt, perpendicu- lar precipices, varying from a hundred to two hundred feet in height. In many places the cliffs overhang the water, and all along the coast they have been perforated and torn up by the waves, so as to present singularly bold and picturesque outlines, with caverns, inlets, and sequestered " coves " of every form and size. To the top of these cliffs, in the afternoon of the day on which our tale opens, a young girl wended her way, slowly, as if she had no other object in view than a stroll, and sadly, as if her mind were THE LIGHTHOUSE. 15 more engaged with the thoughts within than with the magnificent prospect of land and sea without. The girl was " Fair, fair, with golden hair," and apparently about twenty years of age. She sought out a quiet nook among the rocks at the top of the cliffs, near to a circular chasm, with the name of which (at that time) we are not acquainted, but which was destined ere long to acquire a new name and celebrity from an incident which shall be related in another part of this story. Curiously enough, just about the same hour, a young man was seen to wend his way to the same cliffs, and, from no reason whatever with which we happened to be acquainted, sought out the same nook! We say " he was seen," advisedly, for the maid with the golden hair saw him. Any ordinary observer would have said that she had scarcely raised her eyes from the ground since sitting down on a piece of flower-studded turf near the edge of the cliff, and that she certainly had not turned her head in the direction of the town. Yet she saw him, however absurd the statement may appear, we affirm it confidently, and knew that he was coming. Other eyes there were that also saw the youth eyes that would have caused him some degree of annoyance had he known they were upon him eyes that he would have rejoiced to tinge with the colours black and 16 THE LIGHTHOUSE. blue ! There were thirteen pair of them, belonging to twelve men and a lieutenant of the navy. In those days the barbarous custom of impress- ment into the Royal Navy was in full operation. England was at war with Trance. Men were wanted to fight our battles, and when there was any diffi- culty in getting men, press-gangs were sent out to force them into the service. The youth whom we now introduce to the reader was a sailor, a strapping, handsome one, too ; not, indeed, remark- able for height, being only a little above the average five feet, ten inches, or thereabouts but noted for great depth of chest, breadth of shoulder, and development of muscle ; conspicuous also for the quantity of close, clustering, light-brown curls round Ms head, and for the laughing glance of his dark blue eyes. Not a hero of romance, by any means. No, he was very matter of fact, and rather given to meditation than to mischief. The officer in charge of the press-gang had set his heart on this youth (so had another individual, of whom more anon !) but the youth, whose name was Ruby Brand, happened to have an old mother who was at that time in very bad health, and she had also set her heart, poor body, on the youth, and en- treated him to stay at home just for one half year. Ruby willingly consented, and from that time forward led the life of a dog in consequence of the press-gang. THE LIGHTHOUSE 1 7 Now, as we have said, he had been seen leaving the town by the lieutenant, who summoned his men and went after him cautiously, however, in order to take him by surprise, for Euby, besides being strong and active as a lion, was slippery as an eeL Going straight as an arrow to the spot where she of the golden hair was seated, the youth presented himself suddenly to her, sat down beside her, and exclaiming " Minnie," put his arm round her waist. " Oh, Euby, don't," said Minnie, blushing. Now, reader, the " don't" and the blush had no reference to the arm round the waist, but to the relative position of their noses, mouths, and chins, a position which would have been highly improper and altogether unjustifiable but for the fact that Euby was Minnie's accepted lover. "Don't, darling, why not?" said Euby in sur- prise. " You 're so rough," said Minnie, turning her head away. " True, dear, I forgot to shave this morning " " I don 't mean that," interrupted the girl quickly, " I mean rude and and is that a sea-gull ?" "No, sweetest of your sex, it's a butterfly; but it 's all the same, as my metaphysical Uncle Ogilvy would undertake to prove to you, thus, a butterfly is white and a gull is white, therefore, a gull is a butterfly." a 18 THE LIGHTHOUSE. " Don't talk nonsense, Ruby." " No more I will, darling, if you will listen to me while I talk sense. " What is it?" said the girl, looking earnestly ami somewhat anxiously into her lover's face, for she knew at once by his expression that he had some unpleasant communication to make. "You're not going away ?" " Well, no not exactly ; you know I promised to stay with mother; but the fact is that I'm so pestered and hunted down by that rascally press- gang, that I don 't know what to do. They 're sure to nab me at last, too, and then I shall have to go away whether I will or no, so I 've made up my mind as a last resource, to " Euby paused. "Well?" said Minnie. " Well, in fact to do what will take me away for a short time, but " Ruby stopped short, and, turn- ing his head on one side, while a look of fierce anger overspread his face, seemed to listen intently. Minnie did not observe this action for a few leconds, but, wondering why he paused, she looked up, and in surprise exclaimed " Ruby ! what do you " " Hush ! Minnie, and don't look round," said he in a low tone of intense anxiety, yet remaining im- movably in the position which he had assumed on first sitting down by the girl's side, although the RUBY HEARS SOUNDS THAT ANNOY HIM. PAGE 18. THE LIGHTHOUSE. 19 swelled veins of his neck and his flushed forehead told of a fierce conflict of feeling within. " It 's the press-gang after me again. I got a glance of one o* them out of the tail of my eye, creeping round the rocks. They think I haven't seen them. Darling Minnie one kiss. Take care of mother if I don't turn up soon." " But how will you escape " Hush, dearest girl ! I want to have as much of you as I can before I go. Don't be afraid. They're honest British tars after all, and won't hurt you, Minnie." Still seated at the girl's side, as if perfectly at his ease, yet speaking in quick earnest tones, and draw- ing her closely to him, Ruby waited until he heard a stealthy tread behind him. Then he sprang up with the speed of thought, uttered a laugh of defiance as the sailors rushed towards him, and leaping wildly off the cliff, fell a height of about fifty feet into the sea. Minnie uttered a scream of horror, and fell faint- ing into the arms of the bewildered lieutenant. " Down the cliffs quick ! he can't escape if you look alive. Stay, one of you, and look after this girl She '11 roll over the edge on recovering, per- haps." It was easy to order the men down the cliffs, but not so easy for them to obey, for the rockfi were 20 THE LIGHTHOUSE. almost perpendicular at the place, and descended sheer into the water. " Surround the spot," shouted the lieutenant. " Scatter yourselves away ! there 's no beach here." The lieutenant was right. The men extended themselves along the top of the cliffs so as to pre- vent Buoy's escape, in the event of his trying to ascend them, and two sailors stationed themselves in ambush in the narrow pass at the spot where the cliffs terminate in the direction of the town. The leap taken by Euby was a bold one. Few men could have ventured it ; indeed, the youth him- self would have hesitated had he not been driven almost to desperation. But he was a practised swimmer and diver, and knew well the risk he ran. He struck the water with tremendous force and sent up a great mass of foam, but he had entered it per- pendicularly, feet foremost, and in a few seconds returned to the surface so close to the cliffs that they overhung him, and thus effectually concealed him from his pursuers. Swimming cautiously along for a short distance close to the rocks, he came to the entrance of a cavern which was filled by the sea. The inner end of this cave opened into a small hollow or hole among the cliffs, up the sides of which Ruby knew that he could climb, and thus reach the top unper- ceived, but, after gaining the summit, there still lay THE LIGHTHOUSE. 21 before him the difficulty of eluding those who watched there. He felt, however, that nothing could be gained by delay, so he struck at once into the cave, swam to the inner end, and landed. Wringing the water out of his clothes, he threw off his jacket and vest in order to be as unencumbered as possible, and then began to climb cautiously. Just above the spot where Euby ascended there chanced to be stationed a seaman named Balls. This man had lain down flat on his breast, with his head close to the edge of the cliff, so as to observe narrowly all that went on below, but, being a stout, lethargic man, he soon fell fast asleep ! It was just at the spot where this man lay that Kuby reached the summit. The ascent was very difficult. At each step the hunted youth had to reach his hand as high above his head as possible, and grasp the edge of a rock or a mass of turf with great care before venturing on another step. Had one of these points of rock, or one of these tufts of grass, given way, he would infallibly have fallen down the precipice and been killed. Accustomed to this style of climb- ing from infancy, however, he advanced without a sensation of fear. On reaching the top he peeped over, and, seeing that no one was near, prepared for a rush. There was a mass of brown turf on the bank above him. He grasped it with all his force, and swung himself 22 THE LIGHTHOUSE. over the edge of the cliff. In doing so he nearly scalped poor Dalls, whose hair was the " turf" which he had seized, and who, uttering a hideous yell, leaped upon Euby and tried to overthrow him. But Dalls had met his match. He received a blow on the nose that all but felled him, and instantly after a blow on each eye, that raised a very constellation of stars in his brain, and laid him prone upon the grass. His yell, however, and the noise of the scuffle, were heard by those of the press-gang who were nearest to the scene of conflict. They rushed to the rescue, and reached the spot just as Euby leaped over his prostrate foe and fled towards Arbroath. They followed with a cheer, which warned the two men in ambush to be ready. Euby was lithe as a greyhound. He left his pursuers far behind him, and dashed down the gorge leading from the cliffs to the low ground beyond. Here he was met by the two sailors, and by the lieutenant, who had joined them. Minnie was also there, having been conducted thither by the said lieutenant, who gallantly undertook to see her safe into the town, in order to prevent any risk of her being insulted by his men. On hearing the shout of those who pursued Euby, Minnie hurried away, intending to get free from the gang, not feeling that the lieutenant's protection was either desirable 01 necessary. THE LIGHTHOUSE. 23 When Euby reached the middle of the gorge, which we have dignified with the name of " pass," and saw three men ready to dispute his passage, be increased his speed. When he was almost up to them he turned aside and sprang nimbly up the almost perpendicular wall of earth on his right This act disconcerted the men, who had prepared to receive his charge and seize him, but Euby jumped down on the shoulders of the one nearest, and crushed him to the ground with his weight. His clenched fist caught the lieutenant between the eyes and stretched him on his back the third man wisely drew aside to let this human thunderbolt pass by ! He did pass, and, as the impetuous and quite irresistible locomotive is brought to a sudden pause when the appropriate breaks are applied, so was he brought to a sudden halt by Minnie, a hundred yards or so farther on. " Oh ! don't stop," she cried eagerly, and hastily thrusting him away. " They'll catch you !" Panting though he was, vehemently, Euby could not restrain a laugh. "Catch me! no, darling; but don't be afraid or them. They won't hurt you, Minnie, and they can't hurt me except ill the way of cutting shoit our interview. Ha ! here they come. Goodbye, dearest ; I'll see you soon again." At that moment five or six of the men came 24 THE LIGHTHOUSE. rushing down the pass with a wild cheer. Euby made no haste to run. He stood in an easy attitude beside Minnie ; leisurely kissed her little hand, and gently smoothed down her golden hair. Just as the foremost pursuer came within fifteen yards or so of them, he said, " Farewell, my lassie, I leave you in good hands;" and then, waving his cap in the air, with a cheer of more than half-jocular defiance, he turned and fled towards Arbroath as if one of the nor'-east gales, in its wildest fury, were sweeping him over the land. CHAPTEE III. OUR HERO OBLIGED TO GO TO SEA. WHEN Euby Brand reached the outskirts of Arbroath, he checked his speed and walked into his native town whistling gently, and with his hands in his pockets, as though he had just returned from an evening walk. He directed his steps to one of the streets near the harbour, in which his mother's cottage was situated. Mrs. Brand was a delicate, little old woman so little and so old that people sometimes wondered how it was possible that she could be the mother of such a stalwart son. She was one of those kind, gentle, uncomplaining, and unselfish beings, who do not socure much popularity or admiration in this world, but who secure obedient children, also stead- fast and loving frienda Her favourite book was the Bible ; her favourite hope in regard to earthly matters, that men should give up fighting and drink- 26 THE LIGHTHOUSE. ing, and live in peace ; her favourite theory that the study of truth was the object for which man was created, and her favourite meal tea. Ruby was her only child. Minnie was the daughter of a distant relation, and, having been left an orphan, she was adopted by her. Mrs. Brand's husband was a sailor. He commanded a small coasting sloop, of which Euby had been the mate for several years. As we have said, Euby had been prevailed on to remain at home for some months in order to please his mother, whose delicacy of "health was such that his refusal would have injured her seriously ; at least the doctor said so, therefore Euby agreed to stay. The sloop "Penguin," commanded by Eub/s father, was on a voyage to Newcastle at that time, and was expected in Arbroath every day. But it was fated never more to cast anchor in that port. The great storm, to which reference has been made in a previous chapter, caused many wrecks on the shores of Britain. The " Penguin" was one of the many. In those days telegraphs, railroads, and penny papers did not exist. Murders were committed then, as now, but little was said, and less was known about them. Wrecks occurred then, as now, but few, except the persons immediately concerned, heard of them. " Destructive fires," " terrible acci- THE LIGHTHOUSE. 27 dents," and the familiar round of " appalling catas- trophes" occurred then, as now, but their influence was limited, and their occurrence soon forgotten. We would not be understood to mean that "now" (as compared with " then,") all is right and well ; that telegraphs and railways and daily papers are all- potent and perfect. By no means. We have still much to learn and to do in these improved times ; and, especially, there is wanting to a large extent among us a sympathetic telegraphy, so to speak, between the interior of our land and the sea-coast, which, if it existed in full and vigorous play, would go far to improve our condition, and raise us in the esteem of Christian nations. Nevertheless, as com- pared with now, the state of things then was lamentably imperfect. The great storm came and went, having swept thousands of souls into eternity and hundreds of thousands of pounds into nonentity. Lifeboats had not been invented. Harbours of refuge were almost unknown, and although our coasts bristled with dan- gerous reefs and headlands, lighthouses were few and far between. The consequence was, that wrecks were numerous ; and so also were wreckers, a class of men who, in the absence of an efficient coast- guard, subsisted to a large extent on what they picked up from the wrecks that were cast in their way, and who did not scruple, sometimes, to cause wrecks, by 28 THE LIGHTHOUSE. showing false lights in order to decoy vessels to de- struction. We do not say that all wreckers were guilty of such crimes, but many of them were so, and their style of life, at the best, had naturally a demoralizing influence upon all of them. The famous Bell Eock, lying twelve miles off the coast of Forfarshire, was a prolific source of destruc- tion to shipping. Not only did numbers of vessels get upon it, but many others ran upon the neigh- bouring coasts in attempting to avoid it. Ruby's father knew the navigation well, but, in the confusion and darkness of the furious storm, he miscalculated his position and ran upon the rock, where, as we have seen, his body was afterwards found by the two fishermen. It was conveyed by them to the cottage of Mrs. Brand, and when Euby entered he found his mother on her knees by the bed- side, pressing the cpld hand of his father to her breast, and gazing with wild, tearless eyes into the dead face. We will not dwell upon the sad scenes that fol- lowed. Ruby was now under the necessity of leaving home, because his mother being deprived of her husband's support naturally turned in distress to her son. But Ruby had no employment, and work could not be easily obtained at that time in the town, so there was no other resource left him but to go to sea. This THE LIGHTHOUSE. 29 lie did in a small coasting sloop belonging to an old friend, who gave him part of his wages in advance to enable him to leave his mother a small provision, at least, for a short time. This, however, was not all that the widow had to depend on. Minnie Gray was expert with her needle, and for some years past had contributed not a little to the comforts of the household into which she had been adopted. She now set herself to work with re- doubled zeal and energy. Besides this, Mrs. Brand had a brother, a retired skipper, who obtained the complimentary title of Captain from his friends. He was a poor man, it is true, as regarded money, having barely sufficient for his own subsistence, but he was rich in kindliness and dympathy, so that he managed to make his small iiicome perform wonders. On hear- ing of his brother-in-law's death, Captain Ogilvy hastened to afford all the consolation in his power to his sorrowing sister. The captain was an eccentric old man, of rugged aspect He thought that there was not a worse com- forter on the face of the earth than himself, because, when he saw others in distress, his heart invariably got into his throat, and absolutely prevented him from saying a single word. He tried to speak to his sister, but all he could do was to take her hand and weep. This did the poor widow more good than any words could have done, no matter how eloquently 01 30 THE LIGHTHOUSE. fitly spoken. It unlocked the fountain of her OWE heart, and the two wept together. When Captain Ogilvy accompanied Euby on board the sloop to see him off, and shook hands as he was about to return to the shore, he said " Cheer up, Ruby ; never say die so long as there's a shot in the locker. That 's the advice of an old salt, an' you'll find it sound, the more ye ponder of it. Wen a young feller sails away on the sea . life, let him always go by chart and compass, not forgettin" to take soundin's w'en cruisin' off of a bad coast. Keep a sharp look-out to wind'ard, an' mind yer helm that's my advice to you, lad, as ye go A-sailin' down life's troubled stream, All as if it wor a dream." The captain had a somewhat poetic fancy (at least he was impressed with the belief that he had), and was in the habit of enforcing his arguments by quotations from memory. When memory failed he supplemented with original composition. " Goodbye, lad, an' Providence go with ye." " Goodbye, uncle. I need not remind you to look after mother when I 'm away." " No, nephy, you needn't ; I '11 do it whether or not." " And Minnie, poor thing, she '11 need a word of advice and comfort now and then, uncle." " And she shall have it, lad," replied the captain THE LIGHTHOUSE. 31 with a tremendous wink, which was unfortunately lost on the nephew, in consequence of its being night and unusually dark, " advice and comfort on de- mand, gratis ; for ' Woman, in her hours of ease, Is most uncommon hard to please ; ' but she mutt be looked arter, ye know, an' made of, d' ye see? so Euby, boy, farewell." Half an hour before midnight was the time chosen for the sailing of the sloop " Termagant," in order that she might get away quietly and escape the press- gang. Euby and his uncle had taken the precaution to go down to the harbour just a few minutes before sailing, and they kept as carefully as possible to the darkest and least- frequented streets while passing through the town. Captain Ogilvy returned by much the same route to his sister's cottage, but did not attempt to conceal his movements. On the contrary, knowing that the sloop must have got clear of the harbour by that time, he went along the streets whistling cheerfully. He had been a noted, not to say noisy, whistler when a boy, and the habit had not forsaken him in his old age. On turning sharp round a corner, he ran against two men, one of whom swore at him, but the other cried " Hallo ! messmate, yer musical the night Hey Captain Ogilvy, surely I seed you an' Euby sliiikin 32 THE LIGHTHOUSE. down the dark side o' the market-gate half an 'oor ago?" " Mayhap ye did, an' mayhap ye didn't," retorted the captain, as he walked on ; " but as it 's none o' your business to know, I '11 not tell ye." " Ay, ay ? but ye 're a cross auld chap. Pleasant dreams t' ye." This kindly remark, which was expressed by our friend Davy Spink, was lost on the captain, in conse- quence of his having resumed his musical recreation with redoubled energy, as he went rolling back to the cottage to console Mrs. Brand, and to afford " advice and comfort gratis " to Minnie Gray. CHAPTER IV. THE BURGLARY. ON the night in question, Big Swankie and a like- minded companion, who went among his comrades by the name of the Badger, had planned to commit a burglary in the town, and it chanced that the former was about that business when Captain Ogilvy unex- pectedly ran against him and Davy Spink. Spink, although a smuggler, and by no means a particularly respectable man, had not yet sunk so low in the scale of life as to be willing td commit burglary. Swankie and the Badger sus- pected this, and, although they required his assist- ance much, they were afraid to ask him to join, lest he should not only refuse, but turn against them. In order to get over the difficulty, Swankie had arranged to suggest to him the robbery of a store containing gin, which belonged to a smuggler, and, if he agreed to that, to proceed further and suggest the more important matter in hand. But he found Spink proof against the first attack. c 34 THE LIGHTHOUSE. " I tell 'ee, I '11 hae naething to do wi't," said he when the proposal was made. "But," urged Swankie, 'he's a smuggler, and a cross-grained hound besides. It's no' like robbin' an honest man." " An' what are we but smugglers ?" retorted Spink ; "an* as to bein' cross-grained, you've naethin' to boast o' in that way. ISTa, na, Swankie, ye may do 't yersel, I '11 hae nae hand in 't. I '11 no objec' to tak a bit keg o' Auchmithie water* noo and then, or to pick up what comes to me by the wund and sea, but T '11 steal frae nae man." " Ay, man, but ye Ve turned awfu' honest all of a suddent," said the other with a sneer. " I wonder the thretty sovereigns I gied ye the other day, when we tossed for them and the case o' kickshaws, havena' brunt yer pooches." Davy Spink looked a little confused. " Aweel," said he, " it 's o' nae use greetin' ower spilt milk, the thing's done and past noo, and 1 canna help it. Sae guidnight to 'ee." Swankie, seeing that it was useless to attempt to gain over his comrade, and knowing that the Badger was waiting impatiently for him near the appointed house, hurried away without another word, and Davy Spink strolled towards his home, which was an ex- tremely dirty little hut, near the harbour. * Smuggled spirits. THE LIGHTHOUSE. 35 At the time of which we write, the town of Arbroath was neither so well lighted nor so well guarded as it now is. The two burglars found nothing to interfere with their deeds of darkness, except a few bolts and bars, which did not stand long before their expert hands. Nevertheless, they met with a check from an unexpected quarter. The house they had resolved to break into was inhabited by a widow lady, who was said to be wealthy, and who was known to possess a consider- able quantity of plate and jewels. She lived alone, having only one old servant and a little girl to attend upon her. The house stood on a piece of ground not far from the ruins of the stately abbey which originated and gave celebrity to the ancient town of Aberbrothoc. Mrs. Stewart's house was full of Eastern curiosities, some of them of great value, which had been sent to her by her son, then a major in the East India Company's service. Now, it chanced that Major Stewart had arrived from India that very day, on leave of absence, all unknown to the burglars, who, had they beeo aware of the fact, would undoubtedly have postponed their visit to a more convenient season. As it was, supposing they had to deal only with the old lady and her two servants, they began their work between twelve and one that night, with con- siderable confidence, and in great hopes of a rich booty 36 THE LIGHTHOUSE. A small garden surrounded the old house. It was guarded by a wall about eight feet high, the top of which bristled with bottle-glass. The old lady and her domestics regarded this terrible-looking defence with much satisfaction, believing in their innocence that no human creature could succeed in getting over it. Boys, however, were their only dread, and fruit their only care, when they looked complacently at the bottle-glass on the wall, and, so far, they were right in their feeling of security, for boys found the labour, risk, and danger to be greater than the worth of the apples and pears. But it was otherwise with men. Swankie and the Badger threw a piece of thick matting on the wall ; the former bent down, the latter stepped upon his back, and thence upon the mat ; then he hauled his comrade up, and both leaped into the garden. Advancing stealthily to the door, they tried it and found it locked. The windows were all care- fully bolted, and the shutters barred. This they expected, but thought it as well to try each possible point of entrance, in the hope of finding an un- guarded spot before having recourse to their tools. Such a point was soon found, in the shape of a small window, opening into a sort of scullery at the back of the house. It had been left open by accident. An entrance was easily effected by the Badger, who was a small man, and who went through the house THE LIGHTHOUSE. 37 with the silence of a cat, towards the front door. There were two lobbies, an inner and an outer, separated from each other by a glass door. Cautiously opening both doors, the Badger admitted his comrade, and then they set to work. A lantern, which could be uncovered or concealed in a moment, enabled them to see their way. "That's the dinin'-room door," whispered the Badger. " Hist ! haud yer jaw," muttered Swankie ; " I ken that as weel as you." Opening the door, they entered and found the plate-chest under the sideboard. It was open, and a grin of triumph crossed the sweet countenances of the friends as they exchanged glances, and began to put silver forks and spoons by the dozen into a bag which they had brought for the purpose. When they had emptied the plate-chest, they carried the bag into the garden, and, climbing over the wall, deposited it outside. Then they returned for more. Now, old Mrs Stewart was an invalid, and was in the habit of taking a little weak wine and water before retiring to rest at night. It chanced that the bottle containing the port wine had been left on the sideboard, a fact which was soon discovered by Swankie, who put the bottle to his mouth, and took a long pull 38 THE LIGHTHOUSE. " What is't?" inquired the Badger, in a low tone. " Prime!" replied Swankie, handing over the bottle, and wiping his mouth with the cuff of his coat. The Badger put the bottle to his mouth, but un- fortunately for him, part of the liquid went down the " wrong throat." The result was that the poor man coughed, once, rather loudly. Swankie, frowning fiercely, and shaking his fist, looked at him in horror ; and well he might, for the Badger became first red and then purple in the face, and seemed a's if he were about to burst with his efforts to keep down the cough. It came, however, three times, in spite of him, not violently, but with sufficient noise to alarm them, and cause them to listen for five minutes intently ere they ventured to go on with their work, in the belief that no one had been disturbed. But Major Stewart had been awakened by the first cough. He was a soldier who had seen much service, and who slept lightly. He raised himself in his bed, and listened intently on hearing the first cough. The second cough caused him to spring up and pull on his trousers ; the third cough found him half-way down stairs, with a boot-jack in his hand, and when the burglars resumed work he was peeping at them through the half-open door. Both men were stooping over the plate- chest, the Badger with his back to the door, Swankie with his head towards it. The Major raised the boot-jack THE LIGHTHOUSE. 39 and took aim. At the same moment the door squeaked, Big Swankie looked up hastily, and, in technical phraseology, " doused the glim." All was dark in an instant, but the boot-jack sped on its way notwithstanding. The burglars were accus- tomed to fighting, however, and dipped their heads. The boot-jack whizzed past, and smashed the pier- glass on the mantel-piece to a thousand atoms. Major Stewart being expert in all the devices of warfare, knew what to expect, and drew aside. He was not a moment too soon, for the dark lantern flew through the doorway, hit the opposite wall, and fell with a loud clatter on the stone floor of the lobby. The Badger followed at once, and received a random blow from the major that hurled him he"Ml over heels after the lantern. There was no mistaking the heavy tread and rush of Big Swankie as he made for the door. Major Stewart put out his foot, and the burglar naturally tripped over it ; before he could rise the major had him by the throat. There was a long, fierce struggle, both being powerful men ; at last Swankie was hurled completely through the glass door. In the fall he disengaged himself from the major, and, leaping up, made for the garden wall, over which he succeeded in clambering before the latter could seize him. Thus both burglars escaped, and Major Stewart returned to the house half -naked, his shirt having been ton? 40 THE LIGHTHOUSE. off his back, and bleeding freely from cuts caused by the glass door. Just as he re-entered the house, the old cook, under the impression that the cat had got into the pantry and was smashing the crockery, entered the lobby in her night-dress, shrieked " Mercy on us ! " on beholding the major, and fainted dead away. Major Stewart was too much annoyed at having failed to capture the burglars to take any notice of her. He relocked the door, and assuring his mother that it was only robbers, and that they had been beaten off, retired to his room, washed and dressed his wounds, and went to bed. Meanwhile Big Swankie and the Badger, laden with silver, made for the shore, where they hid their treasure in a hole. " I '11 tell 'ee a dodge," said the Badgoa'. " What may that be ? " inquired Swankie. " You said ye saw Kuby Brand slinking down the market-gate, and that he 's off to sea ? " " Ay, and twa or three more folk saw him as weel as me." " Weel, let's tak' up a siller spoon, or somethin', an' put it in the auld wife's garden, an' they '11 think it was him that did it." " No' that bad !" said Swankie, with a chuckle. A silver fork and a pair of sugar-tongs bearing old Mrs. Stewart's initials were accordingly selected for THE LIGHTHOUSE. 41 this purpose, and placed in the little garden in the front of Widow Brand's cottage. Here they were found in the morning by Captain Ogilvy, who examined them for at least half-an-hour in a state of the utmost perplexity. While he was thus engaged one of the detectives of the town happened to pass, apparently in some haste. " Hallo ! shipmate," shouted the captain. " Well ? " responded the detective. " Did ye ever see silver forks an' sugar- tongs growin' in a garden before ? " " Eh ? " exclaimed the other, entering the garden hastily ; " let me see. Oho ! this may throw some light on the matter. Did you find them here ? " " Ay, on this very spot." " Hum. Euby went away last night, I believe ? " " He did" " Some time after midnight ? " inquired the detec- tive. " Likely enough," said the captain, " but my chronometer ain't quite so reg'lar since we left the sea ; it might ha' bin more, mayhap less." " Just so. You saw him off ? " " Ay ; but you seem more than or'nar inquisitive to-day " " Did he carry a bundle ? " interrupted the detec- tive. " Ay, no doubt" 42 THE LIGHTHOUSE. " Alaige one?" " Ay, a goodisli big 'un. B " Do you know what was in it ? * inquired the detective, with a knowing look. " I do, for I packed it," replied the captain ; " his kit was in it." "Nothing more?" " Nothin' as I knows of" " Well, I '11 take these with me just now," said the officer, placing the fork and sugar-tongs in his pocket. " I 'm afraid, old man, that your nephew has been up to mischief before he went away. A burglary was committed in the town last night, and this is some of the plate. You '11 hear more about it before long, I daresay. Good- day to ye." So saying, the detective walked quickly away, and left the captain in the centre of the garden staring vacantly before him, in speechless amazement. CHAPTER V. THE BLL BOCK INVADED. A YEAR passed away. Nothing more was heard of Buby Brand, and the burglary was believed to be one of those mysteries which are destined never to be solved. About this time great attention was being given by Government to the subject of lighthouses. The terrible number of wrecks that had taken place had made a deep impression on the public mind. The position and dangerous character of the Bell Eock, in particular, had been for a long time the subject of much discussion, and various unsuccessful attempts had been made to erect a beacon of some sort thereon. There is a legend that in days of old one of the abbots of the neighbouring monastery of Aberbrothoc erected a bell on the Inchcape rock, which was tolled in rough weather by the action of the waves on a float attached to the tongue, and thus mariners were warned at night and in foggy weather of their approach to the rock, the great danger of which consists in ita 44 THE LIGHTHOUSE. being a sunken reef, lying twelve miles from the nearest land, and exactly in the course of vessels making for the firths of Forth and Tay. The legend further tells how that a Danish pirate, named Ealph the Eover, in a mischievous mood, cut the bell away, and that, years afterwards, he obtained his appropriate reward by being wrecked on the Bell Eock, when returning from a long cruise laden with booty. Whether this be true or not is an open question, but certain it is that no beacon of any kind was erected on this rock until the beginning of the present century, when a great storm in 1799 stirred up the public mind, and set springs in motion, which from that time forward have never ceased to operate. Many and disastrous were the shipwrecks that occurred during the storm referred to, which con- tinued, with 1/ttle intermission, for three days. Great numbers of ships were driven from their moorings in the Downs and Yarmouth Eoads ; and these, together with all vessels navigating the Ger- man Ocean at that time, were drifted upon the east coast of Scotland. It may not, perhaps, be generally known that there are only three great inlets or estuaries to which the mariner steers when overtaken by easterly storms in the North Sea namely, the Humber, and the firths of Forth and Moray. The mouth of the Thames is too much encumbered by sandbanks to THE LIGHTHOUSE. 45 be approached at night or during bad weather. The Humber is also considerably obstructed in this way, so that the Eoads of Leith, in the Firth of Forth, and those of Cromarty, in the Moray Firth, are the chief places of resort in easterly gales. But both of these had their special risks. On the one hand, there was the danger of mis- taking the Dornoch Firth for the Moray, as it lies only a short way to the north of the latter ; and, in the case of the Firth of Forth, there was the terrible Bell Rock. Now, during the storm of which we write, the fear of those two dangers was so strong upon sea- men that many vessels were lost in trying to avoid them, and much hardship was sustained by mariners who preferred to seek shelter in higher latitudes. It was estimated that no fewer than seventy vessels were either stranded or lost during that single gale, and many of the crews perished. At one wild part of the coast, near Peterhead, called the Bullers of Buchan, after the first night of the storm, the wrecks of seven vessels were found in one cove, without a single survivor of the crews to give an account of the disaster. The " dangers of the deep" are nothing compared with the dangers of the shore. If the hard rocks of our island could tell the tale of their experience, and if we landsmen could properly appreciate it, we 46 THE LIGHTHOUSE. should understand more clearly why it is that sailors love blue (in other words, deep) water during stormy weather. In order to render the Forth more accessible by removing the danger of the Bell Eock, it was resolved by the Commissioners of Northern Lights to build a lighthouse upon it. This resolve was a much bolder one than most? people suppose, for the rock on which the lighthouse was to be erected was a sunken reef, visible only at low tide during two or three hours, and quite inaccessible in bad weather. It was the nearest approach to building a house in the sea that had yet been attempted ! The famous Eddystone stands on a rock which is never quite under water, although nearly so, for its crest rises a very little above the highest tides, while the Bell Rock is eight or ten feet under water at high tides. It must be clear, therefore, to every one, that difficulties, unusual in magnitude and peculiar in kind, must have stood in the way of the daring engineer who should undertake the erection of a tower on a rock twelve miles out on the stormy sea, and the foundation of which was covered with ten or twelve feet of water every tide ; a tower which would have to be built perfectly, yet hastily ; a tower which should form a comfortable home, fit for human beings to dwell in, and yet strong enough to with- stand the utmost fury of the waves, not merely THE LIGHTHOUSE. 47 whirling round it, as might be the case on some exposed promontory, but rushing at it, straight and fierce from the wild ocean, in great blue solid billows that should burst in thunder on its sides, and rush up in scarcely less solid spray to its lantern, a hundred feet or more above its foundation. An engineer able and willing to undertake this great work was found in the person of the late Robert Stevenson of Edinburgh, whose perseverance and talent shall be commemorated by the grandest and most useful monument ever raised by man, as long as the Bell Rock lighthouse shall tower above the sea. It is not our purpose to go into the details of all that was done in the construction of this lighthouse. Our peculiar task shall be to relate those incidents connected with this work which have relation to the actors in our tale. We will not, therefore, detain the reader by telling him of all the preliminary difficulties that were en- countered and overcome in this "Robinson Crusoe" sort of work ; how that a temporary floating light- ship, named the " Pharos," was prepared and anchored in the vicinity of the rock in order to be a sort of depot and rendezvous and guide to the three smaller vessels employed in the work, as well as a light to shipping generally ; and a building yard was established at Arbroath, where every single 48 THE LIGHTHOUSE. stone of the lighthouse was cut and nicely fitted before being conveyed to the rock. Neither shall we tell of the difficulties that arose in the matter of getting blocks of granite large enough for such masonry, and lime of a nature strong enough to withstand the action of the salt sea. All this, and and a great deal more of a deeply interesting nature, must remain untold, and be left entirely to the reader's imagination.* Suffice it to say that the work was fairly begun in the month of August 1807 ; that a strong beacon of timber was built, which was so well constructed that it stood out all the storms that beat against it during the whole time of the building operations ; that close to this beacon the pit or foundation of the lighthouse was cut down deep into the solid rock; that the men employed could work only between two and three hours at a time, and had to pump the water out of this pit each tide before they could resume opera- tions ; that the work could only be done in the sum- mer months, and when engaged in it the men dwelt either in the " Pharos" floating light, or in one of the attending vessels, and were not allowed to go ashore that is, to the mainland, about twelve miles distant ; that the work was hard, but so novel and exciting that the artificers at last became quite en- It may be found, however, in minute detail, in the large and in- teresting work entitled, " Stevenson's Bell Rock Lighthouse." THE LIGHTHOUSE. 49 amoured of it, and that ere long operations were going busily forward, and the work was in a pros- perous and satisfactory state of advancement Things were in this condition at the Bell Kock, when, one fine summer evening, our friend and hero, Euby Brand, returned, after a long absence, to his native town. CHAPTER VI. THE CAPTAIN CHANGES HIS QUABTEKS. IT was fortunate for Ruby that the skipper of the vessel ordered him to remain in charge while he went ashore, because he would certainly have been recognised by numerous friends, and his arrival would speedily have reached the ears of the officers of justice, who seem to be a class of men specially gifted with the faculty of never forgetting. It was not until darkness had begun to settle down on the town that the skipper returned on board, and gave aim leave to go ashore. Ruby did not return in the little coaster in which he had left his native place. That vessel had been wrecked not long after he joined her, but the crew were saved, and Ruby succeeded in obtaining a berth as second mate of a large ship trading between Hull and the Baltic. Returning from one of his voyages with a pretty good sum of money in his pocket, he resolved to visit his mother and give it to her. He therefore went aboard an Arbroath THE LIGHTHOUSE. 51 schooner, and offered to work his passage as an extra hand. Eemembering his former troubles in connexion with the press-gang, he resolved to con- ceal his name from the captain and crew, who chanced to be all strangers to him. It must not be supposed that Mrs. Brand had not heard of Ruby since he left her. On the contrary, both she and Minnie Gray got letters as frequently as the postal arrangements of those days would admit of; and from time to time they received remittances of money, which enabled them to live in comparative comfort. It happened, however, that the last of these remittances had been lost, so that Mrs. Brand had to depend for subsistence on Minnie's exertions, and on her brother's liberality. The brother's power was limited, however, and Minnie had been ailing for some time past, in con- sequence of her close application to work, so that she could not earn as much as usual Hence it fell out that at this particular time the widow found herself in greater pecuniary difficulties than she had ever been in before. Ruby was somewhat of an original It is pro- bable that every hero is. He resolved to surprise his mother by pouring the money he had brought into her lap, and for this purpose had, while in Hull, converted all his savings into copper, silver, and gold. Those precious metftls he stowed sepa- 52 THE LIGHTHOUSE. rately into the pockets of his huge pea-jacket, and, thus heavily laden, went ashore about dark, as soon as the skipper returned. At this precise hour it happened that Mrs. Brand, Minnie Gray, and Captain Ogilvy were seated at their supper in the kitchen of the cottage. Two days previously the captain had called, and said to Mrs. Brand " I tell 'ee what it is, sister, I'm tired of livin' a solitary bachelor life, all by myself, so I'm goin' to make a change, lass." Mrs. Brand was for some moments speechless, and Minnie, who was sewing near the window, dropped her hands and work on her lap, and looked up with inexpressible amazement beaming in her sweet blue eyes. " Brother," said Mrs. Brand earnestly, " you don't mean to tell me that you 're going to marry at yaw time of life ?" "Eh! what? Marry?" The captain looked, if possible, more amazed than his sister for a second or two, then his red face relaxed into a broad grin, and he sat down on a chair and chuckled, wiping the perspiration (he seemed always more or less in a state of perspira- tion) from his bald head the while. " Why, no, sister, I'm not going to marry ; did I speak of marryin' ?" THE LIGHTHOUSE. 53 ' No ; but you spoke of being tired of a bachelor life, and wishing to change." " Ah ! you women," said the captain, shaking his head " always suspectin' that we poor men are wantin' to marry you. Well, pr'aps you ain't far wrong neither; but I'm not goin' to be spliced yet- a- while, lass. Marry, indeed ! ' Shall I, wastin' in despair, Die, 'cause why ? a woman 's rare ? ' " " Oh ! Captain Ogilvy, that's not rightly quoted," cried Minnie, with a merry laugh. " Ain't it?" said the captain, somewhat put out ; for he did not like to have his powers of memory doubted. " No ; surely women are not rare" said Minnie. " Good ones are," said the captain stoutly. " Well ; but that 's not the right word." " What is the right word, then T asked the captain with affected sternness, for, although by nature dis- inclined to admit that he could be wrong, he had no objection to be put right by Minnie. "Die because a woman's f ," said Minnie, prompting him. " F , ' funny ? ' " guessed the captain. " No ; it's not ' funny,' " cried Minnie, laughing heartily. " Of course not," assented the captain, " it could not be 'funny' nohow, because 'funny' don't rhyme 54 THE LIGHTHOUSE. with ' despair ;' besides, lots o' women ain't funny a bit, an' if they was, that's no reason why a man should die for 'em ; what is the word, lass ? " "What am I?" asked Minnie, with an arch smile, as she passed her fingers through the clus- tering masses of her beautiful hair. "An angel, beyond all doubt," said the gallant captain, with a burst of sincerity which caused Minnie to blush and then to laugh. "You're incorrigible, captain, and you are so stupid that it 's of no use trying to teach you." Mrs. Brand who listened to this conversation with an expression of deep anxiety on her meek face, for she could not get rid of her first idea that her brother was going to marry here broke in with the question, " When is it to be, brother ? " " When is what to be, sister ? " " The the marriage." " I tell you I ain't a-goin' to marry," repeated the captain ; " though why a stout young feller like me, just turned sixty-four, shouldn't marry, is more than I can see. You know the old proverbs, lass ' It '& never too late to marry ; ' Never ventur', never give in ; ' ' John Anderson my jo John, when we was first first ' " " Married," suggested Minnie. " Just so," responded the captain, " and everybody THE LIGHTHOUSE. 56 knows that he was an old man. But no, I 'm not goin' to many ; I 'm only goin' to give up my house, sell off the furniture, and come and live with you" " live with me ! " ejaculated Mrs. Brand. " Ay, an' why not ? What's the use o' goin' to the expense of two houses when one '11 do, an' when we're both raither scrimp o' the ready? You'll just let me have the parlour. It never was a comf'rable room to sit in, so it don't matter much your givin' it up ; it's a good enough sleepin' and smokin' cabin, an' we'll all live together in the kitchen. Ill throw the whole o' my tree- mendous income into the general purse, always exceptin' a few odd coppers, which 1 11 retain to keep me a-goin' in baccy. We 11 sail under the same flag, an' sit round the same fire, an' sup at the same table, an' sleep in the same no, not exactly that, but under the same roof -tree, which 11 be a more hoconomical way o' doin' business, you know ; an' so, old girl, as the song says ' Come an' let via be happy together, For where there 's a will there 'a a way, An" we won't care a rap for the weather So long as there's nothin' to pay.' " " Would it not be better to say, ' so long as there 's something to pay ? ' " suggested Minnia " No, lass, it lowldn't " retorted the captain 56 THE LIGHTHOUSE. " You 're too fond of improvin' things. I 'm a stanch old Tory, I am. 111 stick to the old flag till all 'a blue. None o' your changes or improve- ments for me." This was a rather bold statement for a man to make who improved upon almost every line he ever quoted ; but the reader is no doubt acquainted with parallel instances of inconsistency in good men even in the present day. " Now, sister," continued Captain Ogilvy, " what d' ye think of my plan ? " " I like it well, brother," replied Mrs. Brand with a gentle smile. " Will you come soon ? " "To-morrow, about eight bells," answered the captain promptly. This was all that was said on the subject. The thing was, as the captain said, settled off-hand, and accordingly next morning he conveyed such of his worldly goods as he meant to retain possession of to his sister's cottage " the new ship," as he styled it He carried his traps on his own broad shoulders, and the conveyance of them cost him three distinct trips. They consisted of a huge sea-chest, an old tele- scope more than a yard long, and cased in leather ; a quadrant, a hammock, with the bedding rolled up in it, a tobacco-box, the enormous old Family Bible, in which the names of his father, mother, brothers, and sisters were recorded ; and a brown teapot with THE LIGHTHOUSE. 57 half a lid This latter had belonged to the captain's mother, and, being fond of it, as it reminded him of the " old ooman," he was wont to mi* his grog in it, and drink the same out of a teacup, the handle of which was gone, and the saucer of which was among the things of the past Notwithstanding his avowed adherence to Tory principles, Captain Ogilvy proceeded to make mani- fold radical changes and surprising improvements in the little parlour, insomuch that when he had completed the task, and led his sister carefully (for she was very feeble) to look at what he had done, she became quite incapable of expressing herself in ordinary language ; positively refused to believe her eyes, and never again entered that room, but always spoke of what she had seen as a curious dream ! No one was ever able to discover whether there was not a slight tinge of underlying jocularity in this remark of Mrs. Brand, for she was a strange and incomprehensible mixture of shrewdness and innocence ; but no one took much trouble to find out, for she was so loveable that people accepted her just as she was, contented to let any small amount of mystery that seemed to be in her to remain unquestioned " The parlour" was one of those well-known rooms which are occasionally met with in country cottages, 58 THE LIGHTHOUSE. the inmates of which are not wealthy. It was reserved exclusively for the purpose of receiving visitors. The furniture, though old, threadbare, and dilapidated, was kept scrupulously clean, and arranged symmetrically. There were a few books on the table, which were always placed with mathe- matical exactitude, and a set of chairs, so placed as to give one mysteriously the impression that they were not meant to be sat upon. There was also a grate, which never had a fire in it, and was never without a paper ornament in it, the pink and white aspect of which caused one involuntarily to shudder. But the great point, which was meant to afford the highest gratification to the beholder, was the chimney-piece. This spot was crowded to excess in every square inch of its area with ornaments, chiefly of earthenware, miscalled china, and shells. There were great white shells with pink interiors, and small brown shells with spotted backs. Then there were china cups and saucers, and china shepherds and shepherdesses, represented in the act of contemplating the heavens serenely, with their arms round each other's waists. There were also china dogs and cats, and a huge china cockatoo as a centre-piece ; but there was not a single spot the size of a sixpence on which the captain could place his pipe or his tobacco-box 1 "Well get these things cleared away," said THE LIGHTHOUSE. Minnie, with a laugh, on observing the perplexed look with which the captain surveyed the chimney- piece, while the changes above referred to were being made in the parlour ; " we have no place ready to receive them just now, but I '11 have them all put away to -morrow." " Thank'ee, lass," said the captain, as he set down the sea-chest and seated himself thereon ; " they 're pretty enough to look at, d'ye see, but they're raither in the way just now, as my second mate once said of the rocks when we were cruising off the coast of Norway in search of a pilot." The ornaments were, however, removed sooner than any one had anticipated The next trip that the captain made was for his hammock (he always slept in one), which was a long unwieldy bundle, like a gigantic bolster. He carried it into the par- lour on his shoulder, and Minnie followed him. " Where shall I sling it, lass ?" " Here, perhaps/' said Minnie. The captain wheeled round as she spoke, and the end of the hammock swept the mantelpiece of all its ornaments, as completely as if the besom of destruction had passed over it. " Shiver my timbers !" gasped the captain, awe- struck by the hideous crash that followed. " You 've shivered the ornaments at anyrate," said Minnie, half-laughing and half-crying. 60 THE LIGHTHOUSE. " So I have, but no matter. Never say die so long 's there a shot in the locker. There 's as good fish in the sea as ever come out of it ; so bear a hand, my girl, and help me to sling up the hammock" The hammock was slung, the pipe of peace was smoked, and thus Captain Ogilvy was fairly installed in his sister's cottage. It may, perhaps, be necessary to remind the reader that all this is a long digression; that the events just narrated occurred a few days before the return of Euby, and that they have been recorded here in order to explain clearly the reason of the captain's appearance at the supper-table of his sister, and the position which he occupied in the family. When Euby reached the gate of the small garden, Minnie had gone to the captain's room to see that it was properly prepared for his reception, and the captain himself was smoking his pipe close to the chimney, so that the smoke should ascend it The first glance through the window assured the youth that his mother was, as letters had represented her, much better in health than she used to be. She looked so quiet and peaceful, and so fragile withal, that Euby did not dare to "surprise her" by a sudden entrance, as he had originally intended, so he tapped gently at the window, and drew back. The captain laid down his pipe and went to the door. THE LIGHTHOUSE. 61 * What, Euby !" he exclaimed, in a hoarse whisper. " Hush, uncle ! How is Minnie ; where is she ?" " I think, lad," replied the captain in a tone of reproof, "that you might have inquired for your mother first" " No need," said Euby, pointing to the window ; "I see that she is there and well, thanks be to God for that : but Minnie ?" " She 's well too, boy, and in the house. But come, get inside. 1 11 explain, after." This promise to " explain" was given in conse- quence of the great anxiety he, the captain, dis- played to drag Kuby into the cottage. The youth did not require much pressing, how- ever. He no sooner heard that Minnie was well, than he sprang in, and was quickly at his mother's feet. Almost as quickly a fair vision appeared in the doorway of the inner room, and was clasped in the young sailor's arms with the most thorough dis- regard of appearances, not to mention propriety. While this scene was enacting, the worthy cap- tain was engaged in active proceedings, which at once amused and astonished his nephew, and the nature and cause of which shall be revealed in the next chapter CHAPTER VII. RUBY IN DIFFICULTIES. HAVING thrust his nephew into the cottage, Cap- tain Ogilvy's first proceeding was to close the outer shutter of the window and fasten it securely on the inside. Then he locked, bolted, barred, and chained the outer door, after which he shut the kitchen door, and, in default of any other mode of securing it, placed against it a heavy table as a barri- cade. Having thus secured the premises in front, he proceed to fortify the rear, and, when this was ac- complished to his satisfaction, he returned to the kitchen, sat down opposite the widow, and wiped his shining pate. " Why, uncle, are we going to stand out a siege, that you take so much pains to lock up ?" Ruby sat down on the floor at his mother's feet as he spoke, and Minnie sat down on a low stool beside him THE LIGHTHOUSE. 63 " Mayhap we are, lad," replied the captain ; " anyhow, it 'a always well to be ready ' Ready, boys, ready, We '11 fight and we '11 conquer again and again.' " " Come, uncle, explain yourself." " Explain myself, nephy ? I can neither explain myself nor anybody else. D' ye know, Ruby, that you 're a burglar ?" " Am I, uncle ? Well, I confess that that 's news." "Ay, but it's true though, at least the law in Arbroath says so, and if it catches you, it '11 hang you as sure as a gun." Here Captain Ogilvy explained to his nephew the nature of the crime that was committed on the night of his departure, the evidence of his guilt in the finding part of the plate in the garden, coupled with his sudden disappearance, and wound up by saying that he regarded him, Ruby, as being in a " reg'lar fix." " But surely," said Ruby, whose face became gradually graver as the case was unfolded to him, " surely it must be easy to prove to the satisfaction of every one that I had nothing whatever to do with this affair?" " Easy to prove it !" said the captain in an excited tone ; " wasn't you seen, just about the hour of the robbery, going stealthily down the street, by Big 64 THE LIGHTHOUSE. Swankie and Davy Spink, both of whom will swear to it?" " Yes, but you were with me, uncle." " Ay, so I was, and hard enough work I had to convince them I had nothin' to do with it myself, but they saw that I couldn't jump a stone wall eight foot high to save my life, much less break into a house, and they got no further evidence to convict me, so they let me off ; but it '11 go hard with you, nephy, for Major Stewart described the men, and one o' them was a big strong feller, the description bein' as like you as two peas, only their faces was blackened, and the lantern threw the light all one way, so he didn't see them well Then, the things found in our garden, and the villains will haul me up as a witness against you, for, didn't I find them myself?" " Very perplexing ; what shall I do ? " said Ruby. " Clear out," cried the captain emphatically. " What ! fly like a real criminal, just as I have returned home ? Never ! Wh>t say you, Minnie ?" " Stand your trial, Euby. They cannot they dare not condemn the innocent." " And you, mother ?" " I'm sure I don't know what to say," replied Mrs. Brand, with a look of deep anxiety, as she passed her fingers through her son's hair, and kissed his THE LIGHTHOUSE. 65 brow. " I have seen the innocent condemned and the guilty go free more than once in my life." " Nevertheless, mother, I will give myself up, and take my chance. To fly would be to give thejui reason to believe me guilty." " Give yourself up !" exclaimed the captain, " you'll do nothing of the sort. Come, lad, remember I'm an old man, and an uncle. I 've got a plan in my head, which I think will keep you out of harm's way for a time. You see my old chronometer is but a poor one, the worse of the wear, like its master, and I Ve never been able to make out the exact time that we went aboard the ' Termagant ' the night you went away. Now, can you tell me what o'clock it was ?" " I can." " 'Xactly ?" " Yes, exactly, for it happened that I was a little later than I promised, and the skipper pointed to his watch, as I came up the side, and jocularly shook his head at me. It was exactly eleven P.M." " Sure and sartin o' that ?" inquired the captain, earnestly. " Quite, and his watch must have been right, for the town-clock rung the hour at the same time." " Is that skipper alive ?" -'Yes." E 66 THE LIGHTHOUSE. " Would he swear to that ?" " I think he would." " D' ye know where he is ? " "I do. He's on a voyage to the West Indies, and won't be home for two months, I believe." " Humph !" said the captain, with a disappointed look. " However, it can't be helped ; but I see my way now to get you out o' this fix. You know, 1 suppose, that they're buildin' a lighthouse on the Bell Eock just now ; well, the workmen go off to it for a month at a time, I believe, if not longer, and don't come ashore, and it 's such a dangerous place, and troublesome to get to, that nobody almost ever goes out to it from this place, except those who have to do with it. Now, lad, you'll go down to the workyard the first thing in the mornin', before day- light, and engage to go off to work at the Bell Eock. You '11 keep all snug and quiet, and nobody '11 be a bit the wiser. You '11 be earnin' good wages, and in the meantime I '11 set about gettin' things in trim to put you all square." " But I see many difficulties ahead," objected Euby. " Of course ye do," retorted the captain. " Did ye ever hear or see anything on this earth that hadn't rocks ahead o' some sort ? It 's our business to steer past 'em, lad, not to 'bout ship and steer away. But state yer difficulties." THE LIGHTHOUSE, 67 " Well, in the first place, I'm not a stonemason or a carpenter, and I suppose masons and carpenters are the men most wanted there." " Not at all, blacksmiths are wanted there," said the captain, " and I know that you were trained to that work as a boy." " True, I can do somewhat with the hammer, but mayhap they won't engage me." " But they will engage you, lad, for they are hard up for an assistant-blacksmith just now, and I happen to be hand-and-glove with some o' the chief men of the yard, who '11 be happy to take any one recommended by me." " Well, uncle, but suppose I do go off to the rock, what chance have you of making things appear better than they are at present?" " I '11 explain that, lad. In the first place, Major Stewart is a gentleman, out-and-out, and will listen to the truth. He swears that the robbery took place at one o'clock in the mornin', for he looked at his watch and at the clock of the house, and heard it ring in the town, just as the thieves cleared off over the wall Now, if I can get your old skipper to take a run here on his return from the West Indies, he '11 swear that you was sailin' out to the North Sea before twelve, and that '11 prove that you couldn't have had nothin' to do with it, d' ye see ?" " It sounds well," said Ruby dubiously, " kut do 68 THE LIGHTHOUSE. yon think the lawyers will see things in the light you do ?" " Hang the lawyers ! d' ye think they will shut their eyes to the truth ?" " Perhaps they may, in which case they will hang me, and so prevent my taking your advice to hang tJwm," said Euby. " Well, well, but you agree to my plan ?" asked the captain. " Shall I agree, Minnie ? it will separate me from you again for some time." " Yet it is necessary," answered Minnie, sadly ; " yes, I think you should agree to go." "Very well, then, that's settled," said Euby, " and now let us drop the subject, because I have other things to speak of; and if I must start before daylight, my time with you will be short " Come here a bit, nephy, I want to have a private word with 'ee in my cabin," said the captain, inter- rupting him, and going into his own room. Euby rose and followed. " You haven't any " The captain stopped, stroked his bald head, and looked perplexed. " Well, uncle ?" " Well, nephy, you haven't in short, have ye got any money about you, lad?" " Money ? yes, a little ; but why do you ask ?" THE LIGHTHOUSE. 69 " Well, the fact is, that your poor mother is hard up just now," said the captain earnestly, " an' I Ve given her the last penny I have o' my own ; but she 's quite " Ruby interrupted his uncle at this point with a boisterous laugh. At the same time he flung open the door and dragged the old man with gentle violence back to the kitchen. " Come here, uncle." " But, avast ! nephy, I haven't told ye all yet." " Oh ! don't bother me with such trifles just now," cried Ruby, thrusting his uncle into a chair and resuming his own seat i,t his mother's side ; " we '11 speak of that at some other time ; meanwhile let me talk to mother." " Minnie, dear," he continued, " who keeps the cash here ; you or mother ?" " Well, we keep it between us," said Minnie, smiling ; " your mother keeps it in her drawer and gives me the key when I want any, and I keep an account of it." " Ah ! well, mother, I have a favour to ask of you before I go." "Well, Ruby?" " It is that you will take care of my cash for me. I have got a goodish lot of it, and find it rathei heavy to carry in my pockets so, hold your apron steady and I '11 give it to you." 70 THE LIGHTHOUSE. Saying this he began to empty handful after handful of coppers into the old woman s apron; then, remarking that " that was all the browns," he began to place handful after handful of shillings and sixpences on the top of the pile until the copper was hid by silver. The old lady, as usual when surprised, became speechless ; the captain smiled and Minnie laughed, but when Euby put his hand into another pocket and began to draw forth golden sovereigns, and pour them into his mother's lap, the captain became supremely amazed, the old woman laughed, and, so strangely contradictory and unaccountable is human nature, Minnie began to cry. Poor girl! the tax upon her strength had been heavier than any one knew, heavier than she could bear, and the sorrow of knowing, as she had come to know, that it was all in vain, and that her utmost efforts had failed to " keep the wolf from the door," had almost broken her down. Little wonder, then, that the sight of sudden and ample relief upset her altogether. But her tears, being tears of joy, were soon and easily dried all the more easily that it was Euby who undertook to dry them. Mrs. Brand sat up late that night, for there was much to tell and much to hear. After she had retired to rest the other three continued to hold THE LIGHTHOUSE. 71 converse together until gray dawn began to appear through the Chinks in the window- shutters. Then the two men rose and went out, while Minnie laid her pretty little head on the pillow beside Mru. Brand, and sought, and found, CHAPTEK VIII. THE SCENE CHANGES BURY IS VULCANIZED. As Captain Ogilvy had predicted, Euby was at once engaged as an assistant-blacksmith on the Bell Rock. In fact, they were only too glad to get such a powerful, active young fellow into their service ; and he was shipped off with all speed in the sloop " Smeaton," with a few others who were going to replace some men who had become ill and were obliged to leave. A light westerly breeze was blowing when they cast off the moorings of the sloop. "Goodbye, Ruby," said the captain, as he was about to step on the pier. " Remember your pro- mise, lad, to keep quiet, and don't try to get ashore, or to hold communication with any one till you hear from me." " All right, uncle, I won't forget, and I '11 make my mind easy, for I know that my case is left in good hands." Three hours elapsed ere the " Smeaton" drew THE LIGHTHOUSE. 73 near to the Bell Rock. During this time, Euby kept aloof from his fellow- workmen, feeling disposed to indulge the sad thoughts which filled his mind. He sat down on the bulwarks, close to the main shrouds, and gazed back at the town as it became gradually less and less visible in the faint light of morning. Then he began to ponder his unfortu- nate circumstances, and tried to imagine how his uncle would set about clearing up his character and establishing his innocence ; but, do what he would, Ruby could not keep his mind fixed for any length of time en any subject or line of thought, because of a vision of sweetness which it is useless to attempt to describe, and which was always accompanied by, and surrounded with, a golden halo. At last the youth gave up the attempt to fix his thoughts, and allowed them to wander as they chose, seeing that they were resolved to do so whether he would or no. The moment these thoughts had the reins flung on their necks, and were allowed to go where they pleased, they refused, owing to some unaccountable species of perversity, to wander at all, but at once settled themselves comfortably down beside the vision with golden hair, and remained there. This agreeable state of things was rudely broken in upon by the hoarse voice of the mate shouting " Stand by to let go the anchor." Then Ruby sprang on the deck and shook himself 74 THE LIGHTHOUSE. like a great mastiff, and resolved to devote himself heart and soul, from that moment, to the work in which he was about to engage. The scene that presented itself to our hero when he woke up from his dreams would have interested and excited a much less enthusiastic temperament than his. The breeze had died away altogether, just as if, having wafted the " Smeaton " to her anchorage, there were no further occasion for its services. The sea was therefore quite calm, and as there had only been light westerly winds for some time past, there was little or none of the swell that usually undulates the sea. One result of this was, that, being high water when the " Smeaton " arrived, there was no sign whatever of the presence of the famous Bell Bock. It lay sleeping nearly two fathoms below the sea, like a grim giant in repose, and not a ripple was there to tell of the presence of the mariner's enemy. The sun was rising, and its slanting beams fell on the hulls of the vessels engaged in the service, which lay at anchor a short distance from each other. These vessels, as we have said, were four in number, including the " Smeaton." The others were the " Sir Joseph Banks," a small schooner- rigged vessel ; the " Patriot," a little sloop ; and the " Pharos " lightship, a large clumsy-looking THE LIGHTHOUSE. 75 Dutch- built ship, fitted with three masts, at the top of which were the lanterns. It was intended that this vessel should do duty as a lightship until the lighthouse should be completed. Besides these there were two large boats, used for landing stones and building materials on the rock. These vessels lay floating almost motionless on the calm sea, and at first there was scarcely any noise aboard of them to indicate that they were tenanted by human beings, but when the sound of the " Smeaton's " cable was heard there was a bustle aboard of each, and soon faces were seen looking inquisitively over the sides of the ships. The " Smeaton's " boat was lowered after the anchor was let go, and the new hands were trans- ferred to the "Pharos," which was destined to be their home for some time to come. Just as they reached her the bell rang for breakfast, and when Euby stepped upon the deck he found himself involved in all the bustle that ensues when men break off from work and make preparation for the morning meaL There were upwards of thirty artificers on board the lightship at this time. Some of these, as they hurried to and fro, gave the new arrivals a hearty greeting, and asked, " What news from the shore ? " Others were apparently too much taken up witb their own affairs to take notice of them. 76 THE LIGHTHOUSE. While Euby was observing the busy scene with absorbing interest, and utterly forgetful of the fact that he was in any way connected with it, an elderly gentleman, whose kind countenance and hearty manner gave indication of a genial spirit within, came up and accosted him : " You are our assistant-blacksmith, I believe ?" " Yes, sir, I am," replied Euby, doffing his cap, as if he felt instinctively that he was in the presence of some one of note. " You have had considerable practice, I suppose, in your trade ?" "A good deal, sir, but not much latterly, for I have been at sea for some time." " At sea ? "Well, that won't be against you here," returned the gentleman, with a meaning smile. " It would be well if some of my men were a little more accustomed to the sea, for they suffer much from sea-sickness. You can go below, my man, and get breakfast. You '11 find your future messmate busy at his, I doubt not. Here, steward," (turning to one of the men who chanced to pass at the moment), " take Euby Brand that is your name, I think ?" " It is, sir." " Take Brand below, and introduce him to James Dove as his assistant." The steward escorted Euby down the ladder that conducted to those dark and littered depths of the THE LIGHTHOUSE. 77 ship's hull that were assigned to the artificers as their place of abode. But amidst a good deal of unavoidable confusion, Ruby's practised eye discerned order and arrangement everywhere. "This is your messmate, Jamie Dove," said the steward, pointing to a massive dark man, whose outward appearance was in keeping with his posi- tion as the Vulcan of such an undertaking as he was then engaged in. " You '11 find him not a bad feller if you only don't cross him." He added, with a wink, " His only fault is that he 's given to spoilin' good victuals, bein' raither floored by sea- sickness if it comes on to blow ever so little." " Hold your clapper, lad," said the smith, who was at the moment busily engaged with a mess of salt pork, and potatoes to match. " Who 's your friend ? " " No friend o' mine, though I hope he '11 be one soon," answered the steward. " Mr. Stevenson told me to introduce him to you as your assistant." The smith looked up quickly, and scanned our hero with some interest ; then, extending his great hard hand across the table, he said, "Welcome, messmate ; sit down, I' ve only just begun." Ruby grasped the hand with his own, which, if not so large, was quite as powerful, and shook the smith's right arm in a way that called forth from that rough-looking individual a smile of approbation. 78 THE LIGHTHOUSE. " You've not had breakfast, lad ?" " No, not yet," said Kuby, sitting down opposite his comrade. " An' the smell here don 't upset your stummick, I hope?" The smith said this rather anxiously. " Not in the least," said Kuby with a laugh, and beginning to eat in a way that proved the truth of his words ; " for the matter o' that, there 's little smell and no motion just now." " Well, there isn 't much," replied the smith, " but, woe's me ! you'll get enough of it before long. All the new landsmen like you suffer horribly from sea- sickness when they first come off." " But I 'm not a landsman," said Euby. '' Not a landsman !" echoed the other. " You 're a blacksmith, aren 't you ?" " Ay, but not a landsman. I learned the trade as a boy and lad ; but I 've been at sea for some time past." " Then you won 't get sick when it blows ?" " Certainly not ; will you ?" The smith groaned and shook his head, by which answer he evidently meant to assure his friend that he would, most emphatically. " But come, it's of no use groanin' over what can't be helped. I get as sick as a dog every time the wind rises, and the worst of it is I don 't never seem THE LIGHTHOUSE. 79 to improve. Howsever, I'm all right when I get on the Eock, and that 's the main thing." Euby and his friend now entered upon a long and earnest conversation as to their peculiar duties at the Bell Rock, with which we will not trouble the reader. After breakfast they went on deck, and here Euby had sufficient to occupy his attention and to amuse him for some hours. As the tide that day did not fall low enough to admit of landing on the rock till noon, the men were allowed to spend the time as they pleased. Some therefore took to fishing, others to reading, while a few employed themselves in drying their clothes, which had got wet the previous day, and one or two entertained themselves and their comrades with the music of the violin and flute. All were busy with one thing or another, until the rock began to show its black crest above the smooth sea. Then a bell was rung to summon the artificers to land. This being the signal for Euby to commence work, he joined his Mend Dove, and assisted him to lower the bellows of the forge into the boat. The men were soon in their places, with their various tools, and the boats pushed off Mr. Stevenson, the engineer of the building, steering one boat, and the master of the " Pharos," who was also appointed to the post of landing-master, steering the other. 80 THE LIGHTHOUSE. They landed with ease on this occasion on the western side of the rock, and then each man addressed himself to his special duty with energy. The time during which they could work being short, they had to make the most of it. " Now, lad," said the smith, " bring along the bellows and follow me. Mind yer footin', for it's slippery walkin' on them tangle- covered rocks. I Ve seen some ugly falls here already." " Have any bones been broken yet ?" inquired Ruby, as he shouldered the large pair of bellows, and followed the smith cautiously over the rocks. " Not yet ; but there 's been an awful lot o' pipes smashed. If it goes on as it has been, we '11 have to take to metal ones. Here we are, Euby, this is the forge, and I '11 be bound you never worked at such a queer one before. Hallo ! Bremner !" he shouted to one of the men. " That 's me," answered Bremner. " Bring your irons as soon as you like ; I 'm about ready for you." " Ay, ay, here they are," said the man, advancing with an armful of picks, chisels, and other tools, which required sharpening. He slipped and fell as he spoke, sending all the tools into the bottom of a pool of water ; but, being used to such mishaps, he arose, joined in the laugh raised against him, and soon fished up the tools. THE LIGHTHOUSE. 81 "What's wrong?" asked Kuby, pausing in the work of fixing the bellows, on observing that the smith's face grew pale, and his general expression became one of horror. " Not sea-sick, I hope ?" " Sea-sick," gasped the smith, slapping all his pockets hurriedly, " it 's worse than that ; I 've forgot the matches !" Euby looked perplexed, but had no consolation to offer. " That 's like you," cried Bremner, who, being one of the principal masons, had to attend chiefly to the digging out of the foundation-pit of the building, and knew that his tools could not be sharpened unless the forge fire could be lighted. " Suppose you hammer a nail red-hot," suggested one of the men, who was disposed to make game of the smith. " I '11 hammer your nose red-hot," replied Dove, with a most undovoiike scowl, " I could swear that I put them matches into my pocket before I started." ''No, you didn't," said George Forsyth, one of the carpenters a tall, loose-jointed man, who was chiefly noted for his dislike to getting into and out of boats, and climbing up the sides of ships, because of his lengthy and unwieldy figure "No, you didn't, you turtle-dove, you forgot to take them ; but I remembered to do it for you ; so there, v 82 THE LIGHTHOUSE. get up your fire, and confess yourself indebted to me for life." " I 'm indebted to 'ee for fire," said the smith, grasping the matches eagerly. " Thank'ee, lad, you're a true Briton." " A tall 'un, rather," suggested Bremner. " Wot never, never, never will be a slave," sang another of the men. " Come, laddies, git up the fire. Time an' tide waits for naebody," said John Watt, one of the quarriers. " We '11 want thae tools before lang." The men were proceeding with their work actively while those remarks were passing, and ere long the smoke of the forge fire arose in the still air, and the clang of the anvil was added to the other noises with which the busy spot resounded. The foundation of the Bell Eock Lighthouse had been carefully selected by Mr Stevenson ; the exact spot being chosen not only with a view to elevation, but to the serrated ridges of rock, that might afford some protection to the building, by breaking the force of the easterly seas before they should reach it ; but as the space available for the purpose of building was scarcely fifty yards in diameter, there was not much choice in the matter. The foundation-pit was forty-two feet in diameter, Ind sunk five feet into the solid rock At the time when Ruby landed, it was being hewn out by a large THE LIGHTHOUSE. 83 party of the men. Others were boring holes in the rock near to it, for the purpose of fixing the great beams of a beacon, while others were cutting away the sea-weed from the rock, and making preparations for the laying down of temporary rails to facilitate the conveying of the heavy stones from the boats to their ultimate destination. All were busy as bees. Each man appeared to work as if for a wager, or to find out how much he could do within a given space of time. To the men on the rock itself the aspect of the spot was sufficiently striking and peculiar, but to those who viewed it from a boat at a short distance off it was singularly interesting, for the whole scene of operations appeared like a small black spot, scarcely above the level of the waves, on which a crowd of living creatures were moving about with great and incessant activity, while all around and beyond lay the mighty sea, sleeping in the grand tranquillity of a calm summer day, with nothing to bound it but the blue sky, save to the northward, where the distant cliffs of Forfar rested like a faint cloud on the horizon. The sounds, too, which on the rock itself were harsh and loud and varied, came over the water to the distant observer in a united tone, which sounded almost as sweet as soft music. The smith's forge stood on a ledge of rock close to 84 THE LIGHTHOUSE. the foundation-pit, a little to the north of it. Here Vulcan Dove had fixed a strong iron framework, which formed the hearth. The four legs which supported it were let into holes bored from six to twelve inches into the rock, according to the in- equalities of the site. These were wedged first with wood and then with iron, for as this part of the forge and the anvil was doomed to be drowned every tide, or twice every day, besides being exposed to the fury of all the storms that might chance to blow, it behoved them to fix things down with un- usual firmness. The block of timber for supporting the anvil was fixed in the same manner, but the anvil itself was left to depend on its own" weight and the small stud fitted into the bottom of it. The bellows, however, were too delicate to be left exposed to such forces as the stormy winds and waves, they were therefore shipped and unshipped every tide, and conveyed to and from the rock in the boats with the men. Dove and Euby wrought together like heroes. They were both so powerful that the heavy imple- ments they wielded seemed to possess no weight when in their strong hands, and their bodies were so lithe and active as to give the impression of men rejoicing, revelling, in the enjoyment of theii work. THE LIGHTHOUSE. 85 " That 's your sort ; hit him hard, he 's got no friends," said Dove, turning a mass of red-hot metal from side to side, while Ruby pounded it with a mighty hammer, as if it were a piece of putty. " Fire and steel for ever," observed Ruby, as he made the sparks fly right and left. " Hallo ! the tide 's rising." " Ho ! so it is," cried the smith, finishing off the piece of work with a small hammer, while Ruby rested on the one he had used and wiped the per- spiration from his brow. " It always serves me in this way, lad," continued the smith, without pausing for a moment in his work. " Blow away, Ruby, the sea is my greatest enemy. Every day, a'most, it washes me away from my work. In calm weather, it creeps up my legs, and the legs o' the forge too, till it gradually puts out the fire, and in rough weather it sends up a wave sometimes that sweeps the whole concern black out at one shot." " It will creep you out to-day, evidently," said Ruby, as the water began to come about his toes. " Never mind, lad, we '11 have time to finish them picks this tide, if we work fast." Thus they toiled and moiled, with their heads and shoulders in smoke and fire, and their feet in water. Gradually the tide rose. " Pump away, Ruby ! Keep the pot bilin', my boy," said the smith. 86 THE LIGHTHOUSE. " The wind blowin', you mean. I say, Dove, do the other men like the work here ?" " Like it, ay, they like it well At first we were somewhat afraid o' the landin' in rough weather, but we Ve got used to that now. The only bad thing about it is the rollin' o' that horrible ' Pharos. She 's so bad in a gale that I sometimes think she 'L roll right over like a cask. Most of us get sick then, but I don't think any of 'em are as bad as me. They seem to be gettin' used to that too. I wish ] could. Another blow, Euby." " Time 's up," shouted one of the men. " Hold on just for a minute or two," pleaded the smith, who, with his assistant, was by this time standing nearly knee-deep in water. The sea had filled the pit some time before, and driven the men out of it. These busied themselves in collecting the tools and seeing that nothing was left lying about, while the men who were engaged on those parts oi the rock that were a few inches higher, continued their labours until the water crept up to them. Then they collected their tools, and went to the boats, which lay awaiting them at the western landing-place. " Now, Dove," cried the landing-master, " come along ; the crabs will be attacking your toes if you don't." THE LIGHTHOUSE. 87 " It 's a shame to gi'e Kuby the chance o' a sail throat the very first day," cried John Watt. "Just half-a-minute more," said the smith, ex- amining a pick-axe, which he was getting up to that delicate point of heat which is requisite to give it proper temper. While he gazed earnestly into the glowing coals a gentle hissing sound was heard below the frame of the forge, then a gurgle, and the fire became suddenly dark and went out ! " I knowed it ! always the way !" cried Dove, with a look of disappointment. " Come, lad, up with the bellows now, and don't forget the tongs." In a few minutes more the boats pushed off and returned to the " Pharos," three and a half hours of good work having been accomplished before the tide drove them away. Soon afterwards the sea overflowed the whole of the rock, and obliterated the scene of those busy operations as completely as though it had nevei been ! CHAPTER IX. STORMS AND TROUBLES. A WEEK of fine weather caused Ruby Brand to fall as deeply in love with the work at the Bell Rock as his comrades had done. There was an amount of vigour and excitement about it, with a dash of romance, which quite harmonized with his character. At first he had imagined it would be monotonous and dull, but in experience he found it to be quite the reverse. Although there was uniformity in the general character of the work, there was constant variety in many of the details ; and the spot on which it was carried on was so circumscribed, and so utterly cut off from all the world, that the minds of those employed became concentrated on it in a way that aroused strong interest in every trifling object. There was not a ledge or a point of rock that rose ever so little above the general level, that was not named after, and intimately associated with, some event or individual. Every mass of sea- weed became THE LIGHTHOUSE. 83 a familiar object. The various little pools and inlets, many of them not larger than a dining-room table ; received high-sounding and dignified names such as Port Stevenson, Port Erskine, Taylor's Track, NeilFs Pool, etc. Of course the fish that frequented the pools, and the shell-fish that covered the rock, became subjects of much attention, and, in some cases, of earnest study. Robinson Crusoe himself did not pry into the secrets of his island-home with half the amount of assiduity that was displayed at this time by many of the men who built the Bell Rock Lighthouse. The very fact that their time was limited acted as a spur, so that on landing each tide they rushed hastily to the work, and the amateur studies in natural history to which we have referred were prosecuted hurriedly during brief intervals of rest. Afterwards, whea the beacon-house was erected, and the men dwelt upon the rock, these studies (if we may not call them amusements) were con- tinued more leisurely, but with unabated ardour, and furnished no small amount of comparatively thrilling incident at times. One fine morning, just after the men had landed, and before they had commenced work, " Long For- syth," as his comrades styled him, went to a pool to gather a little dulse, of which there was a great deal on the rock, and which was found to be exceedingly 90 THE LIGHTHOUSE. grateful to the palates of those who were afflicted with sea-sickness. He stooped over the pool to pluck a morsel, but paused on observing a beautiful fish, about a foot long, swimming in the clear water, as quietly as if it knew the man to be a friend, and were not in the least degree afraid of him. Forsyth was an excitable man, and also studious in his character. He at once became agitated and desirous of possessing that fish, for it was extremely brilliant and variegated in colour. He looked round for something to throw at it, but there was nothing within reach. He sighed for a hook and line, but as sighs never yet produced hooks or lines he did not get one. Just then the fish swam slowly to the side of the pool on which the man kneeled, as if it actually desired more intimate acquaintance. Forsyth lay flat down and reached out his hand toward it ; but it appeared to think this rather too familiar, for it swam slowly beyond his reach, and the man drew back. Again it came to the side, much nearer. Once more Forsyth lay down, reaching over the pool as far as he could, and insinuating his hand into the water. But the fish moved off a little. Thus they coquetted with each other for some time, until the man's comrades began to observe that he was " after something." THE LIGHTHOUSE. 91 " Wot's he a-doin' of?" said one. " Reachin' over the pool, I think," replied another. " Ye don't mean he 's sick ?" cried a third, The smile with which this was received was changed into a roar of laughter as poor Forsyth's long legs were seen to tip up into the air, and the whole man to disappear beneath the water. He had overbalanced himself in his frantic efforts to reach the fish, and was now making its acquaint- ance in its native element ! The pool, although small in extent, was so deep that Forsyth, long though he was, did not find bottom. Moreover, he could not swim, so that when he reached the surface he came up with his hands first and his ten fingers spread out help- lessly ; next appeared his shaggy head, with the eyes wide open, and the mouth tight shut. The moment the latter was uncovered, however, he uttered a tremendous yell, which was choked in the bud with a gurgle as he sank again. The men rushed to the rescue at once, and the next time Forsyth rose he was seized by the hair of the head and dragged out of the pool. It has not been recorded what became of the fish that caused such an alarming accident, but we may reasonably conclude that it sought refuge in the ocean cavelets at the bottom of that miniature sea, for Long Forsyth was so very large, and created such 92 THE LIGHTHOUSE. a terrible disturbance therein, that no fish exposed to the full violence of the storm could have sur- vived it ! " Wot a hobject !" exclaimed Joe Dumsby, a short, thickset, little Englishman, who, having been born and partly bred in London, was rather addicted to what is styled chaffing. " Was you arter a mermaid, shipmate?" " AV coorse he was," observed Ned O'Connor, an Irishman, who was afflicted with the belief that he was a rather witty fellow, " av' coorse he was, an' a merry-maid she must have bin to see a human spider like him kickin' up such a dust in the say." "He's like a drooned rotten," observed John Watt ; " tak aff yer claes, man, an' wring them dry." " Let the poor fellow be, and get along with you," cried Peter Logan, the foreman of the works, who came up at that moment With a few parting remarks and cautions, such as, " You 'd better bring a dry suit to the rock next time, lad," " Take care the crabs don't make off with you, boy," " and don't be gettin' too fond o' the girls in the sea," etc., the men scattered themselves over the rock and began their work in earnest, while Forsyth, who took the chaffing in good part, stripped himself and wrung the water out of his gar- ments. Episodes of this kind were not unfrequent, and THE LIGHTHOUSE. 93 they usually furnished food for conversation at the time, and for frequent allusion afterwards. But it was not all sunshine and play, by any means. Not long after Euby joined, the fine weather broke up, and a succession of stiff breezes, with occasional storms, more or less violent, set in. Landing on the rock became a matter of extreme difficulty, and the short period of work was often curtailed to little more than an hour each tide. The rolling of the " Pharos" lightship, too, be- came so great that sea-sickness prevailed to a large extent among the landsmen. One good arose out of this evil, however. Landing on the Bell Eock invariably cured the sickness for a time, and the sea-sick men had such an intense longing to eat of the dulse that grew there, that they were always ready and anxious to get into the boats when there was the slightest possibility of landing. Getting into the boats, by the way, in a heavy sea, when the lightship was rolling violently, was no easy matter. When the fine weather first broke up, it happened about midnight, and the change com- menced with a stiff breeze from the eastward. The sea rose at once, and, long before daybreak, the " Pharos" was rolling heavily in the swell, and straining violently at the strong cable which held her to her moorings. 94 THE LIGHTHOUSE. About dawn Mr Stevenson came on deck. He could not sleep, because he felt that on his shoulders rested not only the responsibility of carrying this gigantic work to a satisfactory conclusion, but also, to a large extent, the responsibility of watching over and guarding the lives of the people employed in the service. " Shall we be able to land to-day, Mr Wilson ?" he said, accosting the master of the " Pharos,"* who has been already introduced as the landing-master. " I think so ; the barometer has not fallen much ; and even although the wind should increase a little, we can effect a landing by the Fair Way, at Hope's Wharf." " Very well, I leave it entirely in your hands ; you understand the weather better than I do, but remember that I do not wish my men to run un- necessary or foolish risk." It may be as well to mention here that a small but exceedingly strong tramway of iron-grating had been fixed to the Bell Kock, at an elevation varying from two to four feet above it, and encircling the site of the building. This tramway or railroad was narrow, not quite three feet in width ; and small trucks were fitted to it, so that the heavy stones of the building might be easily run to the exact spot they were to occupy. From this circular rail several branch lines extended to the different THE LIGHTHOUSE. 95 creeks where the boats deposited the stones. These lines, although only a few yards in length, w"ere dignified with names as, Kennedy's Reach, Logan's Reach, Watt's Reach, and Slight's Reach. The ends of them, where they dipped into the sea, were named Hope's Wharf, Duff's Wharf, Rae's Wharf, etc. ; and these wharves had been fixed on different sides of the rock, so that, whatever wind should blow, there would always be one of them on the lee-side avail- able for the carrying on of the work. Hope's Wharf was connected with Port Erskine, a pool about twenty yards long by three or four wide, and communicated with the side of the lighthouse by Watt's Reach, a distance of about thirty yards. About eight o'clock that morning the bell rang for breakfast. Such of the men as were not already up began to get out of their berths and hammocks. To Euby the scene that followed was very amusing. Hitherto all had been calm and sunshine. The work, although severe while they were engaged, had been of short duration, and the greater part of each day had been afterwards spent in light work, or in amusement. The summons to meals had always been a joyful one, and the appetites of the men were keenly set. Now, all this was changed. The ruddy faces of the men were become green, blue, yellow, and purple, accoi'ding to temperament, but few were flesh- 96 THE LIGHTHOUSE. coloured or red. When the bell rang there was a universal groan below, and half-a-dozen ghostlike individuals raised themselves on their elbows and looked up with expressions of the deepest woe at the dim skylight. Most of them speedily fell back again, however, partly owing to a heavy lurch of the vessel, and partly owing to indescribable sensations within. " Bio win' !" groaned one, as if that single word comprehended the essence of all the miseries that seafaring man is heir to. "O dear!" sighed another, "why did I ever come here ?" " Och ! murder, I 'm dyin', send for the praist an' me mother !" cried O'Connor, as he fell flat down on his back and pressed both hands tightly over his mouth. The poor blacksmith lost control over himself at this point and found partial relief ! The act tended to relieve others. Most of the men were much too miserable to make any remark at all, a few of them had not heart even to groan; but five or six sat up on the edge of their beds, with a weak intention of turning out. They sat there swaying about with the motions of the ship in help- less indecision, until a tremendous roll sent them flying, with unexpected violence, against the star- board bulkheads. THE LIGHTHOUSE. 97 " Come, lads,' cried Ruby, leaping out of his ham- mock, " there '& nothing like a vigorous jump to put sea-sickness to flight." " Humbug !" ejaculated Bremner, who owned a little black dog, which lay at that time on the pillow gazing into his master's green face, with wondering sympathy. "Ah, Ruby," groaned the smith, "it's all very well for a sea-dog like you that's used to it, but James Dove stopped short abruptly. It is not necessary to explain the cause of his abrupt silence. Suffice it to say that he did not thereafter attempt to finish that sentence. "Steward !" roared Joe Dumsby. " Ay, ay, shipmate, what's up T cried the steward, who chanced to pass the door of the men's sleeping- place, with a large dish of boiled salt pork, at the moment. " Wot's up ?" echoed Dumsby. " Everythink that ever went into me since I was a hinfant must be ' up ' by this time. I say, is there any chance of gettin' on the rock to-day ?" " yes. 1 heard the cap'n say it would be quite easy, and they seem to be makin' ready now, so if any of 'ee want breakfast you'd better turn out." This speech acted like a shock of electricity on the wretched men. In a moment every bed was G 98 THE LIGHTHOUSE. empty, and the place was in a bustle of confusion as they hurriedly threw on their clothes. Some of them even began to think of the possi- bility of venturing on a hard biscuit and a cup of tea, but a gust of wind sent the fumes of the salt pork into the cabin at the moment, and the mere idea of food filled them with unutterable loathing. Presently the bell rang again. This was the signal for the men to muster, the boats being ready along- side. The whole crew at once rushed on deck, some of them thrusting biscuits into their pockets as they passed the steward's quarters. Not a man was absent on the roll being called. Even the smith crawled on deck, and had spirit enough left to ad- vise Euby not to forget the bellows ; to which Euby replied by recommending his comrade not to forget the matches. Then the operation of embarking began. The sea at the time was running pretty high, with little white flecks of foam tipping the crests of the deep blue waves. The eastern sky was dark and threatening. The black ridges of the Bell Eock were visible only at times in the midst of the sea of foam that surrounded them. Any one ignorant of their nature would have deemed a landing absolutely impossible. The " Pharos," as we have said, was rolling violently from side to side, insomuch that those who were in THE LIGHTHOUSE. 99 j;he boats had the greatest difficulty in preventing them from being stove in; and getting into these boats had much the appearance of an exceedingly difficult and dangerous feat, which active and reck- less men might undertake for a wager. But custom reconciles one to almost anything. Most of the men had had sufficient experience by that time to embark with comparative ease. Nevertheless, there were a few whose physical con- formation was such that they could do nothing neatly. Poor Forsyth was one of these. Each man had to stand on the edge of the lightship, outside the bulwarks, holding on to a rope, ready to let go and drop into the boat when it rose up and met the vessel's roll. In order to facilitate the operation a boat went to either side of the ship, so that two men were always in the act of watching for an opportunity to spring. The active men usually got in at the first or second attempt, but others missed frequently, and were of course " chaffed " by their more fortunate comrades. The embarking of " Long Forsyth" was always a scene in rough weather, and many a narrow escape had he of a ducking. On the present occasion, being very sick, he was more awkward than usual " Now, Longlegs," cried the men who held the boat on the starboard side, as Forsyth got over the 100 THE LIGHTHOUSE. side and stood ready to spring, " let 's see how good you '11 be to-day." He was observed by Joe Dumsby, who had just succeeded in getting into the boat on the port side of the ship, and who always took a lively interest in his tall comrade's proceedings. . " Hallo ! is that the spider ?" he cried, as the ship rolled towards him, and the said spider appeared towering high on the opposite bulwark, sharply de- picted against the grey sky. It was unfortunate for Joe that he chanced to be on the opposite side from his friend, for at each roll the vessel necessarily intervened and hid him for a few seconds from view. Next roll, Forsyth did not dare to leap, although the gunwale of the boat came within a foot of him. He hesitated, the moment was lost, the boat sank into the hollow of the sea, and the man was swung high into the air, where he was again caught sight of by Dumsby. " What ! are you there yet ?" he cried. " You must be fond of a swing Before he could say more the ship rolled over to the other side, and Forsyth was hid from view. " Now, lad, now ! now I" shouted the boat's crew, as the unhappy man once more neared the gunwale. Forsyth hesitated. Suddenly he became desperate and sprang, but the hesitation gave him a much THE LIGHTHOUSE. 101 higher fall than he would otherwise have had; it caused him also to leap wildly in a sprawling man- ner, so that he came down on the shoulders of his com- rades " all of a lump." Fortunately they were prepared for something of the sort, so that no damage was done. When the boats were at last filled they pushed off and rowed towards the rock. On approaching it the men were cautioned to pull steadily by Mr. Stevenson, who steered the leading boat It was a standing- order in the landing department that every man should use his greatest exertions in giving to the boats sufficient velocity to preserve their steerage-way in entering the respective creeks at the rock, that the contending seas might not over- power them at places where the free use of the oars could not be had on account of the surrounding rocks or the masses of sea- weed with which the water was everywhere encumbered at low tide. This order had been thoroughly impressed upon the men, as carelessness or inattention to it might have proved fatal to all on board. As the leading boat entered the fair-way, its steersman saw that more than ordinary caution would be necessary; for the great green billows that thundered to windward of the rock came sweeping down on either side of it, and met on the lee side, where they swept onward with considerable, though much abated force. 102 THE LIGHTHOUSE. " Mind your oars, lads ; pull steady," said Mr. Stevenson, as they began to get amongst the sea- weed. The caution was unnecessary as far as the old hands were concerned ; but two of the men hap- pened to be new hands, who had come off with Euby, and did not fully appreciate the necessity of strict obedience. One of these, sitting at the bow oar, looked over his shoulder, and saw a heavy sea rolling towards the boat, and inadv rtently expressed some fear. The other man, on hea. ing this, glanced round, and in doing so missed a stroke of his oar. Such a preponderance was thus given to the rowers on the opposite side, that when the wave struck the boat, it caught her on the side instead of the bow, and hurled her upon a ledge of shelving rocks, where the water left her. Having been kanted to sea- ward, the next billow completely filled her, and, of course, drenched the crew. Instantly Euby Brand and one or two of the most active men leaped out, and, putting forth all their strength, turned the boat round so as to meet the succeeding sea with its bow first. Then, after making considerable efforts, they pushed her off into deep water, and finally made the landing- place. The other boat could render no assistance ; but, indeed, the whole thing was the work of a few minutes. THE LIGHTHOUSE. 103 ' As the boats could not conveniently leave the /ock till flood-tide, all hands set to work with un- wonted energy in order to keep themselves warm, not however, before they ate heartily of their favourite dulse the blacksmith being conspicuous for the voracious manner in which he devoured it. Soon the bellows were set up ; the fire was kindled, and the ring of the anvil heard ; but poor Dove and Euby had little pleasure in their work that day ; for the wind blew the smoke and sparks about their faces, and occasionally a higher wave than ordinary sent the spray flying round them, to the detriment of their fire. Nevertheless they plied the hammer and bellows unceasingly. The other men went about their work with similar disregard of the fury of the elements and the wet condition of their garments. CHAPTEE X. THE RISING OP THE TIDE A NARROW EBCAVi. THE portion of the work that Mr. Stevenson was now most anxious to get advanced was the beacon. The necessity of having an erection of this kind was very obvious, for, in the event of anything hap- pening to the boats, there would be no refuge for the men to fly to; and the tide would probably sweep them all away before their danger could be known, or assistance sent from the attendant vessels. Every man felt that his personal safety might depend on the beacon during some period of the work. The energies of all, therefore, were turned to the pre- liminary arrangements for its erection. As the beacon would require to withstand the utmost fury of the elements during all seasons of the year, it was necessary that it should be possessed of immense strength. In order to this, six cuttings were made in the rock for the reception of the ends of the six great beams of the beacon. Each beam was to be fixed THE LIGHTHOUSE. 105 to the solid rock by two strong and massive bats, or stanchions, of iron. These bats, for the fixing of the principal and diagonal beams and bracing-chains, required fifty-four holes, each measuring a foot and a half deep, and two inches wide. The operation of boring such holes into the solid rock, was not an easy or a quick one, but by admirable arrangements on the part of the engineer, and steady perseverance on the part of the men, they progressed faster than had been anticipated. Three men were attached to each juniper, or boring chisel ; one placed himself in a sitting pos- ture, to guide the instrument, and give it a turn at each blow of the hammer; he also sponged and cleaned out the hole, and supplied it occasionally with a little water, while the other two, with ham- mers of sixteen pounds' weight, struck the jumper alternately, generally bringing the hammer with a swing round the shoulder, after the manner of blacksmith work. Euby, we may remark in passing, occupied him- self at this work as often as he could get away from his duties at the forge, being particularly fond of it, as it enabled him to get rid of some of his super- abundant energy, and afforded him a suitable exer- cise for his gigantic strength. It also tended to relieve his feelings when he happened to think of Minnie being so near, and he so utterly and 106 THE LIGHTHOUSE. hopelessly cut off from all communication with her. But to return to the bat-holes. The three men relieved each other in the operations of wielding the hammers and guiding the jumpers, so that the work never flagged for a moment, and it was found that when the tools were of a very good temper, these holes could be sunk at the rate of one inch per minute, including stoppages. But the tools were not always of good temper ; and severely was poor Dove's temper tried by the frequency of the scolds which he received from the men, some of whom were clumsy enough, Dove said, to spoil the best tem- pered tool in the world. But the most tedious part of the operation did not lie in the boring of these holes. In order that they should be of the required shape, two holes had to be bored, a few inches apart from each other, and the rock cut away from between them. It was this latter part of the work that took up most time. Those of the men who were not employed about the beacon were working at the foundation-pit. While the party were thus busily occupied on the Bell Eock, an event occurred which rendered the importance of the beacon, if possible, more obvious than ever, and which wellnigh put an end to the career of all those who were engaged on the rock f..t that time. THE LIGHTHOUSE. 107 The " Pharos " floating-light lay at a distance of above two miles from the Bell Eock ; but one of the smaller vessels, the sloop " Smeaton," lay much closer to it, and some of the artificers were berthed aboard of her, instead of the floating-light. Some time after the landing of the two boats from the " Pharos," the " Smeaton's " boat put off and landed eight men on the rock ; soon after which the crew of the boat pushed off and returned to the " Smeaton " to examine her riding-ropes, and see that they were in good order, for the wind was beginning to increase, and the sea to rise. The boat had no sooner reached the vessel than the latter began to drift, carrying the boat along with her. Instantly those on board endeavoured to hoist the mainsail of the " Smeaton," with the view of working her up to the buoy from which she had parted ; but it blew so hard, that by the time she was got round to make a tack towards the rock, she had drifted at least three miles to leeward. The circumstance of the " Smeaton " and her boat having drifted was observed first by Mr. Stevenson, who prudently refrained from drawing attention to the fact, and walked slowly to the farther point of the rock to watch her. He was quickly followed by the landing-master, who touched him on the shoulder, and in perfect silence, but with a look of intense anxiety, pointed to the vessel. THE LIGHTHOUSE. " I see it, Wilson. God help us if she fails to make the rock within a very short time," said Mr. Stevenson. " She will never reach us in time," said Wilson, in a tone that convinced his companion he entertained no hope. " Perhaps she may," he said hurriedly ; " she is a good sailer." " Good sailing," replied the other, " cannot avail against wind and tide together. No human power can bring that vessel to our aid until long after the tide has covered the Bell Eock." Both remained silent for some time, watching with intense anxiety the ineffectual efforts of the little vessel to beat up to windward. In a few minutes the engineer turned to his com- panion and said, " They cannot save us, Wilson. The two boats that are left can they hold us all ?" The landing-master shook his head. "The two boats," said he, " will be completely filled by their own crews. For ordinary rough weather they would be quite full enough. In a sea like that," he said, pointing to the angry waves, that were being gra- dually lashed into foam by the increasing wind, " they will be overloaded." " Come, I don't know that, Wilson ; we may de- vise something," said Mr Stevenson, with a forced air of confidence, as he moved slowly towards the THE LIGHTHOUSE. 109 place where the men were still working, busy as bees and all unconscious of the perilous circum- stances in which they were placed. As the engineer pondered the prospect of deliver- ance, his thoughts led him rather to despair than to hope. There were thirty-two persons in all upon the rock that day, with only two boats, which, even in good weather, could not unitedly accommodate more than twenty-four sitters. But to row to the floating- light with so much wind and in so heavy a sea, a complement of eight men for each boat was as much as could with propriety be attempted, so that about half of their number was thus unprovided for. Under these circumstances he felt that to despatch one of the boats in expectation of either working the " Smeaton" sooner up to the rock, or in hopes of getting her boat brought to their assist- ance, would, besides being useless, at once alarm the workmen, each of whom would probably insist upon taking to his own boat, and leaving the eight men of the " Smeaton " to their chance. A scuffle might ensue, and he knew well that when men are contending for life the results may be very dis- astrous. For a considerable time the men remained in ignorance of the terrible conflict that was going on in their commander's breast. As they wrought chiefly in sitting or kneeling postures, excavating 110 THE LIGHTHOUSE. the rock or boring with jumpers, their attention was naturally diverted from everything else around them. The dense volumes of smoke, too, that rose from the forge-fire, so enveloped them as to render distant objects dim or altogether invisible. While this lasted, while the numerous hammers were going and the anvil continued to sound, the situation of things did not appear so awful to the only two who were aware of what had occurred. But ere long the tide began to rise upon those who were at work on the lower parts of the beacon and lighthouse. From the run of the sea upon the rock, the forge-fire was extinguished sooner than usual ; the volumes of smoke cleared away, and objects be- came visible in all directions. After having had about three hours' work, the men began pretty generally to make towards their respective boats for their jackets and socks. Then it was that they made the discovery that one boat was absent. Only a few exclamations were uttered. .A glance at the two boats and a hurried gaze to seaward were sufficient to acquaint them with their awful posi- tion. Not a word was spoken by any one. All appeared to be silently calculating their numbers, and looking at each other with evident marks of perplexity depicted in their countenances. The landing-master, conceiving that blame might attach THE LIGHTHOUSE. Ill tp him for having allowed the boat to leave the rock, kept a little apart from the men. All eyes were turned, as if by instinct, to Mr. Stevenson. The men seemed to feel that the issue lay with him. The engineer was standing on an elevated part of the rock named Smith's Ledge, gazing in deep anxiety at the distant " Smeaton," in the hope that he might observe some effort being made, at least to pull the boat to their rescue. Slowly but surely the tide rose, overwhelming the lower parts of the rock ; sending each successive wave nearer and nearer to the feet of those who were now crowded on the last ledge that could afford them standing-room. The deep silence that prevailed was awful ! It proved that each mind saw clearly the impossibility of anything being devised, and that a deadly struggle for precedence was inevitable. Mr. Stevenson had all along been rapidly turning over in his mind various schemes which might be put in practice for the general safety, provided the men could be kept under command. He accordingly turned to address them on the perilous nature of their circumstances; intending to propose that all hands should strip off their upper clothing when the higher parts of the rock should be laid under water ; Ihat the seamen should remove every unnecessary 112 THE LIGHTHOUSE. weight and encumbrance from the boats; that a specified number of men should go into each boat ; and that the remainder should hang by the gun- wales, while the boats were to be rowed gently towards the " Smeaton," as the course to the floating- light lay rather to windward of the rock. But when he attempted to give utterance to his thoughts the words refused to come. So powerful an effect had the awful nature of their position upon him, that his parched tongue could not articulate. He learned, from terrible experience, that saliva is as necessary to speech as the tongue itself. Stooping hastily, he dipped his hand into a pool of salt water and moistened his mouth. This pro- duced immediate relief and he was about to speak, when Euby Brand, who had stood at his elbow all the time with compressed lips and a stern frown on his brow, suddenly took off his cap, and, waving it above his head, shouted "A boat! a boat!" with all the power of his lungs. All eyes were at once turned in the direction to which he pointed, and there, sure enough, a large boat was seen through the haze, making towards the rock. Doubtless many a heart there swelled with grati- tude to God, who had thus opportunely and most unexpectedly sent them relief at the eleventh hour ; but the only sound that escaped them was a cheer, THE LIGHTHOUSE. 113 9*ich as men seldom give or hear save in cases oa deliverance in times of dire extremity. The boat belonged to James Spink, the Bell Eock pilot, who chanced to have come off express from Arbroath that day with letters. We have said that Spink came off by chance;' but, when we consider all the circumstances of the case, and the fact that boats seldom visited the Bell Rock at any time, and never during bad weather, we are constrained to feel that God does in His mercy interfere sometimes in a peculiar and special manner in human affairs, and that there was something more and higher than mere chance in the deliverance of Stevenson and his men upon this occasion. The pilot-boat, having taken on board as many as it could hold, set sail for the floating-light ; the other boats then put off from the rock with the rest of the men, but they did not reach the " Pharos" until after a long and weary pull of three hours, during which the waves broke over the boats so fre- quently as to necessitate constant baling. When the floating-light was at last reached, a new difficulty met them, for the vessel rolled so much, and the men were so exhausted, that it proved to be a work of no little toil and dangwr to get them all on board. Long Forsyth, in particular, cost them all an infinite amount of labour, for he was so sick, poor N 114 THE LIGHTHOUSE. fellow, that he could scarcely move. Indeed, he did at one time beg them earnestly to drop him into the sea and be done with him altogether, a request with which they- of course refused to comply. However, he was got up somehow, and the whole of them were comforted by a glass of rum and thereafter a cup of hot coffee. Buby had the good fortune to obtain the additional comfort of a letter from Minnie, which, although it did not throw much light on the proceedings of Cap- tain Ogilvy (for that sapient seaman's proceedings were usually involved in a species of obscurity which light could not penetrate), nevertheless as- sured him that something was being done in his behalf, and that, if he only kept quiet for a time, all would be well The letter also assured him of the unalterable affection of the writer, an assurance which caused him to rejoice to such an extent that he became for a time perfectly regardless of all other sublunary things, and even came to look upon the Bell Rock as a species of paradise, watched over by the eye of an angel with golden hair, in which he could indulge his pleasant dreams to the utmost That he had to indulge those dreams in the midst of storm and rain and smoke, surrounded by sea and sea-weed, workmen and hammers, and forges and picks, and jumpers and seals, while his strong THE LIGHTHOUSE. 115 ^muscles and endurance were frequently tried to the uttermost, "was a matter of no moment to Ruby Brand. All experience goes to prove that great joy will utterly overbear the adverse influence of physical troubles, especially if those troubles are without, and do not touch the seats of life within. Minnie's love, expressed as it was in her own innocent, truth- ful, and straightforward way, rendered his body, big though it was, almost incapable of containing his soul He pulled the oar, hammered the jumper, battered the anvil, tore at the bellows, and hewed the solid Bell Rock with a vehemence that aroused the admiration of his comrades, and induced Jamie Dove to pronounce him to be the best fellow the world ever produced. CHAPTER XI. A STORM, AND A DISMAL STATE OF THINGS ON BOARD THE " FIUR08." FROM what has been said at the close of the last chapter, it will not surprise the reader to be told that the storm which blew during that night had no further effect on Ruby Brand than to toss his hair about, and cause a ruddier glow than usual to deepen the tone of his bronzed countenance. It was otherwise with many of his hapless com- rades, a few of whom had also received letters that day, but whose pleasure was marred to some extent by the qualms within. Being Saturday, a glass of rum was served out in the evening, according to custom, and the men pro- ceeded to hold what is known by the name of " Saturday night at sea." This being a night that was usually much enjoyed on board, owing to the home memories that vrere recalled, and the familiar songs that were sung; owing, also, to the limited supply of grog, which mi^ht indeed cheer, but could not by any possibility THE LIGHTHOUSE. 117 inebriate, the men endeavoured to shake off their fatigue, and to forget, if possible, the rolling of the vessel The first effort was not difficult, but the second was not easy. At first, however, the gale was not severe, so they fought against circumstances bravely for a time. " Come, lads," cried the smith, in a species of serio- comic desperation, when they had all assembled below, " let 's drink to sweethearts and wives." " Hear, hear ! Bless their hearts ! Sweethearts and wives !" responded the men. " Hip, hip !" The cheer that followed was a genuine one. " Now for a song, boys," cried one of the men, "and I think the last arrivals are bound to sing first." " Hear, hear ! Euby lad, you 're in for it," said the smith, who sat near his assistant. " What shall I sing ?" inquired Euby. " Oh ! let me see," said Joe Dumsby, assuming the air of one who endeavoured to recall something. " Could you come Beet'oven's symphony on B flat ?" " Ah ! howld yer tongue, Joe," cried O'Connor, " sure the young man can only sing on the sharp kays ; ain't he always sharpin' the tools, not to speak of his appetite?" " You've a blunt way of speaking yourself, friend," said Dumsby, in a tone of reproof. 118 THE LIGHTHOUSE. " Hallo ! stop your jokes," cried the smith ; " if you treat us to any more o' that sort o' thing we 11 have ye dipped over the side, and hung up to dry at the end o' the main-yard. Fire away, Ruby, my tulip !" "Ay, that's hit," said John Watt " Gie us the girl ye left behind ye." Euby flushed suddenly, and turned towards the speaker with a look of surprise. " What 's wrang, freend ? Hae ye never heard o' that sang ?" inquired Watt. " yes, I forgot," said Ruby, recovering himself in some confusion. " I know the song I I was thinking of something of " " The girl ye left behind ye, av coorse," put in O'Connor, with a wink. " Come, strike up !" cried the men. Ruby at once obeyed, and sang the desired song with a sweet, full voice, that had the effect of moisten- ing some of the eyes present. The song was received enthusiastically. " Your health and song, lad," said Robert Selkirk, the principal builder, who came down the ladder and joined them at that moment. " Thank you, now it 's my call," said Ruby. " I call upon Ned O'Connor for a song." " Or a speech," cried Forsyth. " A spaitch is it ?" said O'Connor, with a look of deep modesty. " Sure, I never made a spaitch in rae THE LIGHTHOUSE. 119 life, except when I axed Mrs. O'Connor to marry me, an' I never finished that spaitch, for I only got the length of ' Och ! darlint,' when she cut me short in the middle with ' Sure, you may have me, Ned, and welcome!'" " Shame, shame !" said Dove, " to say that of your wife." " Shame to yersilf," cried O'Connor indignantly. " Ain't I payin* the good woman a compliment, when I say that she had pity on me bashfulness, and came to me help when I was in difficulty ?" " Quite right, 0' Connor ; but let 's have a song if you won't speak." " Would ye thank a cracked tay- kittle for a song ?" said Ned. " Certainly not," replied Peter Logan, who was apt to take things too literally. " Then don't ax me for wan," said the Irishman, " but I '11 do this for ye, messmates : 1 11 read ye the last letter I got from the mistress, just to show ye that her price is beyond all calkerlation." A round of applause followed this offer, as Ned drew forth a much-soiled letter from the breast- pocket of his coat, and carefully unfolding it, spread it on his knee. " It begins," said O'Connor, in a slightly hesitat- ing tone, "with some expressions of a a raither en- dearin' character, that perhaps I may as well pass." 120 THE LIGHTHOUSE. " No, no," shouted the men, " let 's have them all. Out with them, Paddy !" " Well, well, av ye will have them, here they be." " ' GALWAY. " ' My own purty darlin' as has bin my most luved sin' the day we wos man-it, you '11 be grieved to larn that the pig 's gone to its long home.' " Here O'Connor paused to make some parenthetical remarks, with which, indeed, ho interlarded the whole letter. " The pig, you must know, lads, was an old sow as belonged to me wife's gran'-mother, an' besides bein' a sort o' pet o' the family, was an uncommon profitable crature. But to purceed. She goes on to say, " ' We waked her' (that 's the pig, boys) ' yisterday, and buried her this mornin'. Big Eory, the baist, wos for aitin' her, but I wouldn't hear of it ; so she's at rest, an' so is old Molly Mallone. She wint away just two minutes be the clock before the pig, and wos burried the day afther. There 's no more news as I knows of in the parish, except that your old flame Mary got married to Teddy O'Eook, an' they Ve been fightin' tooth an' nail ever since, as I towld ye they would long ago. No man could live wid that woman. But the schoolmaster, good man, has let me off the cow. Ye see, darlin', T towld him THE LIGHTHOUSE. 121 ye wos buildin' a palace in the say, to put ships in afther they wos wrecked on the coast of Ameriky, so ye couldn't be expected to send home much money at prisint. An' he just said, ' Well, well, Kathleen, you may just kaip the cow, and pay me whin ye can.' So put that off yer mind, my swait Ned. " ' I 'm sorry to hear the Faries rowls so bad, though what the Faries mains is more nor I can tell' (I spelled the word quite krect, lads, but my poor mistress hain't got the best of eyesight.) ' Let me know in yer nixt, an' be sure to tell me if Long Forsyth has got the bitter o' say-sickness. I'm koorius about this, bekaise I've got a receipt for that same that 's infallerable, as his Eiverence says. Tell him, with my luv, to mix a spoonful o' pepper, an' two o' salt, an' wan o' mustard, an' a glass o' whisky in a taycup, with a sprinklin' o' ginger ; fill it up with goat's milk, or ass's, av ye can't git goat's ; hait it in a pan, an' drink it as hot as he can hotter, if possible. I niver tried it meself, but they say it 's a suverin' remidy ; and if it don't do no good, it 's not likely to do much harm, bein' but a waik mixture. Me own belaif is, that the milk 's a mistake, but I suppose the doctors know best. " ' Now, swaitest of men, I must stop, for Neddy 's just come in howlin' like a born Turk for his tay ; &o no more at present from, yours till deth, " ' KATHLEEN O'CONNOR.' * 122 THE LIGHTHOUSK. " Has she any sisters ? " inquired Joe Dumsby eagerly, as Ned folded the letter and replaced it in his pocket. " Six of 'em," replied Ned ; " every one purtier and better nor another." " Is it a long way to Galway ? " continued Joe. " Not long ; but it 's a coorious thing that English- men never come back from them parts whin they wance ventur' into them." Joe was about to retort when the men called for another song. " Come, Jamie Dove, let 's have ' Eule, Bri- tannia.' " Dove was by this time quite yellow in the face, and felt more inclined to go to bed than to sing ; but he braced himself up, resolved to struggle man - fully against the demon that oppressed him. It was in vain ! Poor Dove had just reached that point in the chorus where Britons stoutly affirm that they " never, never, never shall be slaves," when a tremendous roll of the vessel caused him to spring from the locker, on which he sat, and rush to his berth. There were several of the others whose sell'- re- straint was demolished by this example ; these' likewise fled, amid the laughter of their companions, who broke up the meeting and went on deck. The prospect of things there proved, beyond all THE LIGHTHOUSE. 123 doubt, that Britons never did, and never will, rule the waves. The storm, which had been brewing for some time past, was gathering fresh strength every moment, and it became abundantly evident that the floating- light would have her anchors and cables tested pretty severely before the gale was over. About eight o'clock in the evening the wind shifted to east-south-east ; and at ten it became what seamen term a hard gale, rendering it neces- sary to veer out about fifty additional fathoms of the hempen cable. The gale still increasing, the ship rolled and laboured excessively, and at mid- night eighty fathoms more were veered out, while the sea continued to strike the vessel with a degree of force that no one had before experienced. That night there was little rest on board the " Pharos." Every one who has been " at sea " knows what it is to lie in one's berth on a stormy night, with the planks of the deck only a few inches from one's nose, and the water swashing past the little port that always leaks ; the seas striking against the ship ; the heavy sprays falling on the decks ; and the constant rattle and row of blocks, spars, and cordage overhead. But all this was as nothing compared with the state of things on board the floating-light, for that vessel could not rise to the seas with the comparatively free 124 THE LIGHTHOUSE. motions of a ship, sailing either with or against the gale. She tugged and strained at her cable, as if with the fixed determination of breaking it, and she offered all the opposition of a fixed body to the seas. Daylight, though ardently longed for, brought no relief. The gale continued with unabated violence. The sea struck so hard upon the vessel's bows that it rose in great quantities, or, as Ruby expressed it, in " green seas," which completely swept the deck as far aft as the quarter-deck, and not unfrequently went completely over the stern of the ship. Those " green seas" fell at last so heavily on the skylights that all the glass was driven in, and the water poured down into the cabins, producing dire consternation in the minds of those below, who thought that the vessel was sinking. " I 'm drowned intirely," roared poor Ned O'Con- nor, as the- first of those seas burst in and poured straight down on his hammock, which happened to be just beneath the skylight. Ned sprang out on the deck, missed his footing, and was hurled with the next roll of the ship into the arms of the steward, who was passing through the place at the time. Before any comments could be made the dead- lights were put on, and the cabins were involved in almost absolute darkness. A HEAVY SEA. PAGE 125. THE LIGHTHOUSE. 125 " Och ! let me in beside ye," pleaded Ned with the occupant of the nearest berth. " Awa' wi' ye ! Na, na," cried John Watt, push- ing the unfortunate man away. " Cheinge yer wat claes first, an' I '11 maybe let ye in, if ye can find me again i' the dark." While the Irishman was groping about in search of his chest, one of the officers of the ship passed him on his way to the companion-ladder, intending to go on deck. Euby Brand, feeling uncomfortable below, leaped out of his hammock and followed him. They had both got about half-way up the ladder when a tremendous sea struck the ship, causing it to tremble from stem to stern. At the same moment some one above opened the hatch, and putting his head down, shouted for the officer, who happened to be just ascending. " Ay, ay," replied the individual in question. Just as he spoke, another heavy sea fell on the deck, and, rushing aft like a river that has burst its banks, hurled the seamen into, the arms of the officer, who fell back upon Euby, and all three came down with tons of water into the cabin. The scene that followed would have been ludi- crous, had it not been serious. The still rising sea caused the vessel to roll with excessive violence, and the large quantity of water that had burst in swept the men, who had jumped out of their beds, 126 THE LIGHTHOUSE. and all movable things, from side to side in inde- scribable confusion. As the water dashed up into the lower tier of beds, it was found necessary to lift one of the scuttles in the floor, and let it flow into the limbers of the ship. Fortunately no one was hurt, and Euby succeeded in gaining the deck before the hatch was reclosed and fastened down upon the scene of discomfort and misery below. This state of things continued the whole day. The seas followed in rapid succession, and each, as it struck the vessel, caused her to shake all o\er. At each blow from a wave the rolling and pitching ceased for a few seconds, giving the impression that the ship had broken adrift, and was running with the wind, or in the act of sinking ; but when another sea came, she ranged up against it with great force. This latter effect at last became the regular intima- tion to the anxious men below that they were still riding safely at anchor. No fires could be lighted, therefore nothing could be cooked, so that the men were fain to eat hard biscuits those of them at least who were able to eat at all and lie in their wet blankets all day. At ten in the morning the wind had shifted to north-east, and blew, if possible, harder than before, accompanied by a much heavier swell of the sea ; it was therefore judged advisable to pay out more THE LIGHTHOUSE. 127 cable, in order to lessen the danger of its giving way. During the course of the gale nearly the whole length of the hempen cable, of 120 fathoms, was veered out, besides the chain- moorings, and, for its preservation, the cable was carefully "served," or wattled, with pieces of canvas round the windlass, and with leather well greased in the hause-hole, where the chafing was most violent. As may readily be imagined, the gentleman on whom rested nearly all the responsibility connected with the work at the Bell Rock, passed an anxious and sleepless time in his darkened berth. During the morning he had made an attempt to reach the deck, but had been checked by the same sea that produced the disasters above described. About two o'clock in the afternoon great alarm was felt in consequence of a heavy sea that struck the ship, almost filling the waist, and pouring down into the berths below, through every chink and crevice of the hatches and skylights. From the motion being suddenly checked or deadened, and from the flowing in of the water above, every indi- vidual on board thought that the ship was foundering at least all the landsmen were fully impressed with that idea. Mr. Stevenson could not remain below any longer. As soon as the ship again began to range up to the 128 THE LIGHTHOUSE. sea, he made another effort to get on deck. Before going, however, he went through the various apart- ments, in order to ascertain the state of things below. Groping his way in darkness from his own cabin, he came to that of the officers of the ship. Here all was quiet, as well as dark. He next entered the galley and other compartments occupied by the arti- ficers ; here also all was dark, but not quiet, for several of the men were engaged in prayer, or repeating psalms in a full tone of voice, while others were protesting that if they should be fortunate enough to get once more ashore, no one should ever see them afloat again ; but so loud was the creaking of the bulk-heads, the dashing of water, and the whistling noise of the wind, that it was hardly pos- sible to distinguish words or voices. The master of the vessel accompanied Mr. Steven- son, and, in one or two instances, anxious and re- peated inquiries were made by the workmen as to the state of things on deck, to all of which he returned one characteristic answer " It can't blow long in this way, lads ; we must have better weather soon." The next compartment in succession, moving forward, was that allotted to the seamen of the ship. Here there was a characteristic difference in the Bcena Having reached the middle of the darksome THE LIGHTHOUSE. 129 tierth without the inmates being aware of the intru- sion, the anxious engineer was somewhat reassured and comforted to find that, although they talked of bad weather and cross accidents of the sea, yet the conversation was carried on in that tone and manner which bespoke ease and composure of mind. " Well, lads," said Mr. Stevenson, accosting the men, " what think you of this state of things ? Will the good ship weather it ?" " Nae fear o' her, sir," replied one confidently, " she '& light and new ; it 11 tak' a heavy sea to sink her." " Ay," observed another, " and she 's got little hold o' the water, good ground-tackle, and no top-hamper ; she'll weather anything, sir." Having satisfied himself that all was right below, Mr. Stevenson returned aft and went on deck, where a sublime and awful sight awaited him. The waves appeared to be what we hear sometimes termed "mountains high." In reality they were perhaps about thirty feet of unbroken water in height, their foaming crests being swept and torn by the furious gale. All beyond the immediate neighbourhood of the ship was black and chaotic. Upon deck everything movable was out of sight, having either been stowed away below previous to the gale, or washed overboard. Some parts of the quarter bulwarks were damaged by the breach 130 THE LIGHTHOUSE. of the sea, and one of the boats was broken, and half full of water. There was only one solitary individual on deck, placed there to watch and give the alarm if the cable should give way, and this man was Euby Brand, who, having become tired of having nothing to do, had gone on deck, as we have seen, and volunteered his services as watchman. Euby had no great-coat on, no over-all of any kind, but was simply dressed in his ordinary jacket and trousers. He had thrust his cap into his pocket in order to prevent it being blown away, and his brown locks were streaming in the wind. He stood just aft the foremast, to which he had lashed himself with a gasket or small rope round his waist, to pre- vent his falling on the deck or being washed over- board. He was as thoroughly wet as if he had been drawn through the sea, and this was one reason why he was so lightly clad, that he might wet as few clothes as possible, and have a dry change when he went below. There appeared to be a smile on his lips as he faced the angry gale and gazed steadily out upon the wild ocean. He seemed to be enjoying the sight of the grand elemental strife that was going on around him. Perchance he was thinking of some one not very far away with golden hair ! Mr. Stevenson, coupling this smile on Euby's face THE LIGHTHOUSE. 131 with the remarks of the other seamen, felt that things were not so bad as they appeared to unaccus- tomed eyes, nevertheless he deemed it right to ad- vise with the master and officers as to the probable result, in the event of the ship drifting from her moorings. " It is my opinion," said the master, on his being questioned as to this, " that we have every chance of riding out the gale, which cannot continue many hours longer with the same fury ; and even if she should part from her anchor, the storm-sails have been laid ready to hand, and can be bent in a very short time. The direction of the wind being nor'- east, we could sail up the Forth to Leith Koads; but if this should appear doubtful, after passing the May we can steer for Tyningham Sands, on the western side of Dunbar, and there run the ship ashore. From the flatness of her bottom and the strength of her build, I should think there would be no danger in beaching her even in a very heavy sea." This was so far satisfactory, and for some time things continued in pretty much the state we have just described, but soon after there was a sudden cessation of the straining motion of the ship which surprised every one. In another moment Ruby shouted " All hands a-hoy ! ship's adrift !" The consternation that followed may be conceived but not described. The windlass was instantly 132 THE LIGHTHOUSE. manned, and the men soon gave out that there was no strain on the cable. The mizzen-sail, which was occasionally bent for the purpose of making the ship ride easily, was at once set; the other sails were hoisted as quickly as possible, and they bore away about a mile to the south-westward, where, at a spot that was deemed suitable, the best-bower anchor was let go in twenty fathoms water. Happily the storm had begun to abate before this accident happened. Had it occurred during the height of the gale, the result might have been most disastrous to the undertaking at the Bell Bock. Having made all fast, an attempt was made to kindle the galley-fire and cook some food. "Wot are we to 'ave, steward?" inquired Joe Dumsby, in a feeble voice. "Plumduff, my boy, so cheer up," replied the steward, who was busy with the charming ingredients of a suet-pudding, which was the only dish to be attempted, owing to the ease with which it could be both cooked and served up. Accordingly, the suet-pudding was made; the men began to eat ; the gale began to " take off," as seamen express it ; and, although things were still very far removed from a state of comfort, they began to be more endurable ; health began to return to the sick, and hope to those who had previously given way to despair. CHAPTEK XII. BELL BOOK BILLOWS AN UNEXPECTED VISIT A DISASTER AND A RESCUE. IT is pleasant, it is profoundly enjoyable, to sit on the margin of the sea during the dead calm that not unfrequently succeeds a wild storm, and watch the gentle undulations of the glasslike surface, which the very gulls seem to be disinclined to ruffle with their wings as they descend to hover above their own reflected images. It is pleasant to watch this from the shore, where the waves fall in low murmuring ripples, or from the ship's deck, far out upon the sea, where there is no sound of water save the laving of the vessel's bow as she rises and sinks in the broad- backed swell; but there is something more than pleasant, there is something deeply and peculiarly interesting, in the same scene when viewed from such a position as the Bell Rock ; for there, owing to the position of the rock and the depth of water around it, the observer beholds, at the same moment, the presence, as it were, of storm and calm. ) 34 THE LIGHTHOUSE. The largest waves there are seen immediately after a storm has passed away, not during its con- tinuance, no matter how furious the gale may have been, for the rushing wind has a tendency to blow down the waves, so to speak, and prevent their rising to their utmost height. It is when the storm is over that the swell rises ; but as this swell appears only like large undulations, it does not impress the beholder with its magnitude until it draws near to the rock and begins to feel the checking influence of the bottom of the sea. The upper part of the swell, having then greater velocity than the lower part, assumes more and more the form of a billow. As it comes on it towers up like a great green wall of glittering glass, moving with a grand, solemn motion, which does not at first give the idea of much force or impetus. As it nears the rock, however, its height (probably fifteen or twenty feet) becomes apparent ; its velocity increases ; the top, with what may be termed gentle rapidity, rushes in advance of the base ; its dark green side becomes concave ; the upper edge lips over, then curls majestically down- wards, as if bowing to a superior power, and a gleam of light flashes for a moment on the curling top. As yet there is no sound ; all has occurred in the profound silence of the calm, but another instant and there is a mighty crash a deafening roar ; the great wall of water has fallen, and a very sea of THE LIGHTHOUSE. 135 churning foam comes leaping, bursting, spouting over rocks and ledges, carrying all before it with a tre- mendous sweep that seems to be absolutely irresis- tible until it meets the higher ledges of rock, when it is hurled back, and retires with a watery hiss that suggests the idea of baffled rage. But it is not conquered. With the calm majesty of unalterable determination, wave after wave comes on, in slow, regular succession, like the inexhaus- tible battalions of an unconquerable foe, to meet with a similar repulse again and again. There is*, however, this peculiar difference between the waves on the ordinary seashore and the billows on the Bell Eock, that the latter, unlike the former, are not always defeated. The spectator on shore plants his foot confidently at the very edge of the mighty sea, knowing that " thus far it may come, but no further." On the Bell Eock the rising tide makes the conflict, for a time, more equaL Now, the rock stands proudly above the sea : anon the sea sweeps furiously over the rock with a roar of "Victory!" Thus the war goes on, and thus the tide of battle daily and nightly ebbs and flows all the year round. But when the cunning hand of man began to interfere, the aspect of things was changed, the sea was forced to succumb, and the rock, once a dreaded 136 THE LIGHTHOUSE. enemy, became a servant of the human race. True the former rages in rebellion still, and the latter, although compelled to uphold the light that warns against itself, continues its perpetual warfare with the sea ; but both are effectually conquered by means of the wonderful intelligence that God has given to man, and the sea for more than half a century has vainly beat against the massive tower whose founda- tion is on the Bell Rock. But all this savours somewhat of anticipation. Let us return to Ruby Brand, in whose interest we have gone into this long digression ; for" he it was who gazed intently at the mingled scene of storm and calm which we have attempted to describe, and it was he who thought out most of the ideas which we have endeavoured to convey. Ruby had lent a hand to work the pump at the foundation-pit that morning. After a good spell at it he took his turn of rest, and, in order to enjoy it fully, went as far out as he could upon the seaward ledges, and sat down on a piece of rock to watch the waves. While seated there, Robert Selkirk came and sat down beside him. Selkirk was the principal builder, and ultimately laid every stone of the lighthouse with his own hand. He was a sedate, quiet man, but full of energy and perseverance. When the stones were landed faster than they could be built THE LIGHTHOUSE. 137 into their places, he and Bremner, as well as some of the other builders, used to work on until the rising tide reached their waists. " It 's a grand sight, Ruby," said Selkirk, as a larger wave than usual fell, and caine rushing in torrents of foam up to their feet, sending a little of the spray over their heads. " It is indeed a glorious sight," said Ruby. " If I had nothing to do, I believe I could sit here all day just looking at the waves and thinking." " Thinkin' !" repeated Selkirk, in a musing tone of voice. " Can ye tell, lad, what ye think about when you 're lookin' at the waves ?" Ruby smiled at the oddness of the question. " Well," said he, " I don't think I ever thought of that before." " Ah, but I have !" said the other, " an' I've come to the conclusion that for the most part we don't think, properly speakin', at all ; that our thoughts, so to speak, think for us ; that they just take the bit in their teeth and go rumblin' and tumblin' about anyhow or nohow !" Ruby knitted his brows and pondered. He was one of those men who, when they don't understand a thing, hold their tongues and think. " And," continued Selkirk, " it's curious to observe what a lot o' nonsense one thinks too when one is lookin' at the waves. Many a time I have pulled 138 THE LIGHTHOUSE. myself up, thinkin' the most astonishin' stuff ye could imagine." "I would hardly have expected this of such a grave kind o' man as you," said Ruby. " Mayhap not. It is not always the gravest look- ing that have the gravest thoughts." " But you don't mean to say that you never think sense," continued Ruby, "when you sit looking at the waves ?" " By no means," returned his companion ; " I 'm only talking of the way in which one's thoughts will wander. Sometimes 1 think seriously enough. Sometimes I think it strange that men can look at such a scene as that, and scarcely bestow a thought upon Him who made it." " Speak for yourself, friend," said Ruby, somewhat quickly ; " how know you that other men don't think about their Creator when they look at His works?" "Because," returned Selkirk, "I find that I so seldom do so myself, even although I wish to and often try to ; and I hold that every man, no matter what he is or feels, is one of a class who think and feel as he does ; also, because many people, especially Christians, have told me that they have had the same experience to a large extent ; also, and chiefly, because, as far as unbelieving man is concerned, the Bible tells me that ' God is not in all his thoughts.' But, Ruby, I did not make the remark as a slur upon THE LIGHTHOUSE. 139 fnen in general, I merely spoke of a fact, an unfor- tunate fact, that it is not natural to us, ancl not easy, to rise from nature to nature's God, and I thought you would agree with me." " I believe you are right," said Ruby, half-ashamed of the petulance of his reply ; " at any rate, I confess you are right as far as I am concerned" As Selkirk and Euby were both fond of discus- sion, they continued this subject some time longer, and there is no saying how far they would have gone down into the abstruse depths of theology, had not their converse been interrupted by the appearance of a boat rowing towards the rock " Is yonder craft a fishing-boat, think you ?" said Euby, rising and pointing to it. " Like enough, lad. Mayhap it's the pilot's, only it's too soon for him to be off again with letters. Maybe it 's visitors to the rock, for I see something like a woman's bonnet." As there was only one woman in the world at that time as far as Ruby was concerned, (of course putting his mother out of the question !) it will not surprise the reader to be told that the youth started, that his cheek reddened a little, and his heart beat somewhat faster than usuaL He immediately smiled, however, at the absurdity of supposing it possible that the woman in the boat could be Minnie, and as the blacksmith shouted to him at that moment, he 140 THE LIGHTHOUSE. turned on his heel and leaped from ledge to ledge of rock until he gained his wonted place at the forge. Soon he was busy wielding the fore-hammer, causing the sparks to fly about himself and his comrade in showers, while the anvil rang out its merry peaL Meanwhile the boat drew near. It turned out to be a party of visitors, who had come off from Arbroath to see the operations at the Bell Eock. They had been brought off by Spink the pilot, and numbered only three namely, a tall soldier-like man, a stout sailor-like man, and a young woman with yes, with golden hair ! Poor Euby almost leaped over the forge when he raised his eyes from his work and caught sight of Minnie's sweet face. Minnie had recognised her lover before the boat reached the rock, for he stood on an elevated ledge, and the work in which he was engaged, swinging the large hammer round his shoulder, rendered him very conspicuous. She had studiously concealed her face from him until quite close, when, looking him straight in the eyes with- out the least sign of recognition, she turned away. We have said that the first glance Euby obtained caused him to leap nearly over the forge ; the second created such a revulsion of feeling that he let the fore- hammer fall. THE LIGHTHOUSE. 141 " Hallo ! Got a spark in yer eye ? " inquired Dove, looking up anxiously. It flashed across Ruby at that instant that the look given him by Minnie was meant to warn Vn'm not to take any notice of her, so he answered the smith's query with " No, no ; I Ve only let the hammer fall, don't you see ? Get on, old boy, an' don't let the metal cooL" The smith continued his work without further re- mark, and Euby assisted, resolving in his own mind to be a little more guarded as to the expression of his feelings. Meanwhile Mr. Stevenson received the visitors, and showed them over the works, pointing out the peculiarities thereof, and the difficulties that stood in the way. Presently he came towards the forge, and said, " Brand, the stout gentleman there wishes to speak to you. He says he knew you in Arbroath. You can spare him for a few minutes, I suppose, Mr. Dove ?" " Well, yes, but not for long," replied the smith. " The tide will soon be up, and I 've enough to do to get through with all these." Euby flung down his hammer at the first word, and hastened to the ledge of rock where the visitors were standing, as far apart from the workmen as the space of the rock would admit of. The stout gentleman was no other than his uncle, 142 THE LIGHTHOUSE. Captain Ogilvy, who put his finger to his lips as his nephew approached, and gave him a look of mystery that was quite sufficient to put the latter on his guard. He therefore went forward, pulled off his cap, and bowed respectfully to Minnie, who replied with a stiff curtsey, a slight smile, and a decided blush. Although Euby now felt convinced that they were all acting a part, he could scarcely bear this cold reception. His impulse was to seize Minnie in his arms ; but he did not even get the comfort of a cold shake of the hand. " Nephy," said the captain in a hoarse whisper, putting his face close to that of Ruby, " mum 's the word ! Silence, mystery, an' all that sort o' thing. Don't appear to be an old Mend, lad ; and as to Minnie here ' no, we never mention her, Her name it's never heard.' Allow me to introduce you to Major Stewart, whose house you broke into, you know, Euby, when ' All in the Downs the fleet was moored,' at least when the ' Termagant ' was waitin' for you to go aboard." Here the captain winked, and gave Ruby a facetious poke in the ribs, which was not quite in harmony with the ignorance of each other he was endeavouring to inculcate. THE LIGHTHOUSE. 143 ' " Young man," said the major quietly, " we have come off to tell you that everything is in a prosperous state as regards the investigation into your inno- cence the private investigation I mean, for the authorities happily know nothing of your being here. Captain Ogilvy has made me his confidant in this matter, and from what he tells me I am convinced that you had nothing to do with this robbery. Excuse me if I now add that the sight of your face deepens this conviction." Ruby bowed to the compliment. " We were anxious to write at once to the captain of the vessel in which you sailed," continued the major, " but you omitted to leave his full name and address when you left We were afraid to write to you, lest your name on the letter might attract attention, and induce a premature arrest. Hence our visit to the rock to-day. Please to write the address in this pocket-book." The major handed Euby a small green pocket- book as he spoke, in which the latter wrote the full name and address of his late skipper. " Now, nephy," said the captain, " we must, I 'm sorry to say, bid ye good-day, and ask you to return to your work, for it won't do to rouse suspicion, lad Only keep quiet here, and do yer dooty ' England ex- pects every man to do his dooty ' and as sure as your name's Ruby all will be ship- shape in a few weeks." 144 THE LIGHTHOUSE. " I thank you sincerely," said Ruby, addressing the major, but looking at Minnie. Captain Ogilvy observing this, and fearing some display of feeling that would be recognised by the workmen, who were becoming surprised at the length of the interview, placed himself between Minnie and her lover. " No, no, Ruby," said he, solemnly. " I 'm sorry for ye, lad, but it won't do. Patience is a virtue, which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune." " My mother ? " said Ruby, wishing to prolong the interview. " Is well," said the captain. " Now, goodbye, lad, and be off." " Goodbye, Minnie," cried Ruby, stepping forward suddenly and seizing the girl's hand ; then, wheeling quickly round, he sprang over the rocks, and returned to his post " Ha ! it 's time," cried the smith. " I thought you would never be done makin' love to that there girl Come, blaze away !" Ruby felt so nettled by the necessity that was laid upon him of taking no notice of Minnie, that he seized the handle of the bellows passionately, and at the first puff blew nearly all the fire away. " Hallo ! messmate," cried the smith, clearing the dust from his eyes; "what on airth ails ye ? You've bio wed the whole consarn out !" THE LIGHTHOUSE. 145 . Kuby made no reply, but, scraping together the embers, heaped them up and blew more gently. In a short time the visitors re- entered their boat, and rowed out of the creek in which it had been lying. Ruby became so exasperated at not being able even to watch the boat going away, that he showered terrific blows on the mass of metal the smith was turning rapidly on the anvil " Not so fast, lad; not so fast," cried Dove hurriedly. Ruby's chafing spirit blew up just at that point ; he hit the iron a crack that knocked it as flat as a pancake, and then threw down the hammer and de- liberately gazed in the direction of the boat. The sight that met his eyes appalled him. The boat had been lying in the inlet named Port Steven- son. It had to pass out to the open sea through Wilson's Track, and past a small outlying rock named Gray's Rock known more familiarly among the men as Johnny Gray. The boat was nearing this point, when the sea, which had been rising for some time, burst completely over the seaward ledges, and swept the boat high against the rocks on the left. The men had scarcely got her again into the track when another tremendous billow, such as we have already described, swept over the rocks again and swamped the boat, which, being heavily ballasted, sank at once to the bottom of the pool. 146 THE LIGHTHOUSE. It was this sight that met the horrified eyes of Ruby when he looked up. He vaulted over the bellows like an antelope, and, rushing over Smith's Ledge and Trinity Ledge, sprang across Port Boyle, and dived head foremost into NeilTs Pool before any of the other men, who made a general rush, could reach the spot. A few powerful strokes brought Ruby to the place where the major and the captain, neither of whom could swim, were struggling in the water. He dived at once below these unfortunates, and almost in a second, reappeared with Minnie in his arms. A few seconds sufficed to bring him to the edge of Smith's Ledge, where several of his comrades hauled him and his burden beyond the reach of the next wave, and where, a moment or two later, the major and captain with the crew of the boat were landed in safety. To bear the light form of Minnie in his strong arms to the highest and driest part of the rock was the work of a few moments to Ruby. Brief though those moments were, however, they were precious to the youth beyond all human powers of calculation, for Minnie recovered partial consciousness, and fancy- ing, doubtless, that she was still in danger, flung her arms round his neck, and grasped him convulsively. Reader, we tell you in confidence that if Ruby had at that moment been laid on the rack and torn limb THE LIGHTHOUSE. 147 from limb, he would have cheered out his life triumphantly. It was not only that he knew she loved him that he knew before, but he had saved the life of the girl he loved, and a higher terrestrial happiness can scarcely be attained by man. Laying her down as gently as a mother would her first-born, Euby placed a coat under her head, and bade his comrades stand back and give her air. It was fortunate for him that one of the foremen, who understood what to do, came up at this moment, and ordered him to leave off chafing the girl's hand with his wet fists, and go get some water boiled at the forge if he wanted to do her good. Second words were not needed. The bellows were soon blowing, and the fire glowed in a way that it had not done since the works at the Bell Eock began. Before the water quite boiled some tea was put in, and, with a degree of speed that would have roused the jealousy of any living waiter, a cup of tea was presented to Minnie, who had recovered almost at the moment Kuby left her. She drank a little, and then closing her eyes, moved her lips silently for a few seconds. Captain Ogilvy, who had attended her with the utmost assiduity and tenderness as soon as he had wrung the water out of his own garments, here took an opportunity of hastily pouring something into the cup out of a small flask. When Minnie looked 148 THE LIGHTHOUSE. up again and smiled, he presented her with the cup. She thanked him, and drank a mouthful or two before perceiving that it had been tampered with. " There 's something in it," she said hurriedly. " So there is, my pet," said the captain, with a benignant smile, " a little nectar, that will do you more good than all the tea. Come now, don't shake your head, but down with it all, like a good child." But Minnie was proof against persuasion, and re- fused to taste any more. " Who was it that saved me, uncle ?" (She had got into the way of calling the captain ' uncle.') "Euby Brand did it, my darlin'," said the old man with a look of pride. " Ah ! you 're better now; stay, don't attempt to rise." " Yes, yes, uncle," she said, getting up and looking round, " it is time that we should go now ; we have a long way to go, you know. Where is the boat ?" " The boat, my precious, is at the bottom of the sea." As he said this, he pointed to the mast, half of which was seen rising out of the pool where the boat had gone down. "But you don't need to mind," continued the captain, " for they 're goin' to send us in one o' their own boats aboord the floatin' lightship, where we '11 get a change o' clothes an' somethin' to eat." As he spoke, one of the sailors came forward and THE LIGHTHOCSE. 149 .announced that the boat was ready, so the captain and the major assisted Minnie into the boat, which soon pushed off with part of the workmen from the rock It was to be sent back for the remainder of the crew, by which time the tide would render it necessary that all should leave. Euby purposely kept away from the group while they were embarking, and after they were gone pro- ceeded to resume work. " You took a smart dive that time, lad," observed Joe Dumsby as they went along. " Not more than any one would do for a girl," said Euby. " An' such a purty wan, too,", said O'Connor. " Ah ! av she 's not Irish, she should ha' bin." " Ye 're a lucky chap to hae sic a chance," observed John Watt. " Make up to her, lad," said Forsyth ; " I think she couldn't refuse ye after doin' her such service." " Time enough to chaff after work is over," cried Euby with a laugh, as he turned up his sleeves, and, seizing the hammer, began, as his friend Dove said, " to work himself dry." In a few minutes, work was resumed, and for another hour all continued busy as bees, cutting and pounding at the flinty surface of the Bell Eock. CHAPTER XIII. A SLEEPLESS BUT A PLEASANT NIGHT. THE evening which followed the day that has just been described was bright, calm, and beautiful, with the starry host unclouded and distinctly visible to the profoundest depths of space. As it was intended to send the " Smeaton" to Arbroath next morning for a cargo of stones from the building-yard, the wrecked party were prevailed on to remain all night on board the " Pharos," in- stead of going ashore in one of the ship's boats, which could not well be spared at the time. This arrangement, we need hardly say, gave inex- pressible pleasure to Euby, and was not altogether distasteful to Minnie, although she felt anxious about Mrs. Brand, who would naturally be much alarmed at the prolonged absence of herself and the captain. However, " there was no help for it ;" and it was wonderful the resignation which she displayed in the circumstances. It was not Ruby's duty to watch on deck that THE LIGHTHOUSE. 151 night, yet, strange to say, Kuby kept watch the whole night long ! There was no occasion whatever for Minnie to go on deck after it was dark, yet, strange to say, Minnie kept coming on deck at intervals nearly the whole night long ! Sometimes to " look at the stars/' sometimes to " get a mouthful of fresh air," frequently to find out what "that strange noise could be that had alarmed her," and at last- especially towards the early hours of morning for no reason whatever, except that " she could not sleep below." It was very natural that when Minnie paced the quarter-deck between the stern and the main-mast, and Euby paced the fore-part of the deck between the bows and the main-mast, the two should occa- sionally meet at the main-mast. It was also very natural that when they did meet, the girl who had been rescued should stop and address a few words of gratitude to the man who had saved her. But it was by no means natural, nay, it was altogether unnatural and unaccountable, that, when it became dark, the said man and the said girl should get into a close and confidential conversation, which lasted for hours, to the amusement of Captain Ogilvy and the major, who quite understood it, and to the amazement of many of the ship's crew, who couldn't understand it at all 152 THE LIGHTHOUSE. At last Minnie bade Ruby a final good-night and went below, and Ruby, who could not persuade him- self that it was final, continued to walk the deck until his eyes began to shut and open involuntarily like those of a sick owl. Then he also went below, and, before he fell quite asleep (according to his own impression), was awakened by the bell that called the men to land on the rock and commence work. It was not only Ruby who found it difficult to rouse himself that morning. The landing-bell was rung at four o'clock, as the tide suited at that early hour, but the men were so fatigued that they would gladly have slept some hours longer. This, however, the nature of the service would not admit of. The building of the Bell Rock Lighthouse was a peculiar service. It may be said to have resembled duty in the trenches in military warfare. At times the work was light enough, but for the most part it was severe and irregular, as the men had to work in all kinds of weather, as long as possible, in the face of unusual difficulties and dangers, and were liable to be called out at all unseasonable hours. But they knew and expected this, and faced the work like men. After a growl or two, and a few heavy sighs, they all tumbled out of their berths, and, in a very short time, were mustered on deck, where a glass of rum and a biscuit were -served to each, being the regular allowance when they had to begin work before THE LIGHTHOUSE. 153 'breakfast. Then they got into the boats and rowed away. Ruby's troubles were peculiar on this occasion. He could not bear the thought of leaving the "Pharos" without saying goodbye to Minnie; but as Minnie knew nothing of such early rising, there was no reasonable hope that she would be awake. Then he wished to put a few questions to his uncle which he had forgotten the day before, but his uncle was at that moment buried in profound repose, with his mouth wide open, and a trombone solo proceeding from his nose, which sadly troubled the unfortunates who lay near him. As there was no way of escape from these diffi- culties, Ruby, like a wise man, made up his mind to cast them aside, so, after swallowing his allowance, he shouldered his big bellows, heaved a deep sigh, and took his place in one of the boats alongside. The lassitude which strong men feel when ob- liged to rise before they have had enough of rest soon wears off. The two boats had not left the " Pharos" twenty yards astern, when Joe Dumsby cried, " Ho ! boys, let 's have a race." " Hooray !" shouted O'Connor, whose elastic spirits were always equal to anything, " an* sure Ruby will sing us ' The girl we Ve left behind us.' Och ! an' there she is, av I 'in not draymin'." At that moment a little hand was waved from 154 THE LIGHTHOUSE. one of the ports of the floating-light Ruby at once waved his in reply, but as the attention of the men had been directed to the vessel by Ned's remark, each saw the salutation, and, claiming it as a com- pliment to himself, uttered a loud cheer, which ter- minated in a burst of laughter, caused by the sight of Ruby's half-angry, half-ashamed expression of face. As the other boat had shot ahead, however, at th.3 first mention of the word " race," the men forgot thij incident in their anxiety to overtake their comrades. In a few seconds both boats were going at full speed, and they kept it up all the way to the rock. While this was going on, the " Smeaton's " boat was getting ready to take the strangers on board the sloop, and just as the workmen landed on the rock, the " Smeaton " cast loose her sails, and proceeded to Arbroath. There were a few seals basking on the Bell Rock this morning when the men landed. These at once made off, and were not again seen during the day. At first, seals were numerous on the rock. Fre quently from fifty to sixty of them were counted at one time, and they seemed for a good while unwilling to forsake their old quarters, but when the forge was set up they could stand it no longer. Some of the boldest ventured to sun themselves there occasion- ally, but when the clatter of the anvil and the TTIE LTOHTHOUSE. 155 wreaths of smoke became matters of daily occur- rence, they forsook the rock finally, and sought the peace and quiet which man denied them there in other regions of the deep. The building of the lighthouse was attended with difficulties at every step. As a short notice of some of these, and an account of the mode in which the great work was carried on, cannot fail to be interest- ing to all who admire those engineering works which exhibit prominently the triumph of mind over matter, we shall turn aside for a brief space to consider this subject. CHAPTEE XIV. SOMEWHAT STATISTICAL. IT has been already said that the Bell Eock risea only a few feet out of the sea at low tide. The foundation of the tower, sunk into the solid rock, was just three feet three inches above low water of the lowest spring-tides, so that the lighthouse may be said with propriety to be founded beneath the waves. One great point that had to be determined at the commencement of the operations was the best method of landing the stones of the building, this being a delicate and difficult process, in consequence of the weight of the stones and their brittle nature, espe- cially in those parts which were worked to a delicate edge or formed into angular points. As the loss of a single stone, too, would stop the progress of the work until another should be prepared at the work- yard in Arbroath and sent off to the rock, it may easily be imagined that this matter of the landing was of the utmost importance, and that much con- sultation was held in regard to it. THE LIGHTHOUSE. 157 It would seem that engineers, as well as doctors, ire apt to differ. Some suggested that each parti- cular stone should be floated to the rock, with a cork buoy attached to it ; while others proposed an air- tank, instead of the cork buoy. Others, again, proposed to sail over the rock at high water in a flat-bottomed vessel, and drop the stones one after another when over the spot they were intended to occupy. A few, still more eccentric and daring in their views, suggested that a huge coffer-dam or vessel should be built on shore, and as much of the lighthouse built in this as would suffice to raise the building above the level of the highest tides ; that then it should be floated off to its station on the rock, which should be previously prepared for its reception ; that the coffer-dam should be scuttled, and the ponderous mass of masonry, weighing per- haps 1000 tons, allowed to sink at once into its place ! All these plans, however, were rejected by Mr. Stevenson, who resolved to carry the stones to the rock in boats constructed for the purpose. These were named praam-boats. The stones were there- fore cut in conformity with exactly measured moulds in the workyard at Arbroath, and conveyed thence in the sloops already mentioned to the rock, where the vessels were anchored at a distance sufficient to enable them to clear it in case of drifting. The 158 THE LIGHTHOUSE. cargoes were then unloaded at the moorings, and laid on the decks of the praam-boats, which con- veyed them to the rock, where they were laid on small trucks, run along the temporary rails to their positions, and built in at once. Each stone of this building was treated with as much care and solicitude as if it were a living creature. After being carefully cut and curiously formed, and conveyed to the neighbourhood of the rock, it was hoisted out of the hold and laid on the vessel's deck, when it was handed over to the landing-master, whose duty it became to transfer it, by means of a combination of ropes and blocks, to the deck of the praam-boat, and then deliver it at the rock. As the sea was seldom calm during the building operations, and frequently in a state of great agitation, lowering the stones on the decks of the praam-boats was a difficult matter. In the act of working the apparatus, one man was placed at each of the guy-tackles. This man assisted also at the purchase-tackles for raising the stones ; and one of the ablest and most active of the crew was appointed to hold on the end of the fall-tackle, which often required all his strength and his utmost agility in letting go, for the purpose of lowering the stone at the instant the word "lower" was given. In a rolling sea, much depended on the promptitude THE LIGHTHOUSE. 1S9 with which this part of the operation was performed. For the purpose ol securing this, the man who held the tackle placed himself before the mast in a sitting, more frequently in a lying posture, with his feet stretched under the winch and abutting against the mast, as by this means he was enabled to exert his greatest strength. The signal being given in the hold that the tackle was hooked to the stone and all ready, every man took his post, the stone was carefully, we might almost say tenderly raised, and gradually got into position over the praam-boat ; the right moment was intently watched, and the word " lower " given sternly and sharply. The order was obeyed with exact promptitude, and the stone rested on the deck of the praam-boat. Six blocks of granite having been thus placed on the boat's deck, she was rowed to a buoy, and moored near the rock until the proper time of the tide for taking her into one of the land- ing creeks. We are thus particular in describing the details of this part of the work, in order that the reader may be enabled to form a correct estimate of what may be termed the minor difficulties of the under- taking. The same care was bestowed upon the landing of every stone of the building ; and it is worthy of record, that notwithstanding the difficulty of this 160 THE LIGHTHOUSE. process in such peculiar circumstances, not a single stone was lost, or even seriously damaged, during the whole course of the erection of the tower, which occupied four years in building, or rather, we should say, four seasons, for no work was or could be done during winter. A description of the first entire course of the lower part of the tower, which was built solid, will be sufficient to give an idea of the general nature of the whole work. This course or layer consisted of 123 blocks of stone, those in the interior being sandstone, while the outer casing was of granite. Each stone was fastened to its neighbour above, below, and around by means of dovetails, joggles, oaken trenails, and mortar. Each course was thus built from its centre to its circumference, and as all the courses from the foundation to a height of thirty feet were built in this way, the tower, up to that height, became a mass of solid stone, as strong and immovable as the Bell Eock itself. Above this, or thirty feet from the foundation, the entrance door was placed, and the hollow part of the tower began. Thus much, then, as to the tower itself, the upper part of which will be found described in a future chapter. In regard to the subsidiary works, the erection of the beacon-house was in itself a work of considerable difficulty, requiring no common effort THE LIGHTHOUSE. 161 of engineering skilL The principal beams of this having been towed to the rock by the " Smeaton," all the stanchions and other material for setting them up were landed, and the workmen set about erecting them as quickly as possible, for if a single day of bad weather should occur before the necessary fixtures could be made, the whole apparatus would be in- fallibly swept away. The operation being, perhaps, the most important of the season, and one requiring to be done with the utmost expedition, all hands were, on the day in which its erection was begun, gathered on the rock, besides ten additional men engaged for the purpose, and as many of the seamen from the " Pharos" and other vessels as could be spared They amounted altogether to fifty-two in number. About half-past eight o'clock in the morning a derrick, or mast, thirty feet high was erected, and properly supported with guy-ropes for suspending the block for raising the first principal beam of the beacon, and a winch-machine was bolted down to the rock for working the purchase-tackle. The necessary blocks and tackle were likewise laid to hand and properly arranged. The men were seve- rally allotted in squads to different stations ; some were to bring the principal beams to hand, others were to work the tackles, while a third set had the charge of the iron stanchions, bolts, and wedges, so L 162 THE LIGHTHOUSE. that the whole operation of raising the beams and fixing them to the rock might go forward in such a manner that some provision might be made, in any stage of the work, for securing what had been ac- complished, in case of an adverse change of weather. The raising of the derrick was the signal for three hearty cheers, for this was a new era in the opera- tions. Even that single spar, could it be preserved, would have been sufficient to have saved the work- men on that day when the " Smeaton" broke adrift and left them in such peril This was all, however, that could be accomplished that tide. Next day, the great beams, each fifty feet long, and about sixteen inches square, were towed to the rock about seven in the morning, and the work immediately commenced, although they had gone there so much too early in the tide that the men had to work a considerable time up to their middle in water. Each beam was raised by the tackle affixed to the derrick, until the end of it could be placed or " stepped" into the hole which had been previously prepared for its reception ; then two of the great iron stanchions or supports were set into their respective holes on each side of the beam, and a rope passed round them to keep it from slipping, until it could be more permanently fixed. This having been accomplished, the first beam became the means of raising the second, and when THE LIGHTHOUSE. 163 the first and second were fastened at the top, they formed a pair of shears by which the rest were more easily raised to their places. The heads of the beams were then fitted together and secured with ropes in a temporary manner, until the falling of the tide would permit the operations to be resumed. Thus the work went .on) each man labouring with all his might, until this important erection was completed. The raising of the first beams took place on a Sunday. Indeed, during the progress of the works at the Bell Eock, the men were accustomed to work regularly on Sundays when possible ; but it is right to say that it was not done in defiance of, or disregard fco, God's command to cease from labour on the Sabbath-day, but because of the urgent need of a lighthouse on a rock which, unlighted, would be certain to wreck numerous vessels and destroy many lives in time to come, as it had done in time past. Delay in this matter might cause death and disaster, therefore it was deemed right to carry on the work on Sundays.* It was always arranged, however, to have public worship on Sundays when practicable. And this arrangement was held to during the continuance of the work. Indeed, the manner in which Mr. Stevenson writes in regard to the conclusion of the day's work at the beacon, which we have described, shows clearly that he felt himself to be acting in this matter in accordance with the spirit of our Saviour, who wrought many of His works of mercy on the Sabbath-day. Mr. Stevenson writes thus : "All hands having retxirned to their respective ships, they got a 164 THE LIGHTHOUSE. An accident happened during the raising of the last large beam of the beacon, which, although alarming, fortunately caused no damage. Con- sidering the nature of the work, it is amazing, and greatly to the credit of all engaged, that so few accidents occurred during the building of the light- house. When they were in the act of hoisting the sixth and last log, and just about to kant it into its place, the iron hook of the principal purchase-block gave way, and the great beam, measuring fifty feet in length, fell upon the rock with a terrible crash ; but although there were fifty-two men around the beacon at the time, not one was touched, and the beam itself received no damage worth mentioning. Soon after the beacon had been set up, and par- tially secured to the rock, a severe gale sprang up, as if Ocean were impatient to test the handiwork of human engineers. Gales set in from the eastward, compelling the attending sloops to slip from their moorings, and run for the shelter of Arbroath and shift of dry clothes, and some refreshment. Being Sunday, they were afterwards convened by signal on board of the lighthouse yacht, when prayers were read, for every heart upon this occasion felt glad- ness, and every mind was disposed to be thankful for the happy and successful termination of the operations of this day." It is right' to add that the men, although requested were no t con- strained to work on Sundays. They were at liberty to decline if they chose. A few conscientiously refused at first, but were afterwardi convinced of the necessity of working on all opportunities that offered, knd agreed to do so. THE LIGHTHOUSE. 166 St. Andrews, and raising a sea on the Bell Eock which was described as terrific, the spray rising more than thirty feet in the air above it. In the midst of all this turmoil the beacon stood securely, and after the weather moderated, per- mitting the workmen once more to land, it was found that no damage had been done by the tremen- dous breaches of the sea over the rock. That the power of the waves had indeed been very great, was evident from the effects observed on the rock itself, and on materials left there. Masses of rock upwards of a ton in weight had been cast up by the sea, and then, in their passage over the Bell Eock, had made deep and indelible ruts. An anchor of a ton weight, which had been lost on one side of the rock, was found to have been washed up and over it to the other side. Several large blocks of granite that had been landed and left on a ledge, were found to have been swept away like pebbles, and hurled into a hole at some distance, and the heavy hearth of the smith's forge, with the ponderous anvil, had been washed from their places of supposed security. From the time of the setting up of the beacon a new era in the work began. Some of the men were now enabled to remain on the rock all day, working at the lighthouse when the tide was low, and betaking themselves to the beacon when it rose, and leaving 166 THE LIGHTHOUSE. it at night; for there was much to do before this beacon could be made the habitable abode which it finally became ; but it required the strictest attention to the state of the weather, in case of their being overtaken with a gale, which might prevent the possibility of their being taken off the rock. At last the beacon was so far advanced and seem ed that it was deemed capable of withstanding any gale that might blow. As yet it was a great un- gainly pile of logs, iron stanchions, and bracing- chains, without anything that could afford shelter to man from winds or waves, but with a platform laid from its cross-beams at a considerable height above high-water mark. The works on the rock were in this state, when two memorable circumstances occurred in the Bell Bock annals, to which we shall devote a separate chapter. CHAPTER XV RUBY HAS A RISK IN LIFE, AND A FALL. JAMES DOVE, the blacksmith, had, for some time past, been watching the advancing of the beacon- works with some interest, and a good deal of impa- tience. He was tired of working so constantly up to the knees in water, and aspired to a drier and more elevated workshop. One morning he was told by the foreman that orders had been given for him to remove his forge to the beacon, and this removal, this " flitting," as he called it, was the first of the memorable events referred to in the last chapter. " Hallo ! Ruby, my boy," cried the elated son ol Vulcan, as he descended the companion-ladder, " we 're goin' to flit, lad. We 're about to rise in the world, so get up your bellows. It's the last time we shall have to be bothered with them in the boat, I hope." "That's well," said Ruby, shouldering the un- wieldy bellows ; " they have worn my shoulders 1 6b THE LIGHTHOUSE. threadbare, and tried my patience almost beyond endurance." "Well, it's all over now, lad," rejoined the smith. " In future you shall have to blow up in the beacon yonder ; so come along." " Come, Euby, that ought to comfort the cockles o' yer heart," said O'Connor, who passed up the ladder as he spoke ; " the smith won't need to blow you up any more, av* you 're to blow yourself up in the beacon in futur'. Arrah ! there 's the bell again. Sorrow wan o' me iver gits to slape, but I 'm turned up immadiately to go an' poke away at that rock faix, it 's well named the Bell Eock, for it makes me like to bellow me lungs out wid vexation." " That pun is below contempt," said Joe Dumsby, who came up at the moment. "That's yer sort, laddies; ye 're guid at ringing the changes on that head onyway," cried Watt. "I say, we're gittin' a belly -full of it," observed Forsyth, with a rueful look "I hope nobody's goin' to give us another !" " It '11 create a lobellion," said Bremner, " if ye go on like that." " It '11 bring my bellows down on the head o' the next man that speaks !" cried Ruby, with indigna- tion. " Don't you hear the bell, there ?" cried the fore- man down the hatchway. THE LIGHTHOUSE. 169 There was a burst of laughter at this unconscious continuation of the joke, and the men sprang up the ladder, down the side, and into the boats, which were soon racing towards the rock. The day, though not sunny, was calm and agree- able, nevertheless the landing at the rock was not easily accomplished, owing to the swell caused by a recent gale. After one or two narrow escapes of a ducking, however, thp crews landed, and the bellows, instead of being conveyed to their usual place at the forge, were laid at the foot of the beacon. The carriage of these bellows to and fro almost daily had been a subject of great annoyance to the men, owing to their being so much in the way, and so unmanageably bulky, yet so essential to the pro- gress of the works, that they did not dare to leave them on the rock, lest they should be washed away, and they had to handle them tenderly, lest they should get damaged. " Now, boys, lend a hand with the forge," cried the smith, hurrying towards his anvil Those who were not busy eating dulse responded to the call, and in a short time the ponderous materiel of the smithy was conveyed to the beacon, where, in process of time, it was hoisted by means of tackle to its place on the platform to which reference has already been made. When it was safely set up and the bellows placed 170 THE LIGHTHOUSE. in position, Ruby went to the edge of the platform, and, looking down on his comrades below, took off his cap and shouted in the tone of a Stentor, " Now, lads, three cheers for the Dovecot !" This was received with a roar of laughter and three tremendous cheers. " Howld on, boys," cried O'Connor, stretching out his hand as if to command silence ; " you 11 scare the dove from his cot altogether av ye roar like that !" " Surely they 're sendin' us a fire to warm us," observed one of the men, pointing to a boat which had put off from the " Smeaton," and was approach- ing the rock by way of Macurich's Track. " What can 'd be, I wonder ?" said Watt ; " I think I can smell somethin'." " I halways thought you 'ad somethink of an old dog in you," said Dumsby. " Ay, man !" said the Scot with a leer, " I ken o' war beasts than auld dowgs." " Do you ? come let 's 'ear wat they are," said the Englishman. " Young puppies," answered the other. " Hurrah ! dinner, as I 'm a Dutchman," cried Forsyth. This was indeed the case. Dinner had been cooked on board the " Smeaton" and sent hot to the men ; and this, the first dinner ever eaten on THE LIGHTHOUSE. 171 ,the Bell Rock, was the second of the memorable events before referred to. The boat soon ran into the creek and landed the baskets containing the food on Hope's Wharf. The men at once made a rush at the viands and bore them off exultingly to the flattest part of the rock they could find. " A regular pic-nic," cried Dumsby in high glee, for unusual events, of even a trifling kind, had the effect of elating those men more than one might have expected. " Here 's the murphies," cried O'Connor, stagger- ing over the slippery weed with a large smoking tin dish. " Mind you don't let 'em fall," cried one. " Have a care," shouted the smith ; " if you drop them I '11 beat you red-hot, and hammer ye so flat that the biggest flatterer as ever walked won't be able to spread ye out another half-inch." " Mutton ! oh !" exclaimed Forsyth, who had been some time trying to wrench the cover off the basket containing a roast leg, and at last succeeded. " Here, spread them all out on this rock You han't forgot the grog, I hope, steward ?" "No fear of him: he's a good feller is the steward, when he 's asleep partiklerly. The grog 's here all right." "Dinna let Dumsby git haud o't, then," cried 172 THE LIGHTHOUSE. Watt. " What ! hae ye begood a'ready ? Patience, man, patience. Is there ony saut?" " Lots of it, darlin', in the say. Sure this shape must have lost his tail somehow. Och, murther! if there isn't Bobby Selkirk gone an' tumbled into Port Hamilton wid the cabbage, av it's not the carrots !" "There now, don't talk so much, boys," cried Peter Logan. " Let 's drink success to the Bell Eock Lighthouse." It need scarcely be said that this toast was drunk with enthusiasm, and that it was followed up with " three times three." " Now for a song. Come, Joe Dumsby, strike up," cried one of the men. O'Connor, who was one of the most reckless of men in regard to duty and propriety, here shook his head gravely, and took upon himself to read his comrade a lesson. "Ye shouldn't talk o' sitch things in workin' hours," said he. " Av we wos all foolish, waake- hidded cratures like you, how d' ye think we 'd iver git the lighthouse sot up ? Ate yer dinner, lad, and howld yer tongue." " Ned, I didn't think your jealousy would show out so strong," retorted his comrade. " Now, then, Dumsby, fire away, if it was only to aggravate him." THE LIGHTHOUSE. 173 Thus pressed, Joe Dumsby took a deep draught of the small-beer with which the men were supplied, and began a song of his own composition. When the song was finished the meal was also concluded, and the men returned to their labours on the rock ; some to continue their work with the picks at the hard stone of the foundation-pit, others to perform miscellaneous jobs about the rock, such as mixing the mortar and removing debris, while James Dove and his fast friend Euby Brand mounted to their airy " cot" on the beacon, from which in a short time began to proceed the volumes of smoke and the clanging sounds that had formerly arisen from " Smith's Ledge." While they were all thus busily engaged, Euby observed a boat advancing towards the rock from the floating- light. He was blowing the bellows at the time, after a spell at the fore-hammer. "We seem to be favoured with unusual events to-day, Jamie," said he, wiping his forehead with the corner of his apron with one hand, while he worked the handle of the bellows with the other, " yonder comes another boat ; what can it be, think you?" " Surely it can't be tea !" said the smith with a smile, as he turned the end of a pick-axe in the fire, " it 's too soon after dinner for that." " It looks like the boat of our friends the fisher- 174 THE LIGHTHOUSE. men, Big Swankie and Davy Spink," said Euby, shading his eyes with his hand, and gazing earnestly at the boat as it advanced towards them. " Friends !" repeated the smith, " rascally smug- glers, both of them ; they 're no friends of mine." " Well, I didn't mean bosom friends," replied Euby, " but after all, Davy Spink is not such a bad fellow, though I can't say that I 'm fond of his comrade." The two men resumed their hammers at this point in the conversation, and became silent as long as the anvil sounded. The boat had reached the rock when they ceased, and its occupants were seen to be in earnest conver- sation with Peter Logan. There were only two men in the boat besides its owners Swankie and Spink. " What can they want ?" said Dove, looking down on them as he turned to thrust the iron on which he was engaged into the fire. As he spoke the foreman looked up. " Ho ! Euby Brand," he shouted, " come down here j you 're wanted." " Hallo! Euby," exclaimed the smith, "more friends o' yours ! Your acquaintance is extensive, lad, but there 's no girl in the case this time." Euby made no reply, for an indefinable feeling of anxiety filled his breast as he threw down the fore- hammer and prepared to descend. THE LIGHTHOUSE. 175 On reaching the rock he advanced towards the strangers, both of whom were stout, thickset men, with grave, stern countenances. One of them stepped forward and said, " Your name is " Kuby Brand," said the youth promptly, at the same time somewhat proudly, for he knew that he was in the hands of the Philistines. The man who first spoke hereupon drew a small instrument from his pocket, and tapping Euby on the shoulder, said " I arrest you, Euby Brand, in the name of the King." The other man immediately stepped forward and produced a pair of handcuffs. At sight of these Euby sprang backward, and the blood rushed violently to his forehead, while his blue eyes glared with the ferocity of those of a tiger. " Come, lad, it 's of no use, you know," said the man, pausing ; " if you won't come quietly we must find ways and means to compel you." " Compel me !" cried Euby, drawing himself up with a look of defiance and a laugh of contempt, that caused the two men to shrink back in spite of themselves. " Euby," said the foreman, gently,, stepping for- ward and laying his hand on the youth's shoulder, * you h*d better go quietly, for there 's no chance of 176 THE LIGHTHOUSE. escape from these fellows. I have no doubt it 's a mistake, and that you '11 come off with flyin' colours, but it 's best to go quietly whatever turns up." While Logan was speaking, Ruby dropped his head on his breast, the officer with the handcuffs advanced, and the youth held out his hands, while the flush of anger deepened into the crimson blush of shame. It was at this point that Jamie Dove, wondering at the prolonged absence of his friend and assistant, looked down from the platform of the beacon, and beheld what was taking place. The stentorian roar of amazement and rage that suddenly burst from him, attracted the attention of all the men on the rock, who dropped their tools and looked up in consternation, expecting, no doubt, to behold something terrible. Their eyes at once followed those of the smith, and no sooner did they see Ruby being led in irons to the boat, which lay in Port Hamilton, close to Sir Ralph the Rover's Ledge, than they uttered a yell of execration, and rushed with one accord to the rescue. The officers, who were just about to make their prisoner step into the boat, turned to face the foe, one, who seemed to be the more courageous of the two, a little in advance of the other. Ned O'Connor, with that, enthusiasm which seems THE LIGHTHOUSE. 177 to be inherent in Irish blood, rushed with such irre- sistible force against this man that he drove him violently back against his comrade, and sent them both head over heels into Port Hamilton. Nay, with such momentum was this act performed, that Ned could not help but follow them, falling on them both as they came to the surface and sinking them a second time, amid screams and yells of laughter. O'Connor was at once pulled out by his friends. The officers also were quickly landed. " I ax yer parding, gintlemen," said the former, with an expression of deep regret on his face, " but the say-weed is so slippy on them rocks we 're a'most for iver doin' that sort o' thing be the merest accident. But av yer as fond o' cowld wather as meself ye won't objec' to it, although it do come raither on- expected." The officers made no reply, but, collaring Euby, pushed him into the boat. Again the men made a rush, but Peter Logan stood between them and the boat " Lads, 1 ' said he, holding up his hand, "it's of no use resistin' the law. These are King's officers, and they are only doin' their duty. Sure am I that Ruby Brand is guilty of no crime, so they 've only to inquire into it and set him free." The men hesitated, but did not seem quite dis- posed to submit without another struggle. If 178 THE LIGHTHO USE. " It 's a shame to let them take him," cried the smith. " So it is. I vote for a rescue," cried JOG Dumsby. " Hooray ! so does I," cried O'Connor, stripping off his waistcoat, and for once in his life agreeing with Joe. " Na, na, lads," cried John Watt, rolling up his sleeves, and baring his brawny arms as if about to engage in a fight, " it '11 niver do to interfere wi' the law ; but what d' ye say to gie them anither dook ?" Seeing that the men were about to act upon Watt's suggestion, Ruby started up in the boat, and, turning to his comrades, said, " Boys, it 's very kind of you to be so anxious to save me, but you can't ' " Faix but we can, darlin'/' interrupted O'Connor. " No, you can't," repeated Euby firmly, " because I won't let you. I don't think I need say to you that I am innocent," he added, with a look in which truth evidently shone forth like a sunbeam, "but now that they have put these irons on me I will not consent that they shall be taken off except by the law which put them on." While he was speaking the boat had been pushed off, and in a few seconds it was beyond the reach of the men. " Depend upon it, comrades." cried Ruby, as they THE LIGHTHOUSE. 1 79 pulled away, " that I shall be back again to help you to finish the work on the Bell Rock." " So you will, lad, so you will," cried the foreman. " My blessin' on ye," shouted O'Connor. " Ach ! ye dirty villains, ye low-minded spalpeens," he added, shaking his fist at the officers of justice. " Don't be long away, Euby," cried one. " Never say die," shouted another, earnestly. " Three cheers for Ruby Brand," exclaimed Forsyth, " hip ! hip ! hip ! " The cheer was given with the most vociferous energy, and then the men stood in melancholy silence on Ralph the Rover's Ledge watching the boat that bore their comrade to the shore. CHAPTEE XVI. NEW ARRANGEMENTS THE CAPTAIN'S PHILOSOPHY IN REGARD TO PIPEOLOOT. THAT night our hero was lodged in the common jail of Arbroath. Soon after, he was tried, and, as Captain Ogilvy had prophesied, was acquitted. Thereafter he went to reside for the winter with his mother, occupying the same room as his worthy uncle, as there was not another spare one in the cottage, and sleeping in a hammock, slung parallel with and close to that of the captain. On the night following his release from prison, Euby lay on his back in his hammock meditating intently on the future, and gazing at the ceiling, or rather at the place where he knew the ceiling to be, for it was a dark night, and there was no light in the room, the candle having just been extinguished. We are not strictly correct however, in saying that there was no light in the room, for there was a deep red glowing spot of fire near to Captain Ogilvy's head, which flashed and grew dim at each alternate second of time. It was, in fact, the captain's pipe, THE LIGHTHOUSE. 181 a luxury in which that worthy man indulged morn- ing, noon, and night. He usually rested the bowl of the pipe on and a little over the edge of his ham- mock, and, lying on his back, passed the mouth- piece over the blankets into the corner of his mouth, where four of his teeth seemed to have agreed to form an exactly round hole suited to receive it. At each draw the fire in the bowl glowed so that the captain's nose was faintly illuminated; in the in- tervals the nose disappeared. The breaking or letting fall of this pipe was a common incident in the captain's nocturnal history, but he had got used to it, from long habit, and regarded the event each time it occurred with the philosophic composure of one who sees and makes up his mind to endure an inevitable and unavoid- able evil. "Euby," said the captain, after the candle was extinguished. " Well, uncle ?" " I 've bin thinkin', lad," Here the captain drew a few whiffs to prevent the pipe from going out, in which operation he evidently forgot himself and went on thinking, for he said no- thing more. " Well, uncle, what have you been thinking ?" " Eh ! ah, yes, I 've bin thinkin', lad (puff), that you '11 have to (puff) there 's somethin' wrong with 182 THE LIGHTHOUSE. the pipe to-night, it don't draw well (puff) you'll have to do somethin' or other in the town, for it won't do to leave the old woman, lad, in her delicate state o' health. Had she turned in when you left the kitchen?" " yes, an hour or more." " An' Blue Eyes, ' The tender bit flower that waves in the breeze, And scatters its fragrance all over the seas ' has she turned in too ?" " She was just going to when I left," replied Euby ; " but what has that to do with the question." " I didn't say as it had anything to do with it, lad. Moreover, there ain't no question between us as I knows on (puff) ; but what have you to say to stop- pin' here all winter ?" " Impossible," said Euby, with a sigh. " Not so, lad ; what 's to hinder ? Ah ! there she goes." The pipe fell with a crash to the floor, and burst with a bright shower of sparks, like a little bomb- shell "That's the third, Ruby, since I turned in," said the captain, getting slowly over the side of his hammock, and alighting on the floor heavily. "I won't git up again if it goes another time." After knocking off the chimney-piece five or six articles which appeared to be made of tin from the THE LIGHTHOUSE. 183 noise they made in falling, the captain succeeded in getting hold of another pipe and the tinder-hox, for in those days flint and steel were the implements generally used in procuring a light. With much trouble he re -lit the pipe. " Now, Euby, lad, hold it till I tumble in." " But I can't see the stem, uncle." " What a speech for a seaman to make ! Don't you see the fire in the bowl ?" " Yes, of course." " Well, just make a grab two inches astarn of the bowl and you '11 hook the stem." The captain was looking earnestly into the bowl while he spoke, stuffing down the burning tobacco with the end of his little finger. Euby, acting in rather too prompt obedience to the instructions, made a " grab" as directed, and caught his uncle by the nose. A yell and an apology followed of course, in the midst of which the fourth pipe was demolished. " Oh ! uncle, what a pity I" " Ah ! Ruby, that comes o' inconsiderate youth, which philosophers tell us is the nat'ral consequence of unavoidable necessity, for you can't put a young head on old shoulders, d' ye see ?" From the tone in which this was said Ruby knew that the captain was shaking his head gravely, and from the noise of articles being kicked about and 184 THE LIGHTHOUSE. falling, he became aware that the unconquerable man was filling a fifth pipe. This one was more successfully managed, and the captain once more got into his hammock, and began to enjoy himself. " Well, Ruby, where was I ? ay ; what 's to hinder you goin' and gettin' employed in the Bell Rock workyard? There's plenty to do, and good wages there." It may be as well to inform the reader here, that although the operations at the Bell Rock had come to an end for the season about the beginning of October, the work of hewing the stones for the lighthouse was carried on briskly during the winter at the workyard on shore ; and as the tools, etc., required constant sharpening and mending, a black- smith could not be dispensed with. " Do you think I can get in again?" inquired Ruby. " No doubt of it, lad. But the question is, are ye willin' to go if they '11 tae you ?" " Quite willing, uncle." " Good ' then that 's all square, an' I knows how to lay my course up anchor to-morrow mornin', crowd all sail, bear down on the workyard, bring-to off the countin'-room, and open fire on the superin- tendent." The captain paused at this point, and opened fire with his pipe for some minutes. THE LIGHTHOUSE. 185 " Now," he continued, " there 's another thing I want to ax you. I'm goin' to-morrow afternoon to take a cruise along the cliffs to the east'ard in the preventive boat, just to keep up my sea-legs. They 've got scent o' some smugglin' business that 's goin' on, an' my friend Leftenant Lindsay has asked me to go. Now, Euby, if you want a short cruise of an hour or so you may come with me." Kuby smiled at the manner in which this offer was made, and replied " With pleasure, uncle." " So, then, that 's settled too. Goodnight, nephy." The captain turned on his side, and dropped the pipe on the floor, where it was shivered to atoms. It must not be supposed that this was accidental It was done on purpose. Captain Ogilvy had found from experience that it was not possible to stretch out his arm to its full extent and lay the pipe on the chimney-piece, without waking himself up just at that critical moment when sleep was consenting to be wooed. He also found that on the average he broke one in every four pipes that he thus attempted to deposit. Being a philosophical and practical man, he came to the conclusion that it would be worth while to pay something for the comfort of being undisturbed at the minute of time that lay between the conclusion of smoking and the commencement of repose. He therefore got a sheet of foolscap and a 186 THE LIGHTHOUSE. pencil, and spent a whole forenoon in abstruse cal- culations. He ascertained the exact value of three hundred and sixty-five clay pipes. From this he deducted a fourth for breakages that would have certainly occurred in the old system of laying the pipes down every night, and which, therefore, he felt, in a confused sort of way, ought not to he charged in the estimates of a new system. Then he added a small sum to the result for probable extra breakages, such as had occurred that night, and found that the total was not too high a price for a man in his circumstances to pay for the bless- ing he wished to obtain. From that night forward he deliberately dropped his pipe every night over the side of his hammock before going to sleep. The captain, in commenting on this subject, was wont to observe that everything in life, no matter how small, afforded matter of thought to philoso- phical men. He had himself found a pleasing sub- ject of study each morning in the fact that some of the pipes survived the fall of the previous night. This led him to consider the nature of clay pipes in general, and to test them in various ways. It is true he did not say that anything of importance resulted from his peculiar studies, but he argued that a true philosopher looks for facts, and leaves results alone. One discovery he undoubtedly did THE LIGHTHOUSE. 187 make, which was, that the pipes obtained from a certain maker in the town invariably broke, while those obtained from another maker broke only occa- sionally. Hence he came to the conclusion that one maker was an honest man, the other a doubtful character, and wisely bestowed his custom in accord- ance with that opinion, About one minute after the falling of the pipe Euby Brand fell asleep, and about two minutes after that Captain Ogilvy began to snore, both of which conditions were maintained respectively and unin- terruptedly until the birds began to whistle and the sun be