The Lighthouse

“In ye go, my beauties,” said Swankie, covering them up. “Mony’s the time I’ve buried ye.”

“Ay, an’ mony’s the time ye’ve helped at their resurrection,” added Spink, with a laugh.

“Noo, we’ll away an’ have a look at the kegs in the Forbidden Cave,” said Swankie, “see that they’re a’ richt, an’ then have our game wi’ the land-sharks.”

Next moment the torch was dashed against the stones and extinguished, and the two men, leaping into their boat, rowed away. As they passed through the outer cavern, Ruby heard them arrange to go back to Auchmithie. Their voices were too indistinct to enable him to ascertain their object in doing so, but he knew enough of the smugglers to enable him to guess that it was for the purpose of warning some of their friends of the presence of the preventive boat, which their words proved that they had seen.

“Now, Minnie,” said he, starting up as soon as the boat had disappeared, “this is what I call good luck, for not only shall we be able to return with something to the boat, but we shall be able to intercept big Swankie and his comrade, and offer them a glass of their own gin!”

“Yes, and I shall be able to boast of having had quite a little adventure,” said Minnie, who, now that her anxiety was ever, began to feel elated.

They did not waste time in conversation, however, for the digging up of two kegs from a gravelly beach with fingers instead of a spade was not a quick or easy thing to do; so Ruby found as he went down on his knees in that dark place and began the work.

“Can I help you?” asked his fair companion after a time.

“Help me! What? Chafe and tear your little hands with work that all but skins mine? Nay, truly. But here comes one, and the other will soon follow. Yo, heave, Ho!”

With the well-known nautical shout Ruby put forth an herculean effort, and tore the kegs out of the earth. After a short pause he carried Minnie out of the cavern, and led her to the field above by the same path by which they had descended.

Then he returned for the kegs of gin. They were very heavy, but not too heavy for the strength of the young giant, who was soon hastening with rapid strides towards the bay, where they had left their friends. He bore a keg under each arm, and Minnie tripped lightly by his side,—and laughingly, too, for she enjoyed the thought of the discomfiture that was in store for the smugglers.

Chapter Twenty

The Smugglers are “Treated” to Gin and Astonishment

They found the lieutenant and Captain Ogilvy stretched on the grass, smoking their pipes together. The daylight had almost deepened into night, and a few stars were beginning to twinkle in the sky.

“Hey! what have we here—smugglers?” cried the captain, springing up rather quickly, as Ruby came unexpectedly on them.

“Just so, uncle,” said Minnie, with a laugh. “We have here some gin, smuggled all the way from Holland, and have come to ask your opinion of it.”

“Why, Ruby, how came you by this?” enquired Lindsay in amazement, as he examined the kegs with critical care.

“Suppose I should say that I have been taken into confidence by the smugglers and then betrayed them.”

“I should reply that the one idea was improbable, and the other impossible,” returned the lieutenant.

“Well, I have at all events found out their secrets, and now I reveal them.”

In a few words Ruby acquainted his friends with all that has just been narrated.

The moment he had finished, the lieutenant ordered his men to launch the boat. The kegs were put into the stern-sheets, the party embarked, and, pushing off, they rowed gently out of the bay, and crept slowly along the shore, under the deep shadow of the cliffs.

“How dark it is getting!” said Minnie, after they had rowed for some time in silence.

“The moon will soon be up,” said the lieutenant. “Meanwhile I’ll cast a little light on the subject by having a pipe. Will you join me, captain?”

This was a temptation which the captain never resisted; indeed, he did not regard it as a temptation at all, and would have smiled at the idea of resistance.

“Minnie, lass,” said he, as he complacently filled the blackened bowl, and calmly stuffed down the glowing tobacco with the end of that marvellously callous little fingers, “it’s a wonderful thing that baccy. I don’t know what man would do without it.”

“Quite as well as woman does, I should think,” replied Minnie.

“I’m not so sure of that, lass. It’s more nat’ral for man to smoke than for woman. Ye see, woman, lovely woman, should be ‘all my fancy painted her, both lovely and divine.’ It would never do to have baccy perfumes hangin’ about her rosy lips.”

“But, uncle, why should man have the disagreeable perfumes you speak of hanging about his lips?”

“I don’t know, lass. It’s all a matter o’ feeling. ‘’Twere vain to tell thee all I feel, how much my heart would wish to say;’ but of this I’m certain sure, that I’d never git along without my pipe. It’s like compass, helm, and ballast all in one. Is that the moon, leftenant?”

The captain pointed to a faint gleam of light on the horizon, which he knew well enough to be the moon; but he wished to change the subject.

“Ay is it, and there comes a boat. Steady, men! lay on your oars a bit.”

This was said earnestly. In one instant all were silent, and the boat lay as motionless as the shadows of the cliffs among which it was involved.

Presently the sound of oars was heard. Almost at the same moment, the upper edge of the moon rose above the horizon, and covered the sea with rippling silver. Ere long a boat shot into this stream of light, and rowed swiftly in the direction of Arbroath.

“There are only two men in it,” whispered the lieutenant.

“Ay, these are my good friends Swankie and Spink, who know a deal more about other improper callings besides smuggling, if I did not greatly mistake their words,” cried Ruby.

“Give way, lads!” cried the lieutenant.

The boat sprang at the word from her position under the cliffs, and was soon out upon the sea in full chase of the smugglers, who bent to their oars more lustily, evidently intending to trust to their speed.

“Strange,” said the lieutenant, as the distance between the two began sensibly to decrease, “if these be smugglers, with an empty boat, as you lead me to suppose they are, they would only be too glad to stop and let us see that they had nothing aboard that we could touch. It leads me to think that you are mistaken, Ruby Brand, and that these are not your friends.”

“Nay, the same fact convinces me that they are the very men we seek; for they said they meant to have some game with you, and what more amusing than to give you a long, hard chase for nothing?”

“True; you are right. Well, we will turn the tables on them. Take the helm for a minute, while I tap one of the kegs.”

The tapping was soon accomplished, and a quantity of the spirit was drawn off into the captain’s pocket-flask.

“Taste it, captain, and let’s have your opinion.” Captain Ogilvy complied. He put the flask to his lips, and, on removing it, smacked them, and looked at the party with that extremely grave, almost solemn expression, which is usually assumed by a man when strong liquid is being put to the delicate test of his palate.

“Oh!” exclaimed the captain, opening his eyes very wide indeed.

What “oh” meant, was rather doubtful at first; but when the captain put the flask again to his lips, and took another pull, a good deal longer than the first, much, if not all of the doubt was removed.

“Prime! nectar!” he murmured, in a species of subdued ecstasy, at the end of the second draught.

“Evidently the right stuff,” said Lindsay, laughing.

“Liquid streams—celestial nectar,Darted through the ambient sky,—”

Said the captain; “liquid, ay, liquid is the word.”

He was about to test the liquid again:—

“Stop! stop! fair play, captain; it’s my turn now,” cried the lieutenant, snatching the flask from his friend’s grasp, and applying it to his own lips.

Both the lieutenant and Ruby pronounced the gin perfect, and as Minnie positively refused either to taste or to pronounce judgment, the flask was returned to its owner’s pocket.

They were now close on the smugglers, whom they hailed, and commanded to lay on their oars.

The order was at once obeyed, and the boats were speedily rubbing sides together.

“I should like to examine your boat, friends,” said the lieutenant as he stepped across the gunwales.

“Oh! sir, I’m thankfu’ to find you’re not smugglers,” said Swankie, with an assumed air of mingled respect and alarm.

“If we’d only know’d ye was preventives we’d ha’ backed oars at once. There’s nothin’ here; ye may seek as long’s ye please.”

The hypocritical rascal winked slyly to his comrade as he said this. Meanwhile Lindsay and one of the men examined the contents of the boat, and, finding nothing contraband, the former said—

“So, you’re honest men, I find. Fishermen, doubtless?”

“Ay, some o’ yer crew ken us brawly,” said Davy Spink with a grin.

“Well, I won’t detain you,” rejoined the lieutenant; “it’s quite a pleasure to chase honest men on the high seas in these times of war and smuggling. But it’s too bad to have given you such a fright, lads, for nothing. What say you to a glass of gin?”

Big Swankie and his comrade glanced at each other in surprise. They evidently thought this an unaccountably polite Government officer, and were puzzled. However, they could do no less than accept such a generous offer.

“Thank’ee, sir,” said Big Swankie, spitting out his quid and significantly wiping his mouth. “I hae nae objection. Doubtless it’ll be the best that the like o’ you carries in yer bottle.”

“The best, certainly,” said the lieutenant, as he poured out a bumper, and handed it to the smuggler. “It was smuggled, of course, and you see His Majesty is kind enough to give his servants a little of what they rescue from the rascals, to drink his health.”

“Weel, I drink to the King,” said Swankie, “an’ confusion to all his enemies, ’specially to smugglers.”

He tossed off the gin with infinite gusto, and handed back the cup with a smack of the lips and a look that plainly said, “More, if you please!”

But the hint was not taken. Another bumper was filled and handed to Davy Spink, who had been eyeing the crew of the boat with great suspicion. He accepted the cup, nodded curtly, and said—

“Here’s t’ye, gentlemen, no forgettin’ the fair leddy in the stern-sheets.”

While he was drinking the gin the lieutenant turned to his men—

“Get out the keg, lads, from which that came, and refill the flask. Hold it well up in the moonlight, and see that ye don’t spill a single drop, as you value your lives. Hey! my man, what ails you? Does the gin disagree with your stomach, or have you never seen a smuggled keg of spirits before, that you stare at it as if it were a keg of ghosts!”

The latter part of this speech was addressed to Swankie, who no sooner beheld the keg than his eyes opened up until they resembled two great oysters. His mouth slowly followed suit. Davy Spink’s attention having been attracted, he became subject to similar alterations of visage.

“Hallo!” cried the captain, while the whole crew burst into a laugh, “you must have given them poison. Have you a stomach-pump, doctor?” he said, turning hastily to Ruby.

“No, nothing but a penknife and a tobacco-stopper. If they’re of any use to you—”

He was interrupted by a loud laugh from Big Swankie, who quickly recovered his presence of mind, and declared that he had never tasted such capital stuff in his life.

“Have ye much o’t, sir?”

“O yes, a good deal. I have two kegs of it” (the lieutenant grinned very hard at this point), “and we expect to get a little more to-night.”

“Ha!” exclaimed Davy Spink, “there’s no doot plenty o’t in the coves hereaway, for they’re an awfu’ smugglin’ set. Whan did ye find the twa kegs, noo, if I may ask?”

“Oh, certainly. I got them not more than an hour ago.”

The smugglers glanced at each other and were struck dumb; but they were now too much on their guard to let any further evidence of surprise escape them.

“Weel, I wush ye success, sirs,” said Swankie, sitting down to his oar. “It’s likely ye’ll come across mair if ye try Dickmont’s Den. There’s usually somethin’ hidden thereaboots.”

“Thank you, friend, for the hint,” said the lieutenant, as he took his place at the tiller-ropes, “but I shall have a look at the Gaylet Cove, I think, this evening.”

“What! the Gaylet Cove?” cried Spink. “Ye might as weel look for kegs at the bottom o’ the deep sea.”

“Perhaps so; nevertheless, I have taken a fancy to go there. If I find nothing, I will take a look into the Forbidden Cave.”

“The Forbidden Cave!” almost howled Swankie. “Wha iver heard o’ smugglers hidin’ onything there? The air in’t wad pushen a rotten.”

“Perhaps it would, yet I mean to try.”

“Weel-a-weel, ye may try, but ye might as weel seek for kegs o’ gin on the Bell Rock.”

“Ha! it’s not the first time that strange things have been found on the Bell Rock,” said Ruby suddenly. “I have heard of jewels, even, being discovered there.”

“Give way, men; shove off,” cried the lieutenant. “A pleasant pull to you, lads. Good night.”

The two boats parted, and while the lieutenant and his friends made for the shore, the smugglers rowed towards Arbroath in a state of mingled amazement and despair at what they had heard and seen.

“It was Ruby Brand that spoke last, Davy.”

“Ay; he was i’ the shadow o’ Captain Ogilvy and I couldna see his face, but I thought it like his voice when he first spoke.”

“Hoo can he hae come to ken aboot the jewels?”

“That’s mair than I can tell.”

“I’ll bury them,” said Swankie, “an’ then it’ll puzzle onybody to tell whaur they are.”

“Ye’ll please yoursell,” said Spink.

Swankie was too angry to make any reply, or to enter into further conversation with his comrade about the kegs of gin, so they continued their way in silence.

Meanwhile, as Lieutenant Lindsay and his men had a night of work before them, the captain suggested that Minnie, Ruby, and himself should be landed within a mile of the town, and left to find their way thither on foot. This was agreed to; and while the one party walked home by the romantic pathway at the top of the cliffs, the other rowed away to explore the dark recesses of the Forbidden Cave.

Chapter Twenty One

The Bell Rock Again—A Dreary Night in a Strange Habitation

During that winter Ruby Brand wrought diligently in the workyard at the lighthouse materials, and, by living economically, began to save a small sum of money, which he laid carefully by with a view to his marriage with Minnie Gray.

Being an impulsive man, Ruby would have married Minnie, then and there, without looking too earnestly to the future. But his mother had advised him to wait till he should have laid by a little for a “rainy day.” The captain had recommended patience, tobacco, and philosophy, and had enforced his recommendations with sundry apt quotations from dead and living novelists, dramatists, and poets. Minnie herself, poor girl, felt that she ought not to run counter to the wishes of her best and dearest friends, so she too advised delay for a “little time”; and Ruby was fain to content himself with bewailing his hard lot internally, and knocking Jamie Dove’s bellows, anvils, and sledge-hammers about in a way that induced that son of Vulcan to believe his assistant had gone mad!

As for big Swankie, he hid his ill-gotten gains under the floor of his tumble-down cottage, and went about his evil courses as usual in company with his comrade Davy Spink, who continued to fight and make it up with him as of yore.

It must not be supposed that Ruby forgot the conversation he had overheard in the Gaylet Cove. He and Minnie and his uncle had frequent discussions in regard to it, but to little purpose; for although Swankie and Spink had discovered old Mr Brand’s body on the Bell Rock, it did not follow that any jewels or money they had found there were necessarily his. Still Ruby could not divest his mind of the feeling that there was some connexion between the two, and he was convinced, from what had fallen from Davy Spink about “silver teapots and things”, that Swankie was the man of whose bad deeds he himself had been suspected.

As there seemed no possibility of bringing the matter home to him, however, he resolved to dismiss the whole affair from his mind in the meantime.

Things were very much in this state when, in the spring, the operations at the Bell Rock were resumed.

Jamie Dove, Ruby, Robert Selkirk, and several of the principal workmen, accompanied the engineers on their first visit to the rock, and they sailed towards the scene of their former labours with deep and peculiar interest, such as one might feel on renewing acquaintance with an old friend who had passed through many hard and trying struggles since the last time of meeting.

The storms of winter had raged round the Bell Rock as usual—as they had done, in fact, since the world began; but that winter the handiwork of man had also been exposed to the fury of the elements there. It was known that the beacon had survived the storms, for it could be seen by telescope from the shore in clear weather—like a little speck on the seaward horizon. Now they were about to revisit the old haunt, and have a close inspection of the damage that it was supposed must certainly have been done.

To the credit of the able engineer who planned and carried out the whole works, the beacon was found to have resisted winds and waves successfully.

It was on a bitterly cold morning about the end of March that the first visit of the season was paid to the Bell Rock. Mr Stevenson and his party of engineers and artificers sailed in the lighthouse yacht; and, on coming within a proper distance of the rock, two boats were lowered and pushed off. The sea ran with such force upon the rock that it seemed doubtful whether a landing could be effected. About half-past eight, when the rock was fairly above water, several attempts were made to land, but the breach of the sea was still so great that they were driven back.

On the eastern side the sea separated into two distinct waves, which came with a sweep round the western side, where they met, and rose in a burst of spray to a considerable height. Watching, however, for what the sailors termed a smooth, and catching a favourable opportunity, they rowed between the two seas dexterously, and made a successful landing at the western creek.

The sturdy beacon was then closely examined. It had been painted white at the end of the previous season, but the lower parts of the posts were found to have become green—the sea having clothed them with a soft garment of weed. The sea-birds had evidently imagined that it was put up expressly for their benefit; for a number of cormorants and large herring-gulls had taken up their quarters on it—finding it, no doubt, conveniently near to their fishing-grounds.

A critical inspection of all its parts showed that everything about it was in a most satisfactory state. There was not the slightest indication of working or shifting in the great iron stanchions with which the beams were fixed, nor of any of the joints or places of connexion; and, excepting some of the bracing-chains which had been loosened, everything wars found in the same entire state in which it had been left the previous season.

Only those who know what that beacon had been subjected to can form a correct estimate of the importance of this discovery, and the amount of satisfaction it afforded to those most interested in the works at the Bell Rock. To say that the party congratulated themselves would be far short of the reality. They hailed the event with cheers, and their looks seemed to indicate that some piece of immense and unexpected good fortune had befallen each individual.

From that moment Mr Stevenson saw the practicability and propriety of fitting up the beacon, not only as a place of refuge in case of accidents to the boats in landing, but as a residence for the men during the working months.

From that moment, too, poor Jamie Dove began to see the dawn of happier days; for when the beacon should be fitted up as a residence he would bid farewell to the hated floating light, and take up his abode, as he expressed it, “on land.”

“On land!” It is probable that this Jamie Dove was the first man, since the world began, who had entertained the till then absurdly preposterous notion that the fatal Bell Rock was “land,” or that it could be made a place of even temporary residence.

A hundred years ago men would have laughed at the bare idea. Fifty years ago that idea was realised; for more than half a century that sunken reef has been, and still is, the safe and comfortable home of man!

Forgive, reader, our tendency to anticipate. Let us proceed with our inspection.

Having ascertained that the foundations of the beacon were all right, the engineers next ascended to the upper parts, where they found the cross-beams and their fixtures in an equally satisfactory condition.

On the top a strong chest had been fixed the preceding season, in which had been placed a quantity of sea-biscuits and several bottles of water, in case of accident to the boats, or in the event of shipwreck occurring on the rock. The biscuit, having been carefully placed in tin canisters, was found in good condition, but several of the water-bottles had burst, in consequence, it was supposed, of frost during the winter. Twelve of the bottles, however, remained entire, so that the Bell Rock may be said to have been transformed, even at that date, from a point of destruction into a place of comparative safety.

While the party were thus employed, the landing-master reminded them that the sea was running high, and that it would be necessary to set off while the rock afforded anything like shelter to the boats, which by that time had been made fast to the beacon and rode with much agitation, each requiring two men with boat-hooks to keep them from striking each other, or ranging up against the beacon. But under these circumstances the greatest confidence was felt by everyone, from the security afforded by that temporary erection; for, supposing that the wind had suddenly increased to a gale, and that it had been found inadvisable to go into the boats; or supposing they had drifted or sprung a leak from striking upon the rocks, in any of these possible, and not at all improbable, cases, they had now something to lay hold of, and, though occupying the dreary habitation of the gull and the cormorant, affording only bread and water, yet life would be preserved, and, under the circumstances, they would have been supported by the hope of being ultimately relieved.

Soon after this the works at the Bell Rock were resumed, with, if possible, greater vigour than before, and ere long the “house” was fixed to the top of the beacon, and the engineer and his men took up their abode there.

Think of this, reader. Six great wooden beams were fastened to a rock, over which the waves roared twice every day, and on the top of these a pleasant little marine residence was nailed, as one might nail a dovecot on the top of a pole!

This residence was ultimately fitted up in such a way as to become a comparatively comfortable and commodious abode. It contained four storeys. The first was the mortar-gallery, where the mortar for the lighthouse was mixed as required; it also supported the forge. The second was the cook-room. The third the apartment of the engineer and his assistants; and the fourth was the artificers’ barrack-room. This house was of course built of wood, but it was firmly put together, for it had to pass through many a terrific ordeal.

In order to give some idea of the interior, we shall describe the cabin of Mr Stevenson. It measured four feet three inches in breadth on the floor, and though, from the oblique direction of the beams of the beacon, it widened towards the top, yet it did not admit of the full extension of the occupant’s arms when he stood on the floor. Its length was little more than sufficient to admit of a cot-bed being suspended during the night. This cot was arranged so as to be triced up to the roof during the day, thus leaving free room for occasional visitors, and for comparatively free motion. A folding table was attached with hinges immediately under the small window of the apartment. The remainder of the space was fitted up with books, barometer, thermometer, portmanteau, and two or three camp-stools.