The Lighthouse Part 21

The captain turned on his side, and dropped the pipe on the floor, where it was s.h.i.+vered 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 pencil, and spent a whole forenoon in abstruse calculations. He ascertained the exact value of three hundred and sixty-five clay pipes. From this he deducted a fourth for breakage 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 be 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 circ.u.mstances to pay for the blessing 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 philosophical men. He had himself found a pleasing subject 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 make, which was, that the pipes obtained from a certain maker in the town _invariably_ broke, while those obtained from another maker broke only occasionally. Hence he came to the conclusion that one maker was an honest man, the other a doubtful character, and wisely bestowed his custom in accordance with that opinion.

About one minute after the falling of the pipe Ruby Brand fell asleep, and about two minutes after that Captain Ogilvy began to snore, both of which conditions were maintained respectively and uninterruptedly until the birds began to whistle and the sun began to s.h.i.+ne.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

A MEETING WITH OLD FRIENDS, AND AN EXCURSION.

Next morning the captain and his nephew "bore down", as the former expressed it, on the workyard, and Ruby was readily accepted, his good qualities having already been well tested at the Bell Rock.

"Now, boy, we'll go and see about the little preventive craft," said the captain on quitting the office.

"But first," said Ruby, "let me go and tell my old comrade Dove that I am to be with him again."

There was no need to enquire the way to the forge, the sound of the anvil being distinctly heard above all the other sounds of that busy spot.

The workyard at Arbroath, where the stones for the lighthouse were collected and hewn into shape before being sent off to the rock, was an enclosed piece of ground, extending to about three-quarters of an acre, conveniently situated on the northern side of the Lady Lane, or Street, leading from the western side of the harbour.

Here were built a row of barracks for the workmen, and several apartments connected with the engineer's office, mould-makers'

department, stores, workshops for smiths and joiners, stables, etcetera, extending 150 feet along the north side of the yard. All of these were fully occupied, there being upwards of forty men employed permanently.

Sheds of timber were also constructed to protect the workmen in wet weather; and a kiln was built for burning lime. In the centre of the yard stood a circular platform of masonry on which the stones were placed when dressed, so that each stone was tested and marked, and each "course" or layer of the lighthouse fitted up and tried, before being s.h.i.+pped to the rock.

The platform measured 44 feet in diameter. It was founded with large broad stones at a depth of about 2 feet 6 inches, and built to within 10 inches of the surface with rubble work, on which a course of neatly dressed and well-jointed masonry was laid, of the red sandstone from the quarries to the eastward of Arbroath, which brought the platform on a level with the surface of the ground. Here the dressed part of the first entire course, or layer, of the lighthouse was lying, and the platform was so substantially built as to be capable of supporting any number of courses which it might be found convenient to lay upon it in the further progress of the work.

Pa.s.sing this platform, the captain and Ruby threaded their way through a ma.s.s of workyard _debris_ until they came to the building from which the sounds of the anvil proceeded. For a few minutes they stood looking at our old friend Jamie Dove, who, with bared arms, was causing the sparks to fly, and the glowing metal to yield, as vigorously as of old.

Presently he ceased hammering, and turning to the fire thrust the metal into it. Then he wiped his brow, and glanced towards the door.

"What! eh! Ruby Brand?" he shouted in surprise.

"Och! or his ghost!" cried Ned O'Connor, who had been appointed to Ruby's vacant situation.

"A pretty solid ghost you'll find me," said Ruby with a laugh, as he stepped forward and seized the smith by the hand.

"Musha! but it's thrue," cried O'Connor, quitting the bellows, and seizing Ruby's disengaged hand, which he shook almost as vehemently as the smith did the other.

"Now, then, don't dislocate him altogether," cried the captain, who was much delighted with this warm reception; "he's goin' to jine you, boys, so have mercy on his old timbers."

"Jine us!" cried the smith.

"Ay, been appointed to the old berth," said Ruby, "so I'll have to uns.h.i.+p _you_, Ned."

"The sooner the better; faix, I niver had much notion o' this fiery style o' life; it's only fit for sallymanders and bottle-imps. But when d'ye begin work, lad?"

"To-morrow, I believe. At least, I was told to call at the office to-morrow. To-day I have an engagement."

"Ay, an' it's time we was under weigh," said Captain Ogilvy, taking his nephew by the arm. "Come along, lad, an' don't keep them waiting."

So saying they bade the smith goodbye, and, leaving the forge, walked smartly towards that part of the harbour where the boats lay.

"Ruby," said the captain, as they went along, "it's lucky it's such a fine day, for Minnie is going with us."

Ruby said nothing, but the deep flush of pleasure that overspread his countenance proved that he was not indifferent to the news.

"You see she's bin out of sorts," continued the captain, "for some time back; and no wonder, poor thing, seein' that your mother has been so anxious about you, and required more than usual care, so I've prevailed on the leftenant to let her go. She'll get good by our afternoon's sail, and we won't be the worse of her company. What say ye to that, nephy?"

Ruby said that he was glad to hear it, but he thought a great deal more than he said, and among other things he thought that the lieutenant might perhaps be rather in the way; but as his presence was unavoidable he made up his mind to try to believe that he, the lieutenant, would in all probability be an engaged man already. As to the possibility of his seeing Minnie and being indifferent to her (in the event of his being a free man), he felt that such an idea was preposterous! Suddenly a thought flashed across him and induced a question--

"Is the lieutenant married, uncle?"

"Not as I know of, lad; why d'ye ask?"

"Because--because--married men are so much pleasanter than--"

Ruby stopped short, for he just then remembered that his uncle was a bachelor.

"'Pon my word, youngster! go on, why d'ye stop in your purlite remark?"

"Because," said Ruby, laughing, "I meant to say that _young_ married men were so much more agreeable than _young_ bachelors."

"Humph!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the captain, who did not see much force in the observation, "and how d'ye know the leftenant's a _young_ man? I didn't say he was young; mayhap he's old. But here he is, so you'll judge for yourself."

At the moment a tall, deeply-bronzed man of about thirty years of age walked up and greeted Captain Ogilvy familiarly as his "buck", enquiring, at the same time, how his "old timbers" were, and where the "bit of baggage" was.

"She's to be at the end o' the pier in five minutes," said the captain, drawing out and consulting a watch that was large enough to have been mistaken for a small eight-day clock. "This is my nephy, Ruby. Ruby Brand--Leftenant Lindsay. True blues, both of ye--

"`When shall we three meet again?

Where the stormy winds do blow, do blow, do blow, And the thunder, lightenin', and the rain, Riots up above, and also down below, below, below.'

"Ah! here comes the pretty little craft."

Minnie appeared as he spoke, and walked towards them with a modest, yet decided air that was positively bewitching.

She was dressed in homely garments, but that served to enhance the beauty of her figure, and she had on the plainest of little bonnets, but that only tended to make her face more lovely. Ruby thought it was perfection. He glanced at Lieutenant Lindsay, and perceiving that he thought so too (as how could he think otherwise?) a pang of jealousy shot into his breast. But it pa.s.sed away when the lieutenant, after politely a.s.sisting Minnie into the boat, sat down beside the captain and began to talk earnestly to him, leaving Minnie entirely to her lover.

We may remark here, that the t.i.tle of "leftenant", bestowed on Lindsay by the captain was entirely complimentary.

The crew of the boat rowed out of the harbour, and the lieutenant steered eastward, towards the cliffs that have been mentioned in an earlier part of our tale.

The day turned out to be one of those magnificent and exceptional days which appear to have been cut out of summer and interpolated into autumn. It was bright, warm, and calm, so calm that the boat's sail was useless, and the crew had to row; but this was, in Minnie's estimation, no disadvantage, for it gave her time to see the caves and picturesque inlets which abound all along that rocky coast. It also gave her time to--but no matter.