THE WRECKERS' LAMP.
Tun boys found Egloshayle House the most remarkable dwelling they had
ever seen. It would be difficult to imagine an abode more unlike the
ordinary town house to which they were accustomed. It stood at the
head of a rocky gorge, or chine, as it would be called in the south of
England, through which a swift, narrow stream made its way to the sea.
The house consisted of two parts, one modern, one very old. The
modern rooms had large windows and faced a bright flower-garden, with
a gravelled drive leading to the stately entrance. The old part lay
behind and extended almost to the edge of the gorge, which it seemed
to overhang. Here the rooms were low, the roof had deep eaves which
sheltered a whole colony of swallows, and ivy grew thickly about the
small-paned windows.
A curious little tower rose at one side. The boys' mother told them
that in the old days a lamp had always burned at night in the window of
this tower, giving a light which could be seen far out at sea. The boys
asked why this was no longer done, and she said she was afraid the lamp
had been no good.
It was said that a former dweller at Egloshayle had used it as a
treacherous beacon to lure vessels on to the deadly rocks below. That
was in the old wrecking days, when men believed that all that the sea
brought to their shore was their lawful prey, and instead of seeking to
save shipwrecked sailors, sought rather to hasten their doom that they
might enrich themselves by the spoil that the waves cast up.
"It is much better there should be no light in the tower," Mrs. Bryden
said, "than that men should mistake it for the light at the entrance to
Trevethick harbour and steer their vessels accordingly."
"It should show a red light," said Duke; "that means danger, and when
the sailors saw it, they would know they must keep away."
"Ah, yes," said his mother; "then it would be a useful warning. It
would be a terrible thing to show a light that would lead men to
destruction."
"Noel," said Duke to his brother, on the night of their arrival, just
as they were about to fall asleep, in the bedroom which their mother
had prepared for them next to her own, "I wish it was not Sunday
to-morrow. We shall not be able to bathe, or to paddle, and I do want
to see what the sands are like."
"Oh, I'm glad it'll be Sunday," said Noel, "for we shall have mother
with us all day."
They were both so tired from their long journey that this was the last
word said ere sleep overcame them.
The boys did not wake till a late hour the next morning. Then, as
they rushed to their window, which looked towards the sea, it was
a disappointment to find that a fine, driving mist hid the cliffs,
and the air felt almost as chill as winter. But by the time they had
finished breakfast, which was rather a long meal, since they had so
many questions to ask their mother, and she had so much to say to them,
the sun was beginning to shine through the mist.
They walked with their mother to an interesting old church, set in the
midst of the green downs. By the time the service was over the sun had
conquered the clouds, and in brilliant sunshine they took their way
home along the cliff path.
The boys could hardly contain themselves for joy as they bounded over
the soft, springy turf or gazed down on the blue sea, fringed with foam
wherever it touched the land, and the rugged brown cliffs, tinged in
places with streaks of rust-colour, which their mother told them marked
the presence of iron.
Here and there huge rocks stood detached from the cliffs, and the waves
surging fiercely against them seemed possessed by an angry desire to
bring down their pride.
Mrs. Bryden felt some qualms of fear as she warned her children not to
go too near the edge of the cliff. It was a place where a boy's high
spirits and contempt of fear might easily betray him into danger; but
she foresaw that she must harden herself to accept some risk if she
would not spoil her boys' pleasure or prevent their gaining proper
courage and self-control.
"Listen to me, boys," she said. "I want you to enjoy a good holiday
here; but I cannot always be with you. My duties will oblige me often
to leave you to yourselves; but I dare not let you go beyond the garden
alone unless you will promise me to be careful and not do things of
which you know I should not approve."
"You, Duke, are old enough to understand when there is danger which you
ought to avoid, and I shall make you responsible for Noel's safety.
You are not to let him climb into dangerous places. Remember that he
is younger and weaker than you, and things that you could attempt with
safety might prove too much for him. Will you promise me?"
"Yes, mother," said Duke; "but we can bathe, can't we?"
"Not alone," said his mother; "there is a good bathing beach at a
little distance, where it is safe to bathe. I will take you there
to-morrow morning if it is fine. When I am unable to go with you, I
will try to find some one to take my place."
"Why can't I bathe alone?" asked Duke. "I have learned to swim in the
swimming-bath at school, and I can do six strokes quite easily."
"I am glad to hear it," said his mother with a smile; "but the water
off this coast is very different from that in the swimming-bath. There
is often a strong undercurrent too, and it would take more than six
strokes to save you, if that carried you out of your depth."
"Mother," said Noel, as they came in sight of Egloshayle House, "who
sleeps in those rooms with the ivy almost covering the windows?"
"No one," said Mrs. Bryden; "those rooms are all unoccupied, with the
exception of the one next the tower, which Mr. Alan uses as a kind of a
study."
"Is Mr. Alan the one who is a miser?" asked Noel.
"A miser!" repeated his mother in surprise. "Who has been telling you
such a thing about him?"
Noel told her, pretty correctly, the talk he had heard on the coach.