A CHANGE IN THE LIGHTHOUSE.
It seemed a long time before my grandfather came back, and then he only
said in a low voice, 'You can bring him now, my lads; she knows about it
now.'
And so the mournful little procession moved on, through the field and
garden and court, to the Millars' house, my grandfather and I following.
I shall never forget that night, nor the strange, solemn feeling I had
then.
Mrs. Millar was very ill; the shock had been too much for her. The men
went back in the boat to bring a doctor to the island to see her, and
the doctor sent them back again to bring a nurse. He said he was afraid
she would have an attack of brain-fever, and he thought her very ill
indeed.
My grandfather and I sat in the Millars' house all night, for the nurse
did not arrive until early in the morning. The six children were fast
asleep in their little beds. I went to look at them once, to see if my
little Timpey was all right; she was lying in little Polly's bed, their
tiny hands fast clasped together as they slept. The tears came fast into
my eyes, as I thought that they both had lost a father, and yet neither
of them knew anything of their loss!
When the nurse arrived, my grandfather and I went home But we could not
sleep; we lighted the kitchen fire, and sat over it in silence for a
long time.
Then my grandfather said: 'Alick, my lad, it has given me such a turn as
I haven't had for many a day. It might have been _me_, Alick; it might
just as well have been _me_!'
I put my hand in his, and grasped it very tightly, as he said this.
'Yes,' he said again, 'it might have been me; and if it had, I wonder
where I should have been now?'
I didn't speak, and he went on,--'I wonder where Jem is now, poor
fellow; I've been thinking of that all night, ever since I saw him lying
there at the bottom of that boat.'
So I told him of what Jem Millar had said to me the last time I had seen
him.
'On the Rock!' said my grandfather. Did he say he was on the Rock? Dear
me! I wish I could say as much, Alick, my lad.'
'Can't you and I come as he came, grandfather?' I said. 'Can't we come
and build on the Rock, too?'
'Well,' said my grandfather, 'I wish we could, my lad. I begin to see
what he meant, and what the old gentleman meant too. He said, "You're on
the sand, my friend; you're on the sand, and it won't stand the storm;
no, it won't stand the storm!" I've just had those words in my ears all
the time we were sitting over there by Mrs. Millar. But, dear me, I
don't know how to get on the Rock; I don't indeed.'
The whole of the next week poor Mrs. Millar lay between life and death.
At first the doctor gave no hope whatever of her recovery; but after a
time she grew a little better, and he began to speak more
encouragingly. I spent my time with the poor children, and hardly left
them a moment, doing all I could to keep them quietly happy, that they
might not disturb their mother.
One sorrowful day only, my grandfather and I were absent for several
hours from the lighthouse; for we went ashore to follow poor Jem Millar
to the grave. His poor wife was unconscious, and knew nothing of what
was going on.
When, after some weeks, the fever left her, she was still very weak and
unfit for work. But there was much to be done, and she had no time to
sit still, for a new man had been appointed to take her husband's place;
and he was to come into the house at the beginning of the month.
We felt very dull and sad the day that the Millars went away. We went
down to the pier with them, and saw them on board the steamer--Mrs.
Millar, the six little children, and the servant-girl, all dressed in
mourning, and all of them crying. They were going to Mrs. Millar's home,
far away in the north of Scotland, where her old father and mother were
still living.
The island seemed very lonely and desolate when they were gone. If it
had not been for our little sunbeam, as my grandfather called her, I do
not know what we should have done. Every day we loved her more, and what
we dreaded most was, that a letter would arrive some Monday morning to
tell us that she must go away from us.
'Dear me, Alick,' my grandfather would often say, 'how little you and me
thought that stormy night what a little treasure we had got wrapped up
in that funny little bundle!'
The child was growing fast; the fresh sea did her great good, and every
day she became more intelligent and pretty.
We were very curious to know who was appointed in Jem Millar's place;
but we were not able to find out even what his name was. Captain Sayers
said that he did not know anything about it; and the gentlemen who came
over once or twice to see about the house being repaired and put in
order for the new-comer were very silent on the subject, and seemed to
think us very inquisitive if we asked any questions. Of course, our
comfort depended very much upon who our neighbour was, for he and my
grandfather would be constantly together, and we should have no one else
to speak to.
My grandfather was very anxious that we should give the man a welcome
to the island, and make him comfortable on his first arrival. So we set
to work, as soon as the Millars were gone, to dig up the untidy garden
belonging to the next house, and make it as neat and pretty as we could
for the new-comers.
'I wonder how many of them there will be,' I said, as we were at work in
their garden.
'Maybe only just the man,' said my grandfather. 'When I came here first,
I was a young unmarried man, Alick. But we shall soon know all about
him; he'll be here next Monday morning, they say.'
'It's a wonder he hasn't been over before,' I said, 'to see the house
and the island. I wonder what he'll think of it?'
'He'll be strange at first, poor fellow, said my grandfather; 'but we'll
give him a bit of a welcome. Have a nice bit of breakfast ready for
him, Alick, my lad, and for his wife and bairns too, if he has any--hot
coffee and cakes, and a bit of meat, and any thing else you like;
they'll be glad of it after crossing over here.'
So we made our little preparations, and waited very anxiously indeed for
Monday's Steamer.