THE STORM
"'Tis a fearful night," said Logan, pausing with his foot on the
first step of the ladder. "Perhaps we had better sit up."
"What's the use?" said O'Connor, who was by nature reckless. "Av the
beacon howlds on, we may as well slape as not; an' if it don't howld
on, why, we'll be none the worse o' slapin' anyhow."
"_I_ mean to sit up," said Forsyth, whose alarm was aggravated by
another fit of violent toothache.
"So do I," exclaimed several of the men, as another wave dashed
against the beacon, and a quantity of spray came pouring down from
the rooms above.
This latter incident put an end to further conversation. While some
sprang up the ladder to see where the leak had occurred, Ruby opened
the door, which was on the lee side of the building, and descended to
the mortar-gallery to look after his tools, which lay there.
Here he was exposed to the full violence of the gale, for, as we have
said, this first floor of the beacon was not protected by sides.
There was sufficient light to enable him to see all round for a
considerable distance. The sight was not calculated to comfort him.
The wind was whistling with what may be termed a vicious sound among
the beams, to one of which Ruby was obliged to cling to prevent his
being carried away. The sea was bursting, leaping, and curling wildly
over the rocks, which were now quite covered, and as he looked down
through the chinks in the boards of the floor, he could see the foam
whirling round the beams of his trembling abode, and leaping up as if
to seize him. As the tide rose higher and higher, the waves roared
straight through below the floor, their curling backs rising terribly
near to where he stood, and the sprays drenching him and the whole
edifice completely.
As he gazed into the dark distance, where the turmoil of waters
seemed to glimmer with ghostly light against a sky of the deepest
black, he missed the light of the _Smeaton_, which, up to that time,
had been moored as near to the lee of the rock as was consistent with
safety. He fancied she must have gone down, and it was not till next
day that the people on the beacon knew that she had parted her
cables, and had been obliged to make for the Firth of Forth for
shelter from the storm.
While he stood looking anxiously in the direction of the tender, a
wave came so near to the platform that he almost involuntarily leaped
up the ladder for safety. It broke before reaching the beacon, and
the spray dashed right over it, carrying away several of the smith's
tools.
"Ho, boys! lend a hand here, some of you," shouted Ruby, as he leaped
down on the mortar-gallery again.
Jamie Dove, Bremner, O'Connor, and several others were at his side in
a moment, and, in the midst of tremendous sprays, they toiled to
secure the movable articles that lay there. These were passed up to
the sheltered parts of the house; but not without great danger to all
who stood on the exposed gallery below.
Presently two of the planks were torn up by a sea, and several bags
of coal, a barrel of small beer, and a few casks containing lime and
sand, were all swept away. The men would certainly have shared the
fate of these, had they not clung to the beams until the sea had
passed.
As nothing remained after that which could be removed to the room
above, they left the mortar-gallery to its fate, and returned to the
kitchen, where they were met by the anxious glances and questions of
their comrades.
The fire, meanwhile, could scarcely be got to burn, and the whole
place was full of smoke, besides being wet with the sprays that burst
over the roof, and found out all the crevices that had not been
sufficiently stopped up. Attending to these leaks occupied most of
the men at intervals during the night. Ruby and his friend the smith
spent much of the time in the doorway, contemplating the gradual
destruction of their workshop.
For some time the gale remained steady, and the anxiety of the men
began to subside a little, as they became accustomed to the ugly
twisting of the great beams, and found that no evil consequences
followed.
In the midst of this confusion, poor Forsyth's anxiety of mind became
as nothing compared with the agony of his toothache!
Bremner had already made several attempts to persuade the miserable
man to have it drawn, but without success.
"I could do it quite easy," said he, "only let me get a hold of it,
an' before you could wink I'd have it out."
"Well, you may try," cried Forsyth in desperation, with a face of
ashy paleness.
It was an awful situation truly. In danger of his life; suffering the
agonies of toothache, and with the prospect of torments unbearable
from an inexpert hand; for Forsyth did not believe in Bremner's
boasted powers.
"What'll you do it with?" he enquired meekly. "Jamie Dove's small
pincers. Here they are," said Bremner, moving about actively in his
preparations, as if he enjoyed such work uncommonly.
By this time the men had assembled round the pair, and almost forgot
the storm in the interest of the moment.
"Hold him, two of you," said Bremner, when his victim was seated
submissively on a cask.
"You don't need to hold me," said Forsyth, in a gentle tone.
"Don't we!" said Bremner. "Here, Dove, Ned, grip his arms, and some
of you stand by to catch his legs; but you needn't touch them unless
he kicks. Ruby, you're a strong fellow; hold his head."
The men obeyed. At that moment Forsyth would have parted with his
dearest hopes in life to have escaped, and the toothache, strange to
say, left him entirely; but he was a plucky fellow at bottom; having
agreed to have it done, he would not draw back.
Bremner introduced the pincers slowly, being anxious to get a good
hold of the tooth. Forsyth uttered a groan in anticipation! Alarmed
lest he should struggle too soon, Bremner made a sudden grasp and
caught the tooth. A wrench followed; a yell was the result, and the
pincers slipped! This was fortunate, for he had caught the wrong
tooth.
"Now be aisy, boy," said Ned O'Connor, whose sympathies were easily
roused.
"Once more," said Bremner, as the unhappy man opened his mouth. "Be
still, and it will be all the sooner over."
Again Bremner inserted the instrument, and fortunately caught the
right tooth. He gave a terrible tug, that produced its corresponding
howl; but the tooth held on. Again! again! again! and the beacon
house resounded with the deadly yells of the unhappy man, who
struggled violently, despite the strength of those who held him.
"Och! poor sowl!" ejaculated O'Connor.
Bremner threw all his strength into a final wrench, which tore away
the pincers and left the tooth as firm as ever!
Forsyth leaped up and dashed his comrades right and left.
"That'll do," he roared, and darted up the ladder into the apartment
above, through which he ascended to the barrack-room, and flung
himself on his bed. At the same time a wave burst on the beacon with
such force that every man there, except Forsyth, thought it would be
carried away. The wave not only sprang up against the house, but the
spray, scarcely less solid than the wave, went quite over it, and
sent down showers of water on the men below.
Little cared Forsyth for that. He lay almost stunned on his couch,
quite regardless of the storm. To his surprise, however, the
toothache did not return. Nay, to make a long story short, it never
again returned to that tooth till the end of his days!
The storm now blew its fiercest, and the men sat in silence in the
kitchen listening to the turmoil, and to the thundering blows given
by the sea to their wooden house. Suddenly the beacon received a
shock so awful, and so thoroughly different from any that it had
previously received, that the men sprang to their feet in
consternation.
Ruby and the smith were looking out at the doorway at the time, and
both instinctively grasped the woodwork near them, expecting every
instant that the whole structure would be carried away; but it stood
fast. They speculated a good deal on the force of the blow they had
received, but no one hit on the true cause; and it was not until some
days later that they discovered that a huge rock of fully a ton
weight had been washed against the beams that night.
While they were gazing at the wild storm, a wave broke up the
mortar-gallery altogether, and sent its remaining contents into the
sea. All disappeared in a moment; nothing was left save the powerful
beams to which the platform had been nailed.
There was a small boat attached to the beacon. It hung from two
davits, on a level with the kitchen, about thirty feet above the
rock. This had got filled by the sprays, and the weight of water
proving too much for the tackling, it gave way at the bow shortly
after the destruction of the mortar-gallery, and the boat hung
suspended by the stern-tackle. Here it swung for a few minutes, and
then was carried away by a sea. The same sea sent an eddy of foam
round towards the door and drenched the kitchen, so that the door had
to be shut, and as the fire had gone out, the men had to sit and
await their fate by the light of a little oil-lamp.
They sat in silence, for the noise was now so great that it was
difficult to hear voices, unless when they were raised to a high
pitch.
Thus passed that terrible night; and the looks of the men, the solemn
glances, the closed eyes, the silently moving lips, showed that their
thoughts were busy reviewing bygone days and deeds; perchance in
making good resolutions for the future--"if spared!"
Morning brought a change. The rush of the sea was indeed still
tremendous, but the force of the gale was broken and the danger was
past.