OLD FRIENDS IN NEW CIRCUMSTANCES
Let us now return to Ruby Brand; and in order that the reader may
perfectly understand the proceedings of that bold youth, let us take
a glance at the Bell Bock Lighthouse in its completed condition.
We have already said that the lower part, from the foundation to the
height of thirty feet, was built of solid masonry, and that at the
top of this solid part stood the entrance-door of the
building--facing towards the south.
The position of the door was fixed after the solid part had been
exposed to a winter's storms. The effect on the building was such
that the most sheltered or lee side was clearly indicated; the
weather-side being thickly covered with limpets, barnacles, and short
green seaweed, while the lee-side was comparatively free from such
incrustations.
The walls at the entrance-door are nearly seven feet thick, and the
short passage that pierces them leads to the foot of a spiral
staircase, which conducts to the lowest apartment in the tower, where
the walls decrease in thickness to three feet. This room is the
provision store. Here are kept water-tanks and provisions of all
kinds, including fresh vegetables which, with fresh water, are
supplied once a fortnight to the rock all the year round. The
provision store is the smallest apartment, for, as the walls of the
tower decrease in thickness as they rise, the several apartments
necessarily increase as they ascend.
The second floor is reached by a wooden staircase or ladder, leading
up through a "manhole" in the ceiling. Here is the lightroom store,
which contains large tanks of polished metal for the oil consumed by
the lights. A whole year's stock of oil, or about 1100 gallons, is
stored in these tanks. Here also is a small carpenter's bench and
tool-box, besides an endless variety of odds and ends,--such as
paint-pots, brushes, flags, waste for cleaning the reflectors,
&c. &c.
Another stair, similar to the first, leads to the third floor, which
is the kitchen of the building. It stands about sixty-six feet above
the foundation. We shall have occasion to describe it and the rooms
above presently. Meanwhile, let it suffice to say, that the fourth
floor contains the men's sleeping berths, of which there are six,
although three men is the usual complement on the rock. The fifth
floor is the library, and above that is the lantern; the whole
building, from base to summit, being 115 feet high.
At the time when Ruby entered the door of the Bell Rock Lighthouse,
as already described, there were three keepers in the building, one
of whom was on his watch in the lantern, while the other two were in
the kitchen.
These men were all old friends. The man in the lantern was George
Forsyth, who had been appointed one of the light-keepers in
consideration of his good services and steadiness. He was seated
reading at a small desk. Close above him was the blazing series of
lights, which revolved slowly and steadily by means of machinery,
moved by a heavy weight. A small bell was struck slowly but regularly
by the same machinery, in token that all was going on well. If that
bell had ceased to sound, Forsyth would at once have leaped up to
ascertain what was wrong with the lights. So long as it continued to
ring he knew that all was well, and that he might continue his
studies peacefully--not quietly, however, for, besides the rush of
wind against the thick plate glass of the lantern, there was the
never-ceasing roar of the ventilator, in which the heated air from
within and the cold air from without met and kept up a terrific war.
Keepers get used to that sound, however, and do not mind it.
Each keeper's duty was to watch for three successive hours in the
lantern.
Not less familiar were the faces of the occupants of the kitchen. To
this apartment Ruby ascended without anyone hearing him approach, for
one of the windows was open, and the roar of the storm effectually
drowned his light footfall. On reaching the floor immediately below
the kitchen he heard the tones of a violin, and when his head emerged
through the manhole of the kitchen floor, he paused and listened with
deep interest, for the air was familiar.
Peeping round the corner of the oaken partition that separated the
manhole from the apartment, he beheld a sight which filled his heart
with gladness, for there, seated on a camp stool, with his back
leaning against the dresser, his face lighted up by the blaze of a
splendid fire, which burned in a most comfortable-looking kitchen
range, and his hands drawing forth most pathetic music from a violin,
sat his old friend Joe Dumsby, while opposite to him on a similar
camp stool, with his arm resting on a small table, and a familiar
black pipe in his mouth, sat that worthy son of Vulcan, Jamie Dove.
The little apartment glowed with ruddy light, and to Ruby, who had
just escaped from a scene of such drear and dismal aspect, it
appeared, what it really was, a place of the most luxurious comfort.
Dove was keeping time to the music with little puffs of smoke, and
Joe was in the middle of a prolonged shake, when Ruby passed through
the doorway and stood before them.
Dove's eyes opened to their widest, and his jaw dropt, so did his
pipe, and the music ceased abruptly, while the faces of both men grew
pale.
"I'm not a ghost, boys," said Ruby, with a laugh, which afforded
immense relief to his old comrades. "Come, have ye not a welcome for
an old messmate who swims off to visit you on such a night as this?"
Dove was the first to recover. He gasped, and, holding out both
arms, exclaimed, "Ruby Brand!"
"And no mistake!" cried Ruby, advancing and grasping his friend
warmly by the hands.
For at least half a minute the two men shook each other's hands
lustily and in silence. Then they burst into a loud laugh, while Joe,
suddenly recovering, went crashing into a Scotch reel with energy so
great that time and tune were both sacrificed. As if by mutual
impulse, Ruby and Dove began to dance! But this was merely a spurt of
feeling, more than half-involuntary. In the middle of a bar Joe flung
down the fiddle, and, springing up, seized Ruby round the neck and
hugged him, an act which made him aware of the fact that he was
dripping wet.
"Did ye _swim_ hoff to the rock?" he enquired, stepping back, and
gazing at his friend with a look of surprise, mingled with awe.
"Indeed I did."
"But how? why? what mystery are ye rolled up in?" exclaimed the
smith.
"Sit down, sit down, and quiet yourselves," said Ruby, drawing a
stool near to the fire, and seating himself. "I'll explain, if
you'll only hold your tongues, and not look so scared like."
"No, Ruby; no, lad, you must change yer clothes first," said the
smith, in a tone of authority; "why, the fire makes you steam like a
washin' biler. Come along with me, an' I'll rig you out."
"Ay, go hup with 'im, Ruby. Bless me, this is the most amazin'
hincident as ever 'appened to me. Never saw nothink like it."
As Dove and Ruby ascended to the room above, Joe went about the
kitchen talking to himself, poking the fire violently, overturning
the camp stools, knocking about the crockery on the dresser, and
otherwise conducting himself like a lunatic.
Of course Ruby told Dove parts of his story by fits and starts as he
was changing his garments; of course he had to be taken up to the
lightroom and go through the same scene there with Forsyth that had
occurred in the kitchen; and, of course, it was not until all the
men, himself included, had quite exhausted themselves, that he was
able to sit down at the kitchen fire and give a full and connected
account of himself, and of his recent doings.
After he had concluded his narrative, which was interrupted by
frequent question and comment, and after he had refreshed himself
with a cup of tea, he rose and said--
"Now, boys, it's not fair to be spending all the night with you here,
while my old comrade Forsyth sits up yonder all alone. I'll go up and
see him for a little."
"We'll go hup with 'ee, lad," said Dumsby.
"No ye won't," replied Ruby; "I want him all to myself for a while;
fair play and no favour, you know, used to be our watchword on the
rock in old times. Besides, his watch will be out in a little, so ye
can come up and fetch him down."
"Well, go along with you," said the smith. "Hallo! that must have
been a big 'un."
This last remark had reference to a distinct tremor in the building,
caused by the falling of a great wave upon it.
"Does it often get raps like that?" enquired Ruby, with a look of
surprise.
"Not often," said Dove, "once or twice durin' a gale, mayhap, when a
bigger one than usual chances to fall on us at the right angle. But
the lighthouse shakes worst just the gales begin to take off and when
the swell rolls in heavy from the east'ard."
"Ay, that's the time," quoth Joe. "W'y, I've 'eard all the cups and
saucers on the dresser rattle with the blows o' them heavy seas, but
the gale is gittin' to be too strong to-night to shake us much."
"Too strong!" exclaimed Ruby.
"Ay. You see w'en it blows very hard, the breakers have not time to
come down on us with a 'eavy tellin' blow, they goes tumblin' and
swashin' round us and over us, hammerin' away wildly every how, or
nohow, or anyhow, just like a hexcited man fightin' in a hurry. The
after-swell, _that's_ wot does it. _That's_ wot comes on slow, and
big, and easy, but powerful, like a great prize-fighter as knows what
he can do, and means to do it."
"A most uncomfortable sort of residence," said Ruby, as he turned to
quit the room.
"Not a bit, when ye git used to it," said the smith. "At first we was
rather skeered, but we don't mind now. Come, Joe, give us 'Rule,
Britannia'--'pity she don't rule the waves straighter', as somebody
writes somewhere."
So saying, Dove resumed his pipe, and Dumsby his fiddle, while Ruby
proceeded to the staircase that led to the rooms above.
Just as he was about to ascend, a furious gust of wind swept past,
accompanied by a wild roar of the sea; at the same moment a mass of
spray dashed against the small window at his side. He knew that this
window was at least sixty feet above the rock, and he was suddenly
filled with a strong desire to have a nearer view of the waves that
had force to mount so high. Instead, therefore, of ascending to the
lantern, he descended to the doorway, which was open, for, as the
storm blew from the eastward, the door was on the lee-side.
There were two doors--one of metal, with thick plate-glass panels at
the inner end of the passage; the other, at the outer end of it, was
made of thick solid wood bound with metal, and hung so as to open
outwards. When the two leaves of this heavy door were shut they were
flush with the tower, so that nothing was presented for the waves to
act upon. But this door was never closed except in cases of storm
from the southward.
The scene which presented itself to our hero when he stood in the
entrance passage was such as neither pen nor pencil can adequately
depict. The tide was full, or nearly so, and had the night been calm
the water would have stood about twelve or fourteen feet on the sides
of the tower, leaving a space of about the same height between its
surface and the spot at the top of the copper ladder where Ruby
stood; but such was the wild commotion of the sea that this space was
at one moment reduced to a few feet, as the waves sprang up towards
the doorway, or nearly doubled, as they sank hissing down to the very
rock.
Acres of white, leaping, seething foam covered the spot where the
terrible Bell Rock lay. Never for a moment did that boiling cauldron
get time to show one spot of dark-coloured water. Billow after billow
came careering on from the open sea in quick succession, breaking
with indescribable force and fury just a few yards to windward of the
foundations of the lighthouse, where the outer ledges of the rock,
although at the time deep down in the water, were sufficiently near
the surface to break their first full force, and save the tower from
destruction, though not from many a tremendous blow and overwhelming
deluge of water.
When the waves hit the rock they were so near that the lighthouse
appeared to receive the shock. Rushing round it on either side, the
cleft billows met again to leeward, just opposite the door, where
they burst upwards in a magnificent cloud of spray to a height of
full thirty feet. At one time, while Ruby held on by the man-ropes
at the door and looked over the edge, he could see a dark abyss
with the foam shimmering pale far below; another instant, and the
solid building perceptibly trembled, as a green sea hit it fair on
the weather-side. A continuous roar and hiss followed as the billow
swept round, filled up the dark abyss, and sent the white water
gleaming up almost into the doorway. At the same moment the sprays
flew by on either side of the column, so high that a few drops were
thrown on the lantern. To Ruby's eye these sprays appeared to be
clouds driving across the sky, so high were they above his head. A
feeling of awe crept over him as his mind gradually began to realize
the world of water which, as it were, overwhelmed him--water and foam
roaring and flying everywhere--the heavy seas thundering on the
column at his back--the sprays from behind arching almost over the
lighthouse, and meeting those that burst up in front, while an eddy
of wind sent a cloud swirling in at the doorway, and drenched him to
the skin! It was an exhibition of the might of God in the storm such
as he had never seen before, and a brief sudden exclamation of
thanksgiving burst from the youth's lips, as he thought of how
hopeless his case would have been had the French vessel passed the
lighthouse an hour later than it did.
The contrast between the scene outside and that inside the Bell Rock
Lighthouse at that time was indeed striking. Outside there was madly
raging conflict; inside there were peace, comfort, security: Ruby,
with his arms folded, standing calmly in the doorway; Jamie Dove and
Joe Dumsby smoking and fiddling in the snug kitchen; George Forsyth
reading (the _Pilgrim's Progress_ mayhap, or _Robinson Crusoe_, for
both works were in the Bell Rock library) by the bright blaze of the
crimson and white lamps, high up in the crystal lantern.
If a magician had divided the tower in two from top to bottom while
some ship was staggering past before the gale, he would have
presented to the amazed mariners the most astonishing picture of "war
without and peace within" that the world ever saw!