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
shipped 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.
Passing this platform, the captain and Ruby threaded their way through a
mass 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
unship _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!" ejaculated 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 passed away when the lieutenant, after
politely assisting 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 title 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.
"O how very much I should like to have a little boat," said Minnie, with
enthusiasm, "and spend a long day rowing in and out among these wild
rocks, and exploring the caves! Wouldn't it be delightful, Ruby?"
Ruby admitted that it would, and added, "You shall have such a day,
Minnie, if we live long."
"Have you ever been in the _Forbidden Cave_?" enquired Minnie.
"I'll warrant you he has," cried the captain, who overheard the
question; "you may be sure that wherever Ruby is forbidden to go, there
he'll be sure to go!"
"Ay, is he so self-willed?" asked the lieutenant, with a smile, and a
glance at Minnie.
"A mule; a positive mule," said the captain.
"Come, uncle, you know that I don't deserve such a character, and it's
too bad to give it to me to-day. Did I not agree to come on this
excursion at once, when you asked me?"
"Ay, but you wouldn't if I had _ordered_ you," returned the captain.
"I rather think he would," observed the lieutenant, with another smile,
and another glance at Minnie.
Both smiles and glances were observed and noticed by Ruby, whose heart
felt another pang shoot through it; but this, like the former, subsided
when the lieutenant again addressed the captain, and devoted himself to
him so exclusively, that Ruby began to feel a touch of indignation at
his want of appreciation of _such_ a girl as Minnie.
"He's a stupid ass," thought Ruby to himself, and then, turning to
Minnie, directed her attention to a curious natural arch on the cliffs,
and sought to forget all the rest of the world.
In this effort he was successful, and had gradually worked himself into
the firm belief that the world was paradise, and that he and Minnie were
its sole occupants--a second edition, as it were, of Adam and Eve--when
the lieutenant rudely dispelled the sweet dream by saying sharply to the
man at the bow-oar--
"Is that the boat, Baker? You ought to know it pretty well."
"I think it is, sir," answered the man, resting on his oar a moment, and
glancing over his shoulder; "but I can't be sure at this distance."
"Well, pull easy," said the lieutenant; "you see, it won't do to scare
them, Captain Ogilvy, and they'll think we're a pleasure party when they
see a woman in the boat."
Ruby thought they would not be far wrong in supposing them a pleasure
party. He objected, mentally, however, to Minnie being styled a
"woman"--not that he would have had her called a man, but he thought
that _girl_ would have been more suitable--angel, perhaps, the most
appropriate term of all.
"Come, captain, I think I will join you in a pipe," said the lieutenant,
pulling out a tin case, in which he kept the blackest of little cutty
pipes. "In days of old our ancestors loved to fight--now we degenerate
souls love to smoke the pipe of peace."
"I did not know that your ancestors were enemies," said Minnie to the
captain.
"Enemies, lass! ay, that they were. What! have ye never heard tell o'
the great fight between the Ogilvys and Lindsays?"
"Never," said Minnie.
"Then, my girl, your education has been neglected, but I'll do what I
can to remedy that defect."
Here the captain rekindled his pipe (which was in the habit of going
out, and requiring to be relighted), and, clearing his throat with the
emphasis of one who is about to communicate something of importance,
held forth as follows.