"'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.