CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
THE STORM.
"'Tis a fearful night," said Logan, pausing with his foot on the firststep of the ladder. "Perhaps we had better sit up."
"What's the use?" said O'Connor, who was by nature reckless. "Av thebeacon 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 byanother fit of violent toothache.
"So do I," exclaimed several of the men, as another wave dashed againstthe beacon, and a quantity of spray came pouring down from the roomsabove.
This latter incident put an end to further conversation. While somesprang up the ladder to see where the leak had occurred, Ruby opened thedoor, which was on the lee-side of the building, and descended to themortar-gallery to look after his tools, which lay there.
Here he was exposed to the full violence of the gale, for, as we havesaid, this first floor of the beacon was not protected by sides. Therewas sufficient light to enable him to see all round for a considerabledistance. The sight was not calculated to comfort him.
The wind was whistling with what may be termed a vicious sound among thebeams, to one of which Ruby was obliged to cling to prevent his beingcarried away. The sea was bursting, leaping, and curling wildly overthe rocks, which were now quite covered, and as he looked down throughthe chinks in the boards of the floor, he could see the foam whirlinground the beams of his trembling abode, and leaping up as if to seizehim. As the tide rose higher and higher, the waves roared straightthrough below the floor, their curling backs rising terribly near towhere he stood, and the sprays drenching him and the whole edificecompletely.
As he gazed into the dark distance, where the turmoil of waters seemedto glimmer with ghostly light against a sky of the deepest black, hemissed the light of the _Smeaton_, which, up to that time, had beenmoored as near to the lee of the rock as was consistent with safety. Hefancied she must have gone down, and it was not till next day that thepeople on the beacon knew that she had parted her cables, and had beenobliged to make for the Firth of Forth for shelter from the storm.
While he stood looking anxiously in the direction of the tender, a wavecame so near to the platform that he almost involuntarily leaped up theladder for safety. It broke before reaching the beacon, and the spraydashed right over it, carrying away several of the smith's tools.
"Ho, boys! lend a hand here, some of you," shouted Ruby, as he leapeddown on the mortar-gallery again.
Jamie Dove, Bremner, O'Connor, and several others were at his side in amoment, and, in the midst of tremendous sprays, they toiled to securethe movable articles that lay there. These were passed up to thesheltered parts of the house; but not without great danger to all whostood on the exposed gallery below.
Presently two of the planks were torn up by a sea, and several bags ofcoal, 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 ofthese, 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 theircomrades.
The fire, meanwhile, could scarcely be got to burn, and the whole placewas full of smoke, besides being wet with the sprays that burst over theroof, and found out all the crevices that had not been sufficientlystopped up. Attending to these leaks occupied most of the men atintervals during the night. Ruby and his friend the smith spent much ofthe time in the doorway, contemplating the gradual destruction of theirworkshop.
For some time the gale remained steady, and the anxiety of the men beganto subside a little, as they became accustomed to the ugly twisting ofthe great beams, and found that no evil consequences followed.
In the midst of this confusion, poor Forsyth's anxiety of mind became asnothing compared with the agony of his toothache!
Bremner had already made several attempts to persuade the miserable manto 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 ashypaleness.
It was an awful situation truly. In danger of his life; suffering theagonies of toothache, and with the prospect of torments unbearable froman inexpert hand; for Forsyth did not believe in Bremner's boastedpowers.
"What'll you do it with?" he enquired meekly.
"Jamie Dove's small pincers. Here they are," said Bremner, moving aboutactively in his preparations, as if he enjoyed such work uncommonly.
By this time the men had assembled round the pair, and almost forgot thestorm in the interest of the moment.
"Hold him, two of you," said Bremner, when his victim was seatedsubmissively 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 ofyou stand by to catch his legs; but you needn't touch them unless hekicks. Ruby, you're a strong fellow; hold his head."
The men obeyed. At that moment Forsyth would have parted with hisdearest hopes in life to have escaped, and the toothache, strange tosay, left him entirely; but he was a plucky fellow at bottom; havingagreed to have it done, he would not draw back.
Bremner introduced the pincers slowly, being anxious to get a good holdof the tooth. Forsyth uttered a groan in anticipation! Alarmed lest heshould struggle too soon, Bremner made a sudden grasp and caught thetooth. A wrench followed; a yell was the result, and the pincersslipped!
This was fortunate, for he had caught the wrong tooth.
"Now be aisy, boy," said Ned O'Connor, whose sympathies were easilyroused.
"Once more," said Bremner, as the unhappy man opened his mouth. "Bestill, and it will be all the sooner over."
Again Bremner inserted the instrument, and fortunately caught the righttooth. He gave a terrible tug, that produced its corresponding howl;but the tooth held on. Again! again! again! and the beacon houseresounded with the deadly yells of the unhappy man, who struggledviolently, 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 thepincers 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 apartmentabove, through which he ascended to the barrack-room, and flung himselfon his bed. At the same time a wave burst on the beacon with such forcethat every man there, except Forsyth, thought it would be carried away.The wave not only sprang up against the house, but the spray, scarcelyless solid than the wave, went quite over it, and sent down showers ofwater 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 toothachedid not return. Nay, to make a long story short, it never againreturned to that tooth till the end of his days!
The storm now blew its fiercest, and the men sat in silence in thekitchen listening to the turmoil, and to the thundering blows given bythe sea to their wooden house. Suddenly the beacon received a shock soawful, and so thoroughly different from any that it had previouslyreceived, that the men sprang to their feet in consternation.
Ruby and the smith were looking out at the doorway at the time, and bothinstinctively grasped the woodwork near them, expecting every instantthat the whole structure would be carried away; but it stood fast. Theyspeculated a good deal on the force of the blow they had received, butno one hit on the true cause; and it was not until some days later thatthey discovered that a huge rock of fully a ton weight had been washedagainst the beams that night.
While they were gazing at the wild storm, a wave broke up themortar-gal
lery altogether, and sent its remaining contents into the sea.All disappeared in a moment; nothing was left save the powerful beamsto 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 hadgot filled by the sprays, and the weight of water proving too much forthe tackling, it gave way at the bow shortly after the destruction ofthe 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 drenchedthe kitchen, so that the door had to be shut, and as the fire had goneout, the men had to sit and await their fate by the light of a littleoil-lamp.
They sat in silence, for the noise was now so great that it wasdifficult to hear voices, unless when they were raised to a high pitch.
Thus passed that terrible night; and the looks of the men, the solemnglances, the closed eyes, the silently moving lips, showed that theirthoughts were busy reviewing bygone days and deeds; perchance in makinggood resolutions for the future--"if spared!"
Morning brought a change. The rush of the sea was indeed stilltremendous, but the force of the gale was broken and the danger waspast.