Read The Lighthouse Page 26


  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

  A SUDDEN AND TREMENDOUS CHANGE IN RUBY'S FORTUNES.

  What a variety of appropriate aphorisms there are to express the greattruths of human experience! "There is many a slip 'twixt the cup andthe lip" is one of them. Undoubtedly there is. So is there "many amiss of a sweet little kiss." "The course of true love," also, "neverdid run smooth." Certainly not. Why should it? If it did we shoulddoubt whether the love were true. Our own private belief is that thecourse of true love is always uncommonly rough, but collective humanwisdom has seen fit to put the idea in the negative form. So let itstand.

  Ruby had occasion to reflect on these things that day, but thereflection afforded him no comfort whatever.

  The cause of his inconsolable state of mind is easily explained.

  The boat had proceeded about halfway to Arbroath when they heard thesound of oars, and in a few seconds a ship's gig rowed out of the fogtowards them. Instead of passing them the gig was steered straight forthe boat, and Ruby saw that it was full of men-of-war's men.

  He sprang up at once and seized an oar.

  "Out oars!" he cried. "Boys, if ever you pulled hard in your lives, doso now. It's the press-gang!"

  Before those few words were uttered the two men had seized the oars, forthey knew well what the press-gang meant, and all three pulled with suchvigour that the boat shot over the smooth sea with double speed. Butthey had no chance in a heavy fishing boat against the picked crew ofthe light gig. If the wind had been a little stronger they might haveescaped, but the wind had decreased, and the small boat overhauled themyard by yard.

  Seeing that they had no chance, Ruby said, between his set teeth:

  "Will ye fight, boys?"

  "_I_ will," cried Davy Spink sternly, for Davy had a wife and littledaughter on shore, who depended entirely on his exertions for theirlivelihood, so he had a strong objection to go and fight in the wars ofhis country.

  "What's the use?" muttered Big Swankie, with a savage scowl. He, too,had a strong disinclination to serve in the Royal Navy, being a lazyman, and not overburdened with courage. "They've got eight men of acrew, wi' pistols an' cutlashes."

  "Well, it's all up with us," cried Ruby, in a tone of sulky anger, as hetossed his oar overboard, and, folding his arms on his breast, satsternly eyeing the gig as it approached.

  Suddenly a beam of hope shot into his heart. A few words will explainthe cause thereof.

  About the time the works at the Bell Rock were in progress, the war withFrance and the Northern Powers was at its height, and the demand for menwas so great that orders were issued for the establishment of an impressservice at Dundee, Arbroath, and Aberdeen. It became thereforenecessary to have some protection for the men engaged in the works. Asthe impress officers were extremely rigid in the execution of theirduty, it was resolved to have the seamen carefully identified, and,therefore, besides being described in the usual manner in theprotection-bills granted by the Admiralty, each man had a ticket givento him descriptive of his person, to which was attached a silver medalemblematical of the lighthouse service.

  That very week Ruby had received one of the protection-medals andtickets of the Bell Rock, a circumstance which he had forgotten at themoment. It was now in his pocket, and might perhaps save him.

  When the boat ranged up alongside, Ruby recognised in the officer at thehelm the youth who had already given him so much annoyance. The officeralso recognised Ruby, and, with a glance of surprise and pleasure,exclaimed:

  "What! have I bagged you at last, my slippery young lion?"

  Ruby smiled as he replied, "Not _quite_ yet, my persevering youngjackall." (He was sorely tempted to transpose the word into jackass,but he wisely restrained himself.) "I'm not so easily caught as youthink."

  "Eh! how? what mean you?" exclaimed the officer, with an expression ofsurprise, for he knew that Ruby was now in his power. "I have you safe,my lad, unless you have provided yourself with a pair of wings. Ofcourse, I shall leave one of you to take your boat into harbour, but youmay be sure that I'll not devolve that pleasant duty upon _you_."

  "I have not provided myself with wings exactly," returned Ruby, pullingout his medal and ticket; "but here is something that will do quite aswell."

  The officer's countenance fell, for he knew at once what it was. Heinspected it, however, closely.

  "Let me see," said he, reading the description on the ticket, which ranthus:--

  "Bell Rock Workyard, Arbroath,

  "20th June, 1810.

  "_Ruby Brand, seaman and blacksmith, in the service of the Honourable the Commissioners of the Northern Lighthouses, aged_ 25 _years_, 5 _feet_ 10 _inches high, very powerfully made, fair complexion, straight nose, dark-blue eyes, and curling auburn hair_."

  This description was signed by the engineer of the works; and on theobverse was written, "_The bearer, Ruby Brand, is serving as ablacksmith in the erection of the Bell Rock Lighthouse_."

  "This is all very well, my fine fellow," said the officer, "but I havebeen deceived more than once with these medals and tickets. How am I toknow that you have not stolen it from someone?"

  "By seeing whether the description agrees," replied Ruby.

  "Of course, I know that as well as you, and I don't find the descriptionquite perfect. I would say that your hair is light-brown, now, notauburn, and your nose is a little Roman, if anything; and there's nomention of whiskers, or that delicate moustache. Why, look here," headded, turning abruptly to Big Swankie, "this might be the descriptionof your comrade as well as, if not better than, yours. What's yourname?"

  "Swankie, sir," said that individual ruefully, yet with a gleam of hopethat the advantages of the Bell Rock medal might possibly, in someunaccountable way, accrue to himself, for he was sharp enough to seethat the officer would be only too glad to find any excuse for securingRuby.

  "Well, Swankie, stand up, and let's have a look at you," said theofficer, glancing from the paper to the person of the fisherman, andcommenting thereon. "Here we have `very powerfully made'--no mistakeabout that--strong as Samson; `fair complexion'--that's it exactly;`auburn hair'--so it is. Auburn is a very undecided colour; there's agreat deal of red in it, and no one can deny that Swankie has a gooddeal of red in _his_ hair."

  There was indeed no denying this, for it was altogether red, of anintense carroty hue.

  "You see, friend," continued the officer, turning to Ruby, "that thedescription suits Swankie very well."

  "True, as far as you have gone," said Ruby, with a quiet smile; "butSwankie is six feet two in his stockings, and his nose is turned up, andhis hair don't curl, and his eyes are light-green, and his complexion issallow, if I may not say yellow--"

  "Fair, lad; fair," said the officer, laughing in spite of himself. "Ah!Ruby Brand, you are jealous of him! Well, I see that I'm fated not tocapture you, so I'll bid you good day. Meanwhile your companions willbe so good as to step into my gig."

  The two men rose to obey. Big Swankie stepped over the gunwale, withthe fling of a sulky, reckless man, who curses his fate and submits toit. Davy Spink had a very crestfallen, subdued look. He was about tofollow, when a thought seemed to strike him. He turned hastily round,and Ruby was surprised to see that his eyes were suffused with tears,and that his features worked with the convulsive twitching of one whostruggles powerfully to restrain his feelings.

  "Ruby Brand," said he, in a deep husky voice, which trembled at first,but became strong as he went on; "Ruby Brand, I deserve nae good at yourhands, yet I'll ask a favour o' ye. Ye've seen the wife and the bairn,the wee ane wi' the fair curly pow. Ye ken the auld hoose. It'll bemony a lang day afore I see them again, if iver I come back ava.There's naebody left to care for them. They'll be starvin' soon, lad.Wull ye--wull ye look-doon?"

  Poor Davy Spink stopped here, and covered his face with his big sunburnthands.

  A sudden gush of sympathy filled Ruby's heart. He started forward, anddrawing from his pocket the lette
r with which he was charged, thrust itinto Spink's hand, and said hurriedly--

  "Don't fail to deliver it the first thing you do on landing. Andhark'ee, Spink, go to Mrs Brand's cottage, and tell them there _why_ Iwent away. Be sure you see them _all_, and explain _why it was_. TellMinnie Gray that I will be _certain_ to return, if God spares me."

  Without waiting for a reply he sprang into the gig, and gave the otherboat a shove, that sent it several yards off.

  "Give way, lads," cried the officer, who was delighted at thisunexpected change in affairs, though he had only heard enough of theconversation to confuse him as to the cause of it.

  "Stop! stop!" shouted Spink, tossing up his arms.

  "I'd rather not," returned the officer.

  Davy seized the oars, and, turning his boat in the direction of the gig,endeavoured to overtake it. As well might the turkey-buzzard attempt tocatch the swallow. He was left far behind, and when last seen faintlythrough the fog, he was standing up in the stern of the boat wringinghis hands.

  Ruby had seated himself in the bow of the gig, with his face turnedsteadily towards the sea, so that no one could see it. This position hemaintained in silence until the boat ranged up to what appeared like theside of a great mountain, looming through the mist.

  Then he turned round, and, whatever might have been the struggle withinhis breast, all traces of it had left his countenance, which presentedits wonted appearance of good-humoured frankness.

  We need scarcely say that the mountain turned out to be a Britishman-of-war. Ruby was quickly introduced to his future messmates, andwarmly received by them. Then he was left to his own free will duringthe remainder of that day, for the commander of the vessel was a kindman, and did not like to add to the grief of the impressed men bysetting them to work at once.

  Thus did our hero enter the Royal Navy; and many a long and weary dayand month passed by before he again set foot in his native town.