Part 28 (2/2)

”Av the beacon should be carried away, darlin',” cried O'Connor, ”howld tight to the provision-chest, p'raps ye'll be washed ash.o.r.e.”

”I'll drink your health in water, Paddy,” replied Bremner.

”Faix, I hope it won't be salt wather,” retorted Ned.

They continued to shout good wishes, warnings, and advice to their comrade until out of hearing, and then waved adieu to him until he was lost to view.

We have said that Bremner was alone, yet he was not entirely so; he had a comrade with him, in the shape of his little black dog, to which reference has already been made. This creature was of that very thin and tight-skinned description of dog, that trembles at all times as if afflicted with chronic cold, summer and winter. Its thin tail was always between its extremely thin legs, as though it lived in a perpetual condition of wrong-doing, and were in constant dread of deserved punishment. Yet no dog ever belied its looks more than did this one, for it was a good dog, and a warm-hearted dog, and never did a wicked thing, and never was punished, so that its excessive humility and apparent fear and trembling were quite unaccountable. Like all dogs of its cla.s.s it was pa.s.sionately affectionate, and intensely grateful for the smallest favour. In fact, it seemed to be rather thankful than otherwise for a kick when it chanced to receive one, and a pat on the head, or a kind word made it all but jump out of its black skin for very joy.

Bremner called it ”Pup.” It had no other name, and didn't seem to wish for one. On the present occasion it was evidently much perplexed, and very unhappy, for it looked at the boat, and then wistfully into its master's face, as if to say, ”This is awful; have you resolved that we shall perish together?”

”Now, Pup,” said Bremner, when the boat disappeared in the shades of evening, ”you and I are left alone on the Bell Rock!”

There was a touch of sad uncertainty in the wag of the tail with which Pup received this remark.

”But cheer up, Pup,” cried Bremner with a sudden burst of animation that induced the creature to wriggle and dance on its hind legs for at least a minute, ”you and I shall have a jolly night together on the beacon; so come along.”

Like many a night that begins well, that particular night ended ill.

Even while the man spoke, a swell began to rise, and, as the tide had by that time risen a few feet, an occasional billow swept over the rocks and almost washed the feet of Bremner as he made his way over the ledges. In five minutes the sea was rolling all round the foot of the beacon, and Bremner and his friend were safely ensconced on the mortar-gallery.

There was no storm that night, nevertheless there was one of those heavy ground swells that are of common occurrence in the German Ocean.

It is supposed that this swell is caused by distant westerly gales in the Atlantic, which force an undue quant.i.ty of water into the North Sea, and thus produce the apparent paradox of great rolling breakers in calm weather.

On this night there was no wind at all, but there was a higher swell than usual, so that each great billow pa.s.sed over the rock with a roar that was rendered more than usually terrible, in consequence of the utter absence of all other sounds.

At first Bremner watched the rising tide, and as he sat up there in the dark he felt himself dreadfully forsaken and desolate, and began to comment on things in general to his dog, by way of inducing a more sociable and cheery state of mind.

”Pup, this is a lugubrious state o' things. Wot d'ye think o't?”

Pup did not say, but he expressed such violent joy at being noticed, that he nearly fell off the platform of the mortar-gallery in one of his extravagant gyrations.

”That won't do, Pup,” said Bremner, shaking his head at the creature, whose countenance expressed deep contrition. ”Don't go on like that, else you'll fall into the sea and be drownded, and then I shall be left alone. What a dark night it is, to be sure! I doubt if it was wise of me to stop here. Suppose the beacon were to be washed away?”

Bremner paused, and Pup wagged his tail interrogatively, as though to say, ”What then?”

”Ah! it's of no use supposin',” continued the man slowly. ”The beacon has stood it out all winter, and it ain't likely it's goin' to be washed away to-night. But suppose I was to be took bad?”

Again the dog seemed to demand, ”What then?”

”Well, that's not very likely either, for I never was took bad in my life since I took the measles, and that's more than twenty years ago.

Come, Pup, don't let us look at the black side o' things, let us try to be cheerful, my dog. Hallo!”

The exclamation was caused by the appearance of a green billow, which in the uncertain light seemed to advance in a threatening att.i.tude towards the beacon as if to overwhelm it, but it fell at some distance, and only rolled in a churning sea of milky foam among the posts, and sprang up and licked the beams, as a serpent might do before swallowing them.

”Come, it was the light deceived me. If I go for to start at every wave like that I'll have a poor night of it, for the tide has a long way to rise yet. Let's go and have a bit supper, lad.”

Bremner rose from the anvil, on which he had seated himself, and went up the ladder into the cook-house above. Here all was pitch dark, owing to the place being enclosed all round, which the mortar-gallery was not, but a light was soon struck, a lamp trimmed, and the fire in the stove kindled.

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