Part 38 (1/2)
”I know what you mean, my lad; sit down.”
Spink sat down on the edge of the chair, and looked at the other uneasily.
”Have a cup of tea?” said the captain abruptly, seizing the small pot and pouring out a cupful.
”Thank 'ee--I--I niver tak' tea.”
”Take it to-night, then. It will do you good.”
Spink put the cup to his lips, and a look of deep surprise overspread his rugged countenance as he sipped the contents. The captain nodded.
Spink's look of surprise changed into a confidential smile; he also nodded, winked, and drained the cup to the bottom.
”Yes,” resumed the captain; ”you mean that you did not take the case of jewels from old Brand's pocket on that day when you found his body on the Bell Rock, though you were present, and saw your comrade pocket the booty. You see I know all about it, Davy, an' your only fault lay in concealing the matter, and in keepin' company with that scoundrel.”
The gaze of surprise with which Spink listened to the first part of this speech changed to a look of sadness towards the end of it.
”Captain Ogilvy,” said he, in a tone of solemnity that was a strong contrast to his usual easy, careless manner of speaking, ”you ca'd me an honest man, an' ye think I'm clear o' guilt in this matter, but ye're mista'en. Hoo ye cam' to find oot a' this I canna divine, but I can tell ye somethin' mair than ye ken. D'ye see that bag?”
He pulled a small leather purse out of his coat pocket, and laid it with a little bang on the table.
The captain nodded.
”Weel, sir, that was _my_ share o' the plunder, thretty goolden sovereigns. We tossed which o' us was to hae them, an' the siller fell to me. But I've niver spent a boddle o't. Mony a time have I been tempit, an' mony a time wad I hae gi'en in to the temptation, but for a certain la.s.s ca'd Janet, that's been an angel, it's my belief, sent doon frae heeven to keep me frae gawin to the deevil a'thegither. But be that as it may, I've brought the siller to them that owns it by right, an' so my conscience is clear o't at lang last.”
The sigh of relief with which Davy Spink pushed the bag of gold towards his companion, showed that the poor man's mind was in truth released from a heavy load that had crushed it for years.
The captain, who had lit his pipe, stared at the fisherman through the smoke for some time in silence; then he began to untie the purse, and said slowly, ”Spink, I said you were an honest man, an' I see no cause to alter my opinion.”
He counted out the thirty gold pieces, put them back into the bag, and the bag into his pocket. Then he continued, ”Spink, if this gold was mine I would--but no matter, it's not mine, it belongs to Widow Brand, to whom I shall deliver it up. Meantime, I'll bid you good night. All these things require reflection. Call back here to-morrow, my fine fellow, and I'll have something to say to you. Another cup of tea?”
”Weel, I'll no objec'.”
Davy Spink rose, swallowed the beverage, and left the cottage. The captain returned, and stood for some time irresolute with his hand on the handle of the door of his sister's room. As he listened, he heard a sob, and the tones of Minnie's voice as if in prayer. Changing his mind, he walked softly across the kitchen into his own room, where, having trimmed the candle, refilled and lit his pipe, he sat down at the table, and, resting his arms thereon, began to meditate.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
THE LIGHTHOUSE COMPLETED--RUBY'S ESCAPE FROM TROUBLE BY A DESPERATE VENTURE.
There came a time at last when the great work of building the Bell Rock Lighthouse drew to a close. Four years after its commencement it was completed, and on the night of the 1st of February, 1811, its bright beams were shed for the first time far and wide over the sea.
It must not be supposed, however, that this lighthouse required four years to build it. On the contrary, the seasons in which work could be done were very short. During the whole of the first season of 1807, the aggregate time of low-water work, caught by s.n.a.t.c.hes of an hour or two at a tide, did not amount to fourteen days of ten hours! while in 1808 it fell short of four weeks.
A great event is worthy of very special notice. We should fail in our duty to our readers if we were to make only pa.s.sing reference to this important event in the history of our country.
That 1st of February, 1811, was the birthday of a new era, for the influence of the Bell Rock Light on the s.h.i.+pping interests of the kingdom (not merely of Scotland, by any means), was far greater than people generally suppose.
Here is a _fact_ that may well be weighed with attention; that might be not inappropriately inscribed in diamond letters over the lintel of the lighthouse door. Up to the period of the building of the lighthouse, the known history of the Bell Rock was a black record of wreck, ruin, and death. Its unknown history, in remote ages, who shall conceive, much less tell? _Up_ to that period, seamen dreaded the rock and shunned it--ay, so earnestly as to meet destruction too often in their anxious efforts to avoid it. _From_ that period the Bell Rock has been a friendly point, a guiding star--hailed as such by storm-tossed mariners--marked as such on the charts of all nations. _From_ that date not a single night for more than half a century has pa.s.sed, without its wakeful eye beaming on the waters, or its fog-bells sounding on the air; and, best of all, _not a single wreck has occurred on that rock from that period down to the present day_!
Say not, good reader, that much the same may be said of all lighthouses.