Part 18 (1/2)

”As ve stoodt dere annuder big vave come sweeping ofer undt half drowned us. A big rock just missed mein headt, undt der vater go pouring down der stairs like a cascade.

”'Ve must go pelow undt shut der door at der bottom of der stairs,' I say; 'uddervise ve pe drowned oudt.'

”Der oldt man nodded as if he only half understoodt.

”'Yah, yah; drowned, drowned, drowned,' he saidt to himself; 'drowned like der poor folk on der wreck.'

”I got him down der stairs pefore annuder big vave come, undt den shut der door so dot no more big vaves come into der room. Budt der place vos a sight! Dere vos six inches of vater in dere vich hadn't flowed oudt unter der door. Budt liddle by liddle idt drained oudt.

”No more big vaves come. Idt look as if der storm, hafing wrecked der lighdthouse, vos content to lie down undt pe quiet for a vhile. Bimeby, ven der vind drop, I go out py der boiler house.

”Idt hadt gone! Vere idt hadt stood dere vos nudding! Dose vaves hadt taken idt off der rock as if idt hadt been a sh.e.l.lfis.h.!.+

”'Ach, dis is badt,' I say to meinself. 'Der lighdthouse is wrecked undt I lose my yob!'

”Der storm died down fast, undt py der time idt vos daylighdt, dere being nuddings to do budt to sit round undt vait for der supply boat to come back, I dropped off into a soundt sleep. I vakened oop an hour or two later. Der kitchen vere ve hadt been sitting vos empty. I vent up into der ruins of der lamp, budt oldt man Abbott vos not dere eidder.

”I call for him budt dere comes no answer. Den I go oudtside on der rock undt I findt him. He is lying very still on der edge of der vater. Close py him is a big log vich look like part of der spar of a s.h.i.+p. Preddy soon I see dat dere is someting on der spar, undt I look undt see dot idt is a man. He is quite dead, dat I see by a look adt his face.

”Den I look again. Undt den I see vy oldt man Abbott lies so still on der edge of der rock. Der face of der man on der spar vos der face of his son Harry! Undt oldt man Abbott is deadt.

”Der s.h.i.+p dot der oldt man, in some mysterious vay, heardt drive to her death on der rocks, vos his son's s.h.i.+p, der vun on vich he vos making his homevard voyage. Vell, for a day I stay on der rock midt der dead fadder undt der deadt son, undt den der relief s.h.i.+p come. Dey bury der oldt man undt der boy side py side der next day, undt I leave dot part of der country; undt since den I nefer see a lighdthouse budt I d.i.n.k of oldt man Abbott undt der homevard bound son he never saw.”

Not long after the conclusion of the old sailor's story, which left him glum and taciturn, the white spiral of the Sombrero Island Light came into view, sticking up like a finger on the sandy islet whose name it bore. As they drew closer, Jack could make out a solitary figure on the beach. It was the light keeper, who was soon greeting them with heartfelt grat.i.tude. He was probably a young man, but the anxiety he had been through had aged him in a few nights.

While the sailors were unloading the provisions and water, for drinking water on that desolate island could only be caught in tanks when it rained, Jack visited the other light keeper. He found him much better than he had been when the wireless message was sent out. In fact, after some of the remedies Dr. Flynn had sent had been administered, he declared he would be strong enough to go about his duty that night.

The light keepers explained that they were doubly anxious for a sight of the relief s.h.i.+p, for her appearance meant that they would go on a month's vacation, their places to be taken by two other men the relief craft was bringing out. Before they left the island, Jack had the satisfaction of spying a distant sail on the horizon. The light keeper, who was up and about, scrutinized it through his gla.s.s. He broke into an exclamation of thankfulness the next minute.

”It's the old _Solitaire_, sure enough!” he cried. ”She must have been delayed by storms.”

”Looks as if one of der top masdts, idt has been carried avay,” declared Schultz, who had borrowed the gla.s.s.

”Is the _Solitaire_ the relief s.h.i.+p?” asked Jack.

”Yes; the same old schooner that always comes. Oh, won't Barney be glad!

It'll be better to him than medicine.” And the keeper of the light ran toward the tower to tell his companion the good news.

And so, as they rowed back to the s.h.i.+p, they left the light keepers happy, but nevertheless old Schultz shook his head as he spoke of them.

”Aber, I'd radder pe a sea-cook dan a keeper py a lighdthouse,” he said with deep conviction; and added, nodding his head solemnly, ”I know.”

CHAPTER XXII

A DECOY MESSAGE

The following days pa.s.sed quickly and pleasantly. The friends.h.i.+p between De Garros and Jack ripened, being nourished, of course, by their mutual interest in wireless, of which De Garros was a capable exponent. He did not revert again to the subject of any previous acquaintance with Jarrold and his niece and, seeing his reticence concerning it, Jack avoided the topic.

At last Jamaica was sighted on the horizon. Some hours later they were steaming through a deep blue sea along brilliantly green sh.o.r.es, above which rose rugged peaks and mountains. Jack and Sam gazed with delight at the scene as it unrolled.