Robert Michael Ballantyne - The Lighthouse

“Not at all, blacksmiths are wanted there,” said the captain, “and I know that you were trained to that work as a boy.”

“True, I can do somewhat with the hammer, but mayhap they won’t engage me.”

“But they will engage you, lad, for they are hard up for an assistant blacksmith just now, and I happen to be hand-and-glove with some o’ the chief men of the yard, who’ll be happy to take anyone recommended by me.”

“Well, uncle, but suppose I do go off to the rock, what chance have you of making things appear better than they are at present?”

“I’ll explain that, lad. In the first place, Major Stewart is a gentleman, out-and-out, and will listen to the truth. He swears that the robbery took place at one o’clock in the mornin’, for he looked at his watch and at the clock of the house, and heard it ring in the town, just as the thieves cleared off over the wall. Now, if I can get your old skipper to take a run here on his return from the West Indies, he’ll swear that you was sailin’ out to the North Sea before twelve , and that’ll prove that you couldn’t have had nothin’ to do with it, d’ye see?”

“It sounds well,” said Ruby dubiously, “but do you think the lawyers will see things in the light you do?”

“Hang the lawyers! d’ye think they will shut their eyes to the truth ?”

“Perhaps they may, in which case they will hang me , and so prevent my taking your advice to hang them ,” said Ruby.

“Well, well, but you agree to my plan?” asked the captain.

“Shall I agree, Minnie? it will separate me from you again for some time.”

“Yet it is necessary,” answered Minnie, sadly; “yes, I think you should agree to go.”

“Very well, then, that’s settled,” said Ruby, “and now let us drop the subject, because I have other things to speak of; and if I must start before daylight my time with you will be short—”

“Come here a bit, nephy, I want to have a private word with ’ee in my cabin,” said the captain, interrupting him, and going into his own room. Ruby rose and followed.

“You haven’t any—”

The captain stopped, stroked his bald head, and looked perplexed.

“Well, uncle?”

“Well, nephy, you haven’t—in short, have ye got any money about you, lad?”

“Money? yes, a little ; but why do you ask?”

“Well, the fact is, that your poor mother is hard up just now,” said the captain earnestly, “an’ I’ve given her the last penny I have o’ my own; but she’s quite—”

Ruby interrupted his uncle at this point with a boisterous laugh. At the same time he flung open the door and dragged the old man with gentle violence back to the kitchen.

“Come here, uncle.”

“But, avast! nephy, I haven’t told ye all yet.”

“Oh! don’t bother me with such trifles just now,” cried Ruby, thrusting his uncle into a chair and resuming his own seat at his mother’s side; “we’ll speak of that at some other time; meanwhile let me talk to mother.”

“Minnie, dear,” he continued, “who keeps the cash here; you or mother?”

“Well, we keep it between us,” said Minnie, smiling; “your mother keeps it in her drawer and gives me the key when I want any, and I keep an account of it.”

“Ah! well, mother, I have a favour to ask of you before I go.”

“Well, Ruby ?”

“It is that you will take care of my cash for me. I have got a goodish lot of it, and find it rather heavy to carry in my pockets—so, hold your apron steady and I’ll give it to you.”

Saying this he began to empty handful after handful of coppers into the old woman’s apron; then, remarking that “that was all the browns”, he began to place handful after handful of shillings and sixpences on the top of the pile until the copper was hid by silver.

The old lady, as usual when surprised, became speechless; the captain smiled and Minnie laughed, but when Ruby put his hand into another pocket and began to draw forth golden sovereigns, and pour them into his mother’s lap, the captain became supremely amazed, the old woman laughed, and,—so strangely contradictory and unaccountable is human nature,—Minnie began to cry.

Poor girl! the tax upon her strength had been heavier than anyone knew, heavier than she could bear, and the sorrow of knowing, as she had come to know, that it was all in vain, and that her utmost efforts had failed to “keep the wolf from the door”, had almost broken her down. Little wonder, then, that the sight of sudden and ample relief upset her altogether.

But her tears, being tears of joy, were soon and easily dried—all the more easily that it was Ruby who undertook to dry them.

Mrs Brand sat up late that night, for there was much to tell and much to hear. After she had retired to rest the other three continued to hold converse together until grey dawn began to appear through the chinks in the window-shutters. Then the two men rose and went out, while Minnie laid her pretty little head on the pillow beside Mrs Brand, and sought, and found, repose.

As Captain Ogilvy had predicted, Ruby was at once engaged as an assistant blacksmith on the Bell Rock. In fact, they were only too glad to get such a powerful, active young fellow into their service; and he was shipped off with all speed in the sloop Smeaton , with a few others who were going to replace some men who had become ill and were obliged to leave.

A light westerly breeze was blowing when they cast off the moorings of the sloop.

“Goodbye, Ruby,” said the captain, as he was about to step on the pier. “Remember your promise, lad, to keep quiet, and don’t try to get ashore, or to hold communication with anyone till you hear from me.”

“All right, uncle, I won’t forget, and I’ll make my mind easy, for I know that my case is left in good hands.”

Three hours elapsed ere the Smeaton drew near to the Bell Rock. During this time, Ruby kept aloof from his fellow-workmen, feeling disposed to indulge the sad thoughts which filled his mind. He sat down on the bulwarks, close to the main shrouds, and gazed back at the town as it became gradually less and less visible in the faint light of morning. Then he began to ponder his unfortunate circumstances, and tried to imagine how his uncle would set about clearing up his character and establishing his innocence; but, do what he would, Ruby could not keep his mind fixed for any length of time on any subject or line of thought, because of a vision of sweetness which it is useless to attempt to describe, and which was always accompanied by, and surrounded with, a golden halo.

At last the youth gave up the attempt to fix his thoughts, and allowed them to wander as they chose, seeing that they were resolved to do so whether he would or no. The moment these thoughts had the reins flung on their necks, and were allowed to go where they pleased, they refused, owing to some unaccountable species of perversity, to wander at all, but at once settled themselves comfortably down beside the vision with golden hair, and remained there.

This agreeable state of things was rudely broken in upon by the hoarse voice of the mate shouting—

“Stand by to let go the anchor.”

Then Ruby sprang on the deck and shook himself like a great mastiff, and resolved to devote himself, heart and soul, from that moment, to the work in which he was about to engage.

The scene that presented itself to our hero when he woke up from his dreams would have interested and excited a much less enthusiastic temperament than his.

The breeze had died away altogether, just as if, having wafted the Smeaton to her anchorage, there were no further occasion for its services. The sea was therefore quite calm, and as there had only been light westerly winds for some time past, there was little or none of the swell that usually undulates the sea. One result of this was, that, being high water when the Smeaton arrived, there was no sign whatever of the presence of the famous Bell Rock. It lay sleeping nearly two fathoms below the sea, like a grim giant in repose, and not a ripple was there to tell of the presence of the mariner’s enemy.