The Lighthouse by Robert Ballantyne

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From that night forward he deliberately dropped his pipe every night
over the side of his hammock before going to sleep.

The captain, in commenting on this subject, was wont to observe that
everything in life, no matter how small, afforded matter of thought
to philosophical men. He had himself found a pleasing subject of
study each morning in the fact that some of the pipes survived the
fall of the previous night. This led him to consider the nature of
clay pipes in general, and to test them in various ways. It is true
he did not say that anything of importance resulted from his peculiar
studies, but he argued that a true philosopher looks for facts, and
leaves results alone. One discovery he undoubtedly did make, which
was, that the pipes obtained from a certain maker in the town
invariably broke, while those obtained from another maker broke only
occasionally. Hence he came to the conclusion that one maker was an
honest man, the other a doubtful character, and wisely bestowed his
custom in accordance with that opinion.

About one minute after the falling of the pipe Ruby Brand fell
asleep, and about two minutes after that Captain Ogilvy began to
snore, both of which conditions were maintained respectively and
uninterruptedly until the birds began to whistle and the sun began to
shine.

CHAPTER XVII

A MEETING WITH OLD FRIENDS, AND AN EXCURSION

Next morning the captain and his nephew "bore down", as the former
expressed it, on the workyard, and Ruby was readily accepted, his
good qualities having already been well tested at the Bell Rock.

"Now, boy, we'll go and see about the little preventive craft," said
the captain on quitting the office.

"But first," said Ruby, "let me go and tell my old comrade Dove that
I am to be with him again."

There was no need to enquire the way to the forge, the sound of the
anvil being distinctly heard above all the other sounds of that busy
spot.

The workyard at Arbroath, where the stones for the lighthouse were
collected and hewn into shape before being sent off to the rock, was
an enclosed piece of ground, extending to about three-quarters of an
acre, conveniently situated on the northern side of the Lady Lane, or
Street, leading from the western side of the harbour.

Here were built a row of barracks for the workmen, and several
apartments connected with the engineer's office, mould-makers'
department, stores, workshops for smiths and joiners, stables, &c.,
extending 150 feet along the north side of the yard. All of these
were fully occupied, there being upwards of forty men employed
permanently.

Sheds of timber were also constructed to protect the workmen in wet
weather; and a kiln was built for burning lime. In the centre of the
yard stood a circular platform of masonry on which the stones were
placed when dressed, so that each stone was tested and marked, and
each "course" or layer of the lighthouse fitted up and tried, before
being shipped to the rock.

The platform measured 44 feet in diameter. It was founded with large
broad stones at a depth of about 2 feet 6 inches, and built to within
10 inches of the surface with rubble work, on which a course of
neatly dressed and well-jointed masonry was laid, of the red
sandstone from the quarries to the eastward of Arbroath, which
brought the platform on a level with the surface of the ground. Here
the dressed part of the first entire course, or layer, of the
lighthouse was lying, and the platform was so substantially built as
to be capable of supporting any number of courses which it might be
found convenient to lay upon it in the further progress of the work.

Passing this platform, the captain and Ruby threaded their way
through a mass of workyard _debris_ until they came to the building
from which the sounds of the anvil proceeded. For a few minutes they
stood looking at our old friend Jamie Dove, who, with bared arms, was
causing the sparks to fly, and the glowing metal to yield, as
vigorously as of old. Presently he ceased hammering, and turning to
the fire thrust the metal into it. Then he wiped his brow, and
glanced towards the door.

"What! eh! Ruby Brand?" he shouted in surprise.

"Och! or his ghost!" cried Ned O'Connor, who had been Appointed to
Ruby's vacant situation.

"A pretty solid ghost you'll find me," said Ruby with a laugh, as he
stepped forward and seized the smith by the hand.

"Musha! but it's thrue," cried O'Connor, quitting the bellows, and
seizing Ruby's disengaged hand, which he shook almost as vehemently
as the smith did the other.

"Now, then, don't dislocate him altogether," cried the captain, who
was much delighted with this warm reception; "he's goin' to jine you,
boys, so have mercy on his old timbers."

"Jine us!" cried the smith.

"Ay, been appointed to the old berth," said Ruby, "so I'll have to
unship _you_, Ned."

"The sooner the better; faix, I niver had much notion o' this fiery
style o' life; it's only fit for sallymanders and bottle-imps. But
when d'ye begin work, lad?"

"To-morrow, I believe. At least, I was told to call at the office
to-morrow. To-day I have an engagement."

"Ay, an' it's time we was under weigh," said Captain Ogilvy, taking
his nephew by the arm. "Come along, lad, an' don't keep them
waiting."

So saying they bade the smith goodbye, and, leaving the forge, walked
smartly towards that part of the harbour where the boats lay.

"Ruby," said the captain, as they went along, "it's lucky it's such a
fine day, for Minnie is going with us."

Ruby said nothing, but the deep flush of pleasure that overspread his
countenance proved that he was not indifferent to the news.

"You see she's bin out of sorts," continued the captain, "for some
time back; and no wonder, poor thing, seein' that your mother has
been so anxious about you, and required more than usual care, so I've
prevailed on the leftenant to let her go. She'll get good by our
afternoon's sail, and we won't be the worse of her company. What say
ye to that, nephy?"

Ruby said that he was glad to hear it; but he thought a great deal
more than he said, and among other things he thought that the
lieutenant might perhaps be rather in the way; but as his presence
was unavoidable, he made up his mind to try to believe that he, the
lieutenant, would in all probability be an engaged man already. As to
the possibility of his seeing Minnie and being indifferent to her (in
the event of his being a free man), he felt that such an idea was
preposterous! Suddenly a thought flashed across him and induced a
question--

"Is the lieutenant married, uncle?"

"Not as I know of, lad; why d'ye ask?"

"Because--because--married men are so much pleasanter than----"

Ruby stopped short, for he just then remembered that his uncle was a
bachelor.

"'Pon my word, youngster! go on, why d'ye stop in your purlite
remark?"

"Because," said Ruby, laughing, "I meant to say that _young_ married
men were so much more agreeable than _young_ bachelors."

"Humph!" ejaculated the captain, who did not see much force in the
observation, "and how d'ye know the leftenant's a _young_ man? I
didn't say he was young; mayhap he's old. But here he is, so you'll
judge for yourself."

At the moment a tall, deeply-bronzed man of about thirty years of age
walked up and greeted Captain Ogilvy familiarly as his "buck",
enquiring, at the same time, how his "old timbers" were, and where
the "bit of baggage" was.

"She's to be at the end o' the pier in five minutes," said the
captain, drawing out and consulting a watch that was large enough to
have been mistaken for a small eight-day clock. "This is my nephy,
Ruby. Ruby Brand--Leftenant Lindsay. True blues, both of ye--

'When shall we three meet again?
Where the stormy winds do blow, do blow, do blow,
And the thunder, lightenin', and the rain,
Riots up above, and also down below, below, below.'

Ah! here comes the pretty little craft."

Minnie appeared as he spoke, and walked towards them with a modest,
yet decided air that was positively bewitching.

She was dressed in homely garments, but that served to enhance the
beauty of her figure, and she had on the plainest of little bonnets,
but that only tended to make her face more lovely. Ruby thought it
was perfection. He glanced at Lieutenant Lindsay, and perceiving that
he thought so too (as how could he think otherwise?) a pang of
jealousy shot into his breast. But it passed away when the
lieutenant, after politely assisting Minnie into the boat, sat down
beside the captain and began to talk earnestly to him, leaving
Minnie entirely to her lover. We may remark here, that the title of
"leftenant", bestowed on Lindsay by the captain was entirely
complimentary.

The crew of the boat rowed out of the harbour, and the lieutenant
steered eastward, towards the cliffs that have been mentioned in an
earlier part of our tale.

The day turned out to be one of those magnificent and exceptional
days which appear to have been cut out of summer and interpolated
into autumn. It was bright, warm, and calm, so calm that the boat's
sail was useless, and the crew had to row; but this was, in Minnie's
estimation, no disadvantage, for it gave her time to see the caves
and picturesque inlets which abound all along that rocky coast. It
also gave her time to--but no matter.

"O how very much I should like to have a little boat," said Minnie,
with enthusiasm, "and spend a long day rowing in and out among
these wild rocks, and exploring the caves! Wouldn't it be delightful,
Ruby?"

Ruby admitted that it would, and added, "You shall have such a day,
Minnie, if we live long."

"Have you ever been in the _Forbidden Cave?_" enquired Minnie.

"I'll warrant you he has," cried the captain, who overheard the
question; "you may be sure that wherever Ruby is forbidden to go,
there he'll be sure to go!"

"Ay, is he so self-willed?" asked the lieutenant, with a smile, and
a glance at Minnie.

"A mule; a positive mule," said the captain.

"Come, uncle, you know that I don't deserve such a character, and
it's too bad to give it to me to-day. Did I not agree to come on this
excursion at once, when you asked me?"

"Ay, but you wouldn't if I had _ordered_ you," returned the captain.

"I rather think he would," observed the lieutenant, with another
smile, and another glance at Minnie.

Both smiles and glances were observed and noted by Ruby, whose heart
felt another pang shoot through it; but this, like the former,
subsided when the lieutenant again addressed the captain, and devoted
himself to him so exclusively, that Ruby began to feel a touch of
indignation at his want of appreciation of _such_ a girl as Minnie.

"He's a stupid ass," thought Ruby to himself, and then, turning to
Minnie, directed her attention to a curious natural arch on the
cliffs, and sought to forget all the rest of the world.

In this effort he was successful, and had gradually worked himself
into the firm belief that the world was paradise, and that he and
Minnie were its sole occupants--a second edition, as it were, of Adam
and Eve--when the lieutenant rudely dispelled the sweet dream by
saying sharply to the man at the bow-oar--

"Is that the boat, Baker? You ought to know it pretty well."

"I think it is, sir," answered the man, resting on his oar a moment,
and glancing over his shoulder; "but I can't be sure at this
distance."

"Well, pull easy," said the lieutenant; "you see, it won't do to
scare them, Captain Ogilvy, and they'll think we're a pleasure party
when they see a woman in the boat."

Ruby thought they would not be far wrong in supposing them a pleasure
party. He objected, mentally, however, to Minnie being styled a
"woman"--not that he would have had her called a man, but he thought
that _girl_ would have been more suitable--angel, perhaps, the most
appropriate term of all.

"Come, captain, I think I will join you in a pipe," said the
lieutenant, pulling out a tin case, in which he kept the blackest of
little cutty pipes. "In days of old our ancestors loved to fight--now
we degenerate souls love to smoke the pipe of peace."

"I did not know that your ancestors were enemies," said Minnie to the
captain.

"Enemies, lass! ay, that they were. What! have ye never heard tell o'
the great fight between the Ogilvys and Lindsays?"

"Never," said Minnie.

"Then, my girl, your education has been neglected, but I'll do what I
can to remedy that defect."

Here the captain rekindled his pipe (which was in the habit of going
out, and requiring to be relighted), and, clearing his throat with
the emphasis of one who is about to communicate something of
importance, held forth as follows.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE BATTLE OF ARBROATH, AND OTHER WARLIKE MATTERS

"It was in the year 1445--that's not far short o' four hundred years
ago--ah! _tempus fugit_, which is a Latin quotation, my girl, from
Horace Walpole, I believe, an' signifies time and tide waits for no
man; that's what they calls a free translation, you must know; well,
it was in the winter o' 1445 that a certain Alexander Ogilvy of
Inverquharity was chosen to act as Chief Justiciar in these parts--I
suppose that means a kind of upper bailiff, a sort o' bo's'n's mate,
to compare great things with small. He was set up in place of one o'
the Lindsay family, who, it seems, was rather extravagant, though
whether his extravagance lay in wearin' a beard (for he was called
Earl Beardie), or in spendin' too much cash, I can't take upon me for
to say. Anyhow, Beardie refused to haul down his colours, so the
Ogilvys mustered their men and friends, and the Lindsays did the
same, and they went at it, hammer and tongs, and fowt what ye may
call the Battle of Arbroath, for it was close to the old town where
they fell to.

"It was a most bloody affair. The two families were connected with
many o' the richest and greatest people in the land, and these went
to lend a hand when they beat to quarters, and there was no end o'
barbed horses, as they call them--which means critters with steel
spikes in their noses, I'm told--and lots of embroidered banners and
flags, though I never heard that anyone hoisted the Union Jack; but,
however that may be, they fowt like bluejackets, for five hundred men
were left dead on the field, an' among them a lot o' the great folk.

"But I'm sorry to say that the Ogilvys were licked, though I say it
that shouldn't," continued the captain, with a sigh, as he relighted
his pipe. "Howsever,

'Never ventur', never win,
Blaze away an' don't give in,"

as Milton remarks in his preface to the _Pilgrim's Progress_."

"True, captain," said the lieutenant, "and you know that 'he who
fights and runs away, shall live to fight another day'." "Leftenant,"
said the captain gravely, "your quotation, besides bein' a kind o'
desecration, is not applicable; 'cause the Ogilvys did _not_ run
away. They fowt on that occasion like born imps, an' they would ha'
certainly won the day, if they hadn't been, every man jack of 'em,
cut to pieces before the battle was finished."

"Well said, uncle," exclaimed Ruby, with a laugh. "No doubt the
Ogilvys would lick the Lindsays _now_ if they had a chance."

"I believe they would," said the lieutenant, "for they have become a
race of heroes since the great day of the Battle of Arbroath. No
doubt, Miss Gray," continued the lieutenant, turning to Minnie with
an arch smile, "no doubt you have heard of that more recent event,
the threatened attack on Arbroath by the French fire-eater, Captain
Fall, and the heroic part played on that occasion by an Ogilvy--an
uncle, I am told, of my good friend here?"

"I have heard of Captain Fall, of course," replied Minnie, "for it
was not many years before I was born that his visit took place, and
Mrs. Brand has often told me of the consternation into which the town
was thrown by his doings; but I never heard of the deeds of the
Ogilvy to whom you refer."

"No? Now, that _is_ surprising! How comes it, captain, that you have
kept so silent on this subject?"

"'Cause it ain't true," replied the captain stoutly, yet with a
peculiar curl about the corners of his mouth, that implied something
in the mind beyond what he expressed with the lips.

"Ah! I see--modesty," said Lindsay. "Your uncle is innately modest,
Miss Gray, and never speaks of anything that bears the slightest
resemblance to boasting. See, the grave solemnity with which he
smokes while I say this proves the truth of my assertion. Well,
since he has never told you, I will tell you myself. You have no
objection, captain?"

The captain sent a volume of smoke from his lips, and followed it up
with--

"Fire away, shipmet."

The lieutenant, having drawn a few whiffs in order to ensure the
continued combustion of his pipe, related the following anecdote,
which is now matter of history, as anyone may find by consulting the
archives of Arbroath.

"In the year 1781, on a fine evening of the month of May, the seamen
of Arbroath who chanced to be loitering about the harbour observed a
strange vessel manoeuvring in the offing. They watched and commented
on the motions of the stranger with considerable interest, for the
wary skill displayed by her commander proved that he was unacquainted
with the navigation of the coast, and from the cut of her jib they
knew that the craft was a foreigner. After a time she took up a
position, and cast anchor in the bay, directly opposite the town.

"At that time we were, as we still are, and as it really appears
likely to me we ever shall be, at war with France; but as the scene
of the war was far removed from Arbroath, it never occurred to the
good people that the smell of powder could reach their peaceful town.
That idea was somewhat rudely forced upon them when the French flag
was run up to the mizzen-top, and a white puff of smoke burst from
the vessel, which was followed by a shot, that went hissing over
their heads, and plumped right into the middle of the town!

"That shot knocked over fifteen chimney-pots and two weathercocks in
Market-gate, went slap through a house in the suburbs, and finally
stuck in the carcass of an old horse belonging to the Provost of the
town, which didn't survive the shock--the horse, I mean, not the
Provost.

"It is said that there was an old gentleman lying in bed in a room of
the house that the shot went through. He was a sort of 'hipped'
character, and believed that he could not walk, if he were to try
ever so much. He was looking quietly at the face of a great Dutch
clock when the shot entered and knocked the clock inside out, sending
its contents in a shower over the old gentleman, who jumped up and
rushed out of the house like a maniac! He was cured completely from
that hour. At least, so it's said, but I don't vouch for the truth of
the story.

"However, certain it is that the shot was fired, and was followed up
by two or three more; after which the Frenchman ceased firing, and a
boat was seen to quit the side of the craft, bearing a flag of truce.

"The consternation into which the town was thrown is said to have
been tremendous."

"That's false," interrupted the captain, removing his pipe while he
spoke. "The word ain't appropriate. The men of Arbroath doesn't know
nothin' about no such word as 'consternation '. They was _surprised_,
if ye choose, an' powerfully enraged mayhap, but they wasn't
consternated by no means,"

"Well, I don't insist on the point," said the lieutenant, "but
chroniclers write so----"

"Chroniclers write lies sometimes," interrupted the captain curtly.

"Perhaps they do; but you will admit, I dare say, that the women and
children were thrown into a great state of alarm."

"I'm not so sure of that," interposed Ruby. "In a town where the men
were so bold, the women and children would be apt to feel very much
at their ease. At all events, I am acquainted with some women who are
not easily frightened."

"Really, I think it is not fair to interrupt the story in this way,"
said Minnie, with a laugh.

"Right, lass, right," said the captain. "Come, leftenant, spin away
at yer yarn, and don't ventur' too much commentary thereon, 'cause
it's apt to lead to error, an' ye know, as the poet says--

'Errors in the heart breed errors in the brain,
An' these are apt to twist ye wrong again.'

I'm not 'xactly sure o' the precise words in this case, but that's
the sentiment, and everybody knows that sentiment is everything in
poetry, whether ye understand it or not. Fire away, leftenant, an'
don't be long-winded if ye can help it."

"Well, to return to the point," resumed Lindsay. "The town was
certainly thrown into a tremendous state of _some_ sort, for the
people had no arms of any kind wherewith to defend themselves. There
were no regular soldiers, no militia, and no volunteers. Everybody
ran wildly about in every direction, not knowing what to do. There
was no leader, and, in short, the town was very like a shoal of
small fish in a pool when a boy wades in and makes a dash amongst
them.

"At last a little order was restored by the Provost, who was a
sensible old man, and an old soldier to boot, but too infirm to take
as active a part in such an emergency as he would have done had he
been a dozen years younger. He, with several of the principal men of
the town, went down to the beach to receive the bearers of the flag
of truce.

"The boat was manned by a crew of five or six seamen, armed with
cutlasses, and arquebusses. As soon as its keel grated on the sand a
smart little officer leaped ashore, and presented to the Provost a
letter from Captain Fall, which ran somewhat in this fashion:--

"'AT SEA, _May twenty-third_.

"'GENTLEMEN,--I send these two words to inform you, that I will have
you to bring-to the French colour in less than a quarter of an hour,
or I set the town on fire directly. Such is the order of my master,
the King of France, I am sent by. Send directly the Mair and chiefs
of the town to make some agreement with me, or I'll make my duty.
It is the will of yours, G. FALL.

"'To MONSIEUR MAIB of the town
called Arbrought, or in his absence
to the chief man after him in Scotland.'

"On reading this the Provost bowed respectfully to the officer, and
begged of him to wait a few minutes while he should consult with his
chief men. This was agreed to, and the Provost said to his friends,
as he walked to a neighbouring house--

"'Ye see, freens, this whipper-snapper o' a tade-eater has gotten the
whup hand o' us; but we'll be upsides wi' him. The main thing is to
get delay, so cut away, Tam Cargill, and tak' horse to Montrose for
the sodgers. Spare na the spur, lad, an' gar them to understan' that
the case is urgent."

"While Tam Cargill started away on his mission, the Provost, whose
chief aim was to gain time and cause delay, penned an epistle to the
Frenchman, in which he stated that he had neglected to name the terms
on which he would consent to spare the town, and that he would
consider it extremely obliging if he would, as speedily as possible,
return an answer, stating them, in order that they might be laid
before the chief men of the place.

"When the Provost, who was a grave, dignified old man, with a strong
dash of humour in him, handed this note to the French officer, he did
so with a humble obeisance that appeared to afford much gratification
to the little man. As the latter jumped into the boat and ordered the
men to push off, the Provost turned slowly to his brother magistrates
with a wink and a quiet smile that convulsed them with suppressed
laughter, and did more to encourage any of the wavering or timid
inhabitants than if he had harangued them heroically for an hour.

"Some time after the boat returned with a reply, which ran thus:--

"'AT SEA, _eight o'clock in the Afternoon_,

"'GENTLEMEN,--I received just now your answer, by which you say I ask
no terms. I thought it was useless, since I asked you to come aboard
for agreement. But here are my terms:--I will have L30,000 sterling
at least, and six of the chiefs men of the town for otage. Be speedy,
or I shot your town away directly, and I set fire to it. I am,
gentlemen, your servant, G. FALL.

"'I sent some of my crew to you, but if some harm happens to them,
you'll be sure we'll hang up the mainyard all the prisoners we have
aboard.

"'To Monsieurs the chiefs men
of Arbrought in Scotland.'

"I'm not quite certain," continued the lieutenant, "what were the
exact words of the Provost's reply to this letter, but they conveyed
a distinct and contemptuous refusal to accede to any terms, and, I
believe, invited Fall to come ashore, where, if he did not get
precisely what he had asked, he would be certain to receive a great
deal more than he wanted.

"The enraged and disappointed Frenchman at once began a, heavy fire
upon the town, and continued it for a long time, but fortunately it
did little or no harm, as the town lay in a somewhat low position,
and Fall's guns being too much elevated, the shot passed over it.

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