CHAPTER FIVE.
A TERRIBLE SITUATION.
There were four rooms and a lantern in Rudyerd's lighthouse. The secondroom was that which was used most by John Potter and his mate IsaacDorkin: it was the kitchen, dining room, and parlour, all in one.Immediately below it was the store-room, and just above it thedormitory.
The general tenor of the life suited John exactly: he was aquiet-spirited, meditative, religious man; and, although quite willingto face difficulties, dangers, and troubles like a man, when required todo so, he did not see it to be his duty to thrust himself unnecessarilyinto these circumstances. There were plenty of men, he was wont to say,who loved bustle and excitement, and there were plenty of situations ofthat sort for them to fill; for his part, he loved peace and quiet; theEddystone lighthouse offered both, and why should he not take advantageof the opportunity, especially when, by so doing, he would secure apretty good and regular income for his wife and family.
John gave vent to an opinion which contained deeper truths than, at thattime, he thought of. God has given to men their varied powers andinclinations, in order that they may use these powers and follow theseinclinations. Working rightly, man is a perfect machine: it is only"the fall" which has twisted all things awry. There is no sin infeeling an intense desire for violent physical action, or in gratifyingthat desire when we can do so in accordance with the revealed will ofGod; but there is sin in gratifying it in a wrong way; in committingburglary for instance, or in prize-fighting, or in helping others tofight in a cause with which we have no right to interfere. Again, it isnot wrong to desire peace and quiet, and to wish for mental andspiritual and physical repose; but it is decidedly wrong to stand bywith your hands in your pockets when an innocent or helpless one isbeing assaulted by ruffians; to sit quiet and do nothing when yourneighbour's house is on fire; to shirk an unpleasant duty and leave someone else to do it; or to lie a-bed when you should be up and at work.
_All_ our powers were given to be used: our inclinations were intendedto impel us in _certain_ directions, and God's will and glory were meantto be our guide and aim. So the Scripture teaches, we think, in theparable of the talents, and in the words, "_Whatsoever_ thy hand findethto do, do it with thy might;" and, "Whether, therefore, ye eat, ordrink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God."
Our great fault lies in not consulting God's plan of arrangement. Howoften do we find that, in adopting certain lines of action, men consultonly the pecuniary or social advantage; ignoring powers, or want ofpowers, and violating inclinations; and this even among professingChristians; while, among the unbelieving, God's will and glory are notthought of at all. And yet we wonder that so many well-laid plansmiscarry, that so many promising young men and women "come to grief!"Forgetting that "the right man (or woman) in the right place" is anessential element in thorough success.
But, to return to John Potter. His conscience was easy as to his dutyin becoming a lightkeeper, and the lighthouse was all that he couldwish, or had hoped for. There was no disturbance from without, for thethick walls and solid foundation defied winds or waves to trouble him;save only in the matter of smoke, which often had a strong tendency totraverse the chimney in the wrong direction, but that was not worthmentioning! John found, however, that _sin_ in the person of his matemarred his peace and destroyed his equanimity.
Isaac Dorkin did not find the life so much to his taste as he hadexpected. He became more grumpy than ever, and quarrelled with hisfriend on the slightest provocation; insomuch that at last John found itto be his wisest plan to let him alone. Sometimes, in consequence ofthis pacific resolve, the two men would spend a whole month withoututtering a word to each other; the one in the sulks, the other waitinguntil he should come out of them.
Their duties were light, but regular. During the day they found asufficiency of quiet occupation in cooking their food, cleaning. Thelighting apparatus--which consisted of a framework full of tallowcandles,--and in keeping the building clean and orderly. At night theykept watch, each four hours at a time, while the other slept. Whilewatching, John read his Bible and several books which had been given tohim by Mr Rudyerd; or, in fine weather, paced round and round thegallery, just outside the lantern, in profound meditation. Dorkin also,during his watches, meditated much; he likewise grumbled a good deal,and smoked continuously. He was not a bad fellow at bottom, however,and sometimes he and Potter got on very amicably. At such seasons Johntried to draw his mate into religious talk, but without success. Thus,from day to day and year to year, these two men stuck to their post,until eleven years had passed away.
One day, about the end of that period, John Potter, who, having attainedto the age of fifty-two, was getting somewhat grey, though still in fullstrength and vigour, sat at his chimney corner beside his buxom andstill blooming wife. His fireside was a better one than in days ofyore,--thanks to Tommy, who had become a flourishing engineer: MrsPotter's costume was likewise much better in condition and quality thanit used to be; thanks, again, to Tommy, who was a grateful and lovingson.
"Well, Martha, I've had a pleasant month ashore, lass: I wish that Ihadn't to go off on relief to-morrow."
"Why not leave it altogether, then, John? You've no occasion tocontinue a light-keeper now that you've laid by so much, and Tommy is sowell off and able to help us, an' willin' too--God bless him!"
"Amen to that, Martha. I have just bin thinkin' over the matter, andI've made up my mind that this is to be my last trip off to the Rock. Ispoke to the superintendent last week, and it's all settled. Who d'yethink is to take my place?"
"I never could guess nothink, John: who?"
"Teddy Maroon: no less."
"What? an' 'im a' older man than yourself?"
"Ah, but it ain't the same Teddy. It's his eldest son, named afterhimself; an' so like what his father was when I last saw him, that Idon't think I'd be able to tell which was which."
"Well, John, I'm glad to 'ear it; an' be sure that ye git 'ome, nextrelief before the thirty-first of October, for that's Tommy's weddingday, an' you know we fixed it a purpose to suit your time of being at'ome. A sweet pair they'll make. Nora was born to be a lady: nobodywould think but she is one, with 'er pretty winsome ways; and Tommy, whowas twenty-five 'is very last birthday, is one of the 'andsomest men inPlymouth. I've a settled conviction, John, that he'll live to be agreat man."
"You once had a settled conviction that he would come to a bad end,"said Potter, with an arch smile.
"Go along with you, John!" retorted Mrs Potter.
"I'm just going," said John, rising and kissing his wife as he put onhis hat; "and you may depend on it that I'll not miss dancing at ourTommy's wedding, if I can help it."
That night saw John Potter at his old post again--snuffing the candleson the Eddystone, and chatting with his old mate Dorkin beside thekitchen fire. One evening towards the end of October, John Potter andIsaac, having "lighted up," sat down to a game of draughts. It wasblowing hard outside, and heavy breakers were bursting on the rock andsending thin spray as high as the lantern, but all was peace and comfortinside; even Isaac's grumpy spirit was calmer than usual.
"You seem dull to-night, mate," observed John, as they re-arranged thepieces for another game.
"I don't feel very well," said Dorkin, passing his hand over his browlanguidly.
"You'd better turn in, then; an' I'll take half of your watch as well asmy own."
"Thank 'ee kindly," said Dorkin in a subdued voice: "I'll take yeradvice. Perhaps," he added slowly, "you'll read me a bit out o' _theBook_."
This was the first time that Isaac had expressed a desire to touch onreligious subjects, or to hear the Bible read; and John, you may besure, was only too glad to comply. After his mate had lain down, heread a small portion; but, observing that he seemed very restless, heclosed the Bible and contented himself with quoting the following wordsof our Lord Jesus: "Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavyladen, and I will give you rest;" and, "The blood o
f Jesus Christ God'sSon, cleanseth us from all sin." Then in a sentence or two he prayedfervently that the Holy Spirit might apply these words.
John had a suspicion that his mate was on the verge of a seriousillness, and he was not wrong. Next day, Dorkin was stricken with araging fever, and John Potter had not only to nurse him day and night,but to give constant attention to the lantern as well. Fortunately, theday after that the relief boat would be out, so he consoled himself withthat thought; but the gale, which had been blowing for some days,increased that night until it blew a perfect hurricane. The sea roundthe Eddystone became a tremendous whirlpool of foam, and all hope ofcommunication with the shore was cut off. Of course the unfortunatelighthouse-keeper hung out a signal of distress, although he knew fullwell that it could not be replied to.
Meanwhile a wedding party assembled in Plymouth. The bride was bloomingand young; the bridegroom--strong and happy; but there was a shade uponhis brow as he approached a stout elderly female, and said, sadly, "Ican't tell you, mother, how grieved I am that father is not with usto-day. I would be quite willing to put it off, and so would Nora, fora few days, but there is no appearance of the storm abating; and,indeed, if even it stopped this moment, I don't think the relief-boatcould get off in less than a week."
"I know it, Tommy." (It seemed ridiculous to call a strapping,curly-haired, bewhiskered, six-foot man "Tommy"!) "I know it, Tommy; butit ain't of no use puttin' of it off. I've always 'ad a settledconviction that anythink as is put off is as good as given upaltogether. No, no, my son; go on with the weddin'."
So the wedding went on, and Nora Vining, a dark-haired Plymouth maiden,became Mrs Thomas Potter; and the breakfast was eaten, and the healthswere drunk, and the speeches made, and Mrs Potter, senior, weptprofusely (for joy) nearly all the time, into a white cottonhandkerchief, which was so large and strong that some of the guestsentertained the belief to the end of their lives that the worthy womanhad had it manufactured for her own special use on that great occasion.
Meanwhile the father, whose absence was regretted so much, and whoseheart would have rejoiced so much to have been there, remained in hislonely dwelling, out among the mad whirlpools in the wildest past of theraging sea. All day, and every day, his signal of distress streamedhorizontally in the furious gale, and fishermen stood on the shore andwondered what was wrong, and wished so earnestly that the gale would godown; but no one, not even the boldest among them all, imagined for amoment that a boat could venture to leave the shore, much less encounterthe seething billows on the Eddystone. As each night drew on, one byone the lights glimmered out above the rock, until the bright beams ofthe fully illuminated lantern poured like a flood through the murky air,and then men went home to their firesides, relieved to know that,whatever might be wrong, the keepers were at all events able to attendto their important duties.
Day after day Isaac Dorkin grew worse: he soon became delirious, and,strong though he was, John Potter was scarcely able to hold him down inbed. When the delirium first came on, John chanced to be in the lanternjust commencing to light up. When he was about to apply the light, heheard a noise behind him, and, turning hastily round, beheld the flushedface and blazing eyes of his mate rising through the trap door thatcommunicated with the rooms below. Leaving his work, John hastened tohis friend, and with some difficulty persuaded him to return to his bed;but no sooner had he got him into it and covered him up, than a newparoxysm came on, and the sick man arose in the strength of his agonyand hurled his friend to the other side of the apartment. John sprangup, and grappled with him while he was rushing towards the door. It wasan awful struggle that ensued. Both were large and powerful men; theone strong in a resolute purpose to meet boldly a desperate case, theother mad with fever. They swayed to and fro, and fell on and smashedthe homely furniture of the place; sometimes the one and sometimes theother prevailing, while both gasped for breath and panted vehemently;suddenly Dorkin sank down exhausted. He appeared to collapse, and Johnlifted him with difficulty again into his bed; but in a few seconds heattempted to renew the struggle, while the whole building was filledwith his terrific cries.
While this was going on, the shades of night had been falling fast, andJohn Potter remembered that none of the candles had been lit, and thatin a few minutes more the rock would be a source of greater danger toshipping than if no lighthouse had been there, because vessels would bemaking for the light from all quarters of the world, in the full faithof its being kept up! Filled with horror at the thought that perhapseven at that moment vessels might be hurrying on to their doom, heseized a piece of rope that lay at hand, and managed to wind it sofirmly round his mate as to render him helpless. Bounding back to thelantern, he quickly lighted it up, but did not feel his heart relieveduntil he had gazed out at the snowy billows below, and made sure that novessel was in view. Then he took a long draught of water, wiped hisbrow, and returned to his friend.
Two days after that Isaac Dorkin died. And now John Potter foundhimself in a more horrible situation than before. The storm continued:no sooner did one gale abate than another broke out, so as to renderapproach to the rock impossible; while, day after day, and night afternight, the keeper had to pass the dead body of his mate several times inattending to the duties of the lantern. And still the signal ofdistress continued to fly from the lighthouse, and still the people onshore continued to wonder what was wrong, to long for moderate weather,and to feel relief when they saw the faithful light beam forth eachevening at sunset.
At last the corpse began to decay, and John felt that it was necessaryto get rid of it, but he dared not venture to throw it into the sea. Itwas well known that Dorkin had been a quarrelsome man, and he fearedthat if he could not produce the body when the relief came, he might bedeemed a _murderer_. He therefore let it lie until it became sooverpoweringly offensive that the whole building, from foundation tocupola, was filled with the horrible stench. The feelings of thesolitary man can neither be conceived nor described. Well was it forJohn that he had the Word of God in his hand, and the grace of God inhis heart during that awful period.
For nearly a month his agony lasted. At last the weather moderated.The boat came off; the "relief" was effected; and poor Dorkin's body,which was in such a condition that it could not be carried on shore, wasthrown into the sea. Then John Potter returned home, and left thelighthouse service for ever.
From that time forward it has been the custom to station not fewer thanthree men at a time on all out-lying lighthouses of the kingdom.
Note. Reader, we have not drawn here on our imagination. This story isfounded on unquestionable fact.
The Story of the Rock Page 5
