Rilla of the Lighthouse

by Grace May North

  CHAPTER VI. A SEARCHING PARTY.

  It was nearing midnight and the huge lamp in the tower above the cliffwas mechanically swinging in its great iron frame, hurling its beaconrays far out to sea, slowly, rythmically turning. For a brief moment theOuter Ledge was revealed, deserted and surf washed, then the almost evenroll of waves were illumined, their white crests flashing in the dazzleof light, to be again engulfed in darkness. Slowly the lamp turned towardthe town, where the three lanterns, two red and one white, still burnedon the end of the wharf to guide a homeward belated fisherman, then thelittle fleet of fishing boats and the cask-like buoy were for a momentrevealed. The summer colony of boarded-up cabins was next illumined; toothe low, rambling inn that would not be opened for many months; thenagain the wide path of light swung out to sea and started once more onits circling sweep that would continue until dawn.

  It was the custom of Captain Ezra to waken at midnight to be sure thatthe mechanism of the lamp was in perfect order. He was just descendingthe spiral stairway after a visit of inspection when there came animperative pounding without.

  Shags, sleeping outside of Rilla's door, heard it and leaped to his feetwith an ominous growl.

  The girl, startled from slumber, sprang from her bed and dressed quickly.She had often done this before when a crashing thunder storm had awakenedher, and she wanted to be on watch with her grand-dad. Her firstconscious thought had been that the expected equinoctial storms had come,but when the knocking continued and a man's voice called, "Cap'n Ezra,quick! Open the hatch," a new fear clutched at the heart of the girl.

  Perhaps the summons had something to do with Gene Beavers, the lad fromthe city. She had not been able the evening before to hail him from thetop of the cliff, but surely he could have kept warm if he wrapped wellin the sail cloth, and there had been food enough in the basket for twodays at least.

  Muriel was soon hurrying down the short flight of stairs that led fromher small room above the kitchen. Her grand-dad had already flung thedoor wide open and there Rilla saw several longshoremen in slickers andsou'westers, who were carrying lanterns. Doctor Winslow was in the lead,and his white, drawn face plainly told how great his anxiety had been.

  "Lem, ol' pal, what's gone wrong?" Captain Ezra inquired. He drew thephysician, who had been a friend of his boyhood, into the kitchen, whichwas still warm, as the fire in the stove had but recently died down and afew embers were burning.

  "Ez," Doctor Winslow began, when the men had entered and closed the door,"have you seen a young boy, a chap about eighteen, sailing anywhere nearWindy Island today? You've heard me speak of Dan Beavers, who was acollege mate of mine. Well, this is his son. He came to Tunkett to try toregain his strength after a serious illness. Truth is, he ought not tohave attempted to sail a boat alone. I wouldn't have permitted it if Ihad been at home, but I had several calls to make across the marshes, andwhen I go there I make a day of it."

  The old sea captain was shaking his grizzled head as his friend talked."No, Lem," he replied when the other paused. "I reckon yer off'n yerbearin's, I ain't sighted a city chap cruisin' 'round in these waters,not since the colony closed, but, for onct, I wish I had, bein' as it'ssome-un b'longin' to yo', mate."

  A cry from Rilla caused them all to turn and look at her as she stood inthe open stair door. Running to Doctor Winslow, she caught his hand."Uncle Lem," she said, "I know where he is, if it's a lad named GeneBeavers that yo're wantin'."

  Then, seeing the inquiring expression on the face of Captain Ezra, shehurried on to explain: "His boat was wrecked, Grand-dad, that's how hecome to be here, but I didn't dare to tell yo', yo're that sot agin citychaps. I didn't do anythin' that yo' wouldn't want me to, Grand-dad. Ididn't go near the cave where he was, not once in all the afternoon. Yo'know I didn't, for I stayed right with yo' a-mendin' the net."

  "I figger yo' did the best yo' could, fust mate," the old man replied; "Ical'late it's me that's bungled matters, makin' yo' skeered to come andtell things straight out. But like's not we'll find the boy sleepin' inthe cave. Don't let's hang out distress signals till we're sure we'regoin' to sink." As he talked he put on his slicker and cap, as the nightwind was cold. Then, taking a lighted lantern, Cap'n Ezra, after biddingRilla to liven up the fire and put the kettle on, opened the door and ledthe way to the top of the cliff. Making a trumpet of his hands, heshouted: "Ho, there, down below! Yo're wanted up on deck."

  Then they waited, listening, but the crashing of the surf was all thatthey heard. One of the younger men who was used to scaling cliffs,however steep, climbed down to the ledge and held his lantern so that thesmall cave was illumined. After a moment's scrutiny he called up to theanxious group: "Empty as an ol' clam shell. Nothin' in there but a boxan' a sail cloth that's spread out flat an' concealin' nobody."

  When Muriel heard the men returning, she threw open the door and hereager glance scanned the group, hoping to find among them her new friend,Gene Beavers. "He wa'n't thar, fust mate," the old sea captain saidgloomily, "an' I figger it's all my fault for bein' so tarnal sot agincity chaps. I reckoned, one bein' a scoundrel, they all was, like's not."Then, turning to Doctor Winslow, he added with spirit: "Lem, we won'tgive up yit. We'll throw out a drag net if need be. I'm goin' along,wherever yo' cruise to. Rilly gal can tend to the light for a spell. Icouldn't rest easy if I wa'n't tryin' to help locate the lad. The heft ofthis trouble comes from me being so tarnal sot about things."

  The physician placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Look here, Ez," hesaid, "neither you nor Rilla are to blame. The lad has not used goodjudgment, but older men than he is have failed in that, now and then. Youmustn't come with us. A heavy fog is rolling in and you might be neededany moment right here at the light. Some ship may send in a distresssignal and Rilla is only a little girl, after all, only fifteen, and wemustn't ask her to assume so serious a responsibility."

  While the physician was talking, the girl whom he had called "little" waspouring the tea she had made into four heavy cups and one of these shetook to Doctor Winslow, saying, "Uncle Lem, drink this, please do, 'foreyou go out agin into the wet fog, an', too, thar's a cup for each ofyou."

  The men seemed glad for the warmth of the beverage and then, when thecups had been drained, they started out, calling back that they wouldswing the red lanterns in a circle three times from the end of the townwharf if Gene Beavers was found that night.

  When they were gone, Rilla removed her grandfather's slicker and he sankdown in his armchair and buried his face in his hands.

  Muriel stood at his side, her arm about his neck, not knowing what tosay.

  Reaching up, the old man clasped the girl's hand in his big brown one ashe said: "Rilly gal, I figger yer ma was right, arter all. 'Dad,' saysshe, many's the time, 'it's hate that brings the sorrow an' trouble tothe world an' it's love that brings in the happiness.' Like's not mylittle gal'd be livin' now if I'd tried seein' things _her_ way; if I'dwelcomed the man she wanted to marry, 'stead of hatin' him an' turnin'him out. He went, when I tol' him to, an' he took my gal. I reckon it'sthat same sort o' hate that's fetched this trouble to my ol' messmate,Lem Winslow. I'm done wi' it, Rilly gal, done wi' hate, though I figgermos' likely it's too late."

  Muriel felt a hot tear splash on her hand. Pressing her fresh young cheekagainst the leathery one, she implored, "Don' be talkin' that way! How'sit too late, Grand-dad? We'll begin all over, shall we, yo' an' me; we'llbegin lovin' and not hate anyone at all, shall we, Grand-dad?"

  The old man did not reply, but he held the girl's hand in a tighterclasp. Then rising and going to the window, he stood for a moment lookingout into the darkness, waiting until the circling light would reveal thedory containing the three men.

  "That fog is so tarnal thick, they're like to lose their bearin's an'thar'd be no savin' 'em if they got drug into the surf at the pint."

  Then, after a moment of intense thought, the old man whirled, his faceset with a new determination. "Rilly gal,
I'm goin' to do it," he cried."I'd oughtn't to, but I'll take the chance." Then, noting the inquiringexpression of the girl's face, the old man explained: "I'm a-goin' tohold the big lamp so 'twill shine steady toward town till they get intoport. The Outer Ledge'll have to stay dark for a spell. It's a bigchance. I'd ought not to take it, but, by giggers, I'm goin' to!"