The Floating Light of the Goodwin Sands | Page 7

pulleys to groan complainingly. At last it reached its destination at the head of the thick part of the mast, but about ten or fifteen feet beneath the ball. As it neared the top, Jerry sprang up the chain-ladder to connect the lantern with the rod and pinion by means of which, with clockwork beneath, it was made to revolve and "flash" once every third of a minute.
Simultaneously with the ascent of the Gull light there arose out of the sea three bright stars on the nor'-eastern horizon, and another star in the south-west. The first were the three fixed lights of the lightship that marked the North sandhead; the latter was the fixed light that guarded the South sandhead. The Goodwin sentinels were now placed for the night, and the commerce of the world might come and go, and pass those dreaded shoals, in absolute security.
Ere long the lights of the shipping in the Downs were hung out, and one by one the lamps on shore shone forth--those which marked the entrance of Ramsgate harbour being conspicuous for colour and brilliancy--until the water, which was so calm as to reflect them all, seemed alive with perpendicular streams of liquid fire; land and sea appearing to be the subjects of one grand illumination. A much less poetical soul than that of the enthusiastic lamp-lighter might have felt a touch of unwonted inspiration on such a night, and in such a scene. The effect on the mind was irresistibly tranquillising. While contemplating the multitudes of vessels that lay idle and almost motionless on the glassy water, the thought naturally arose that each black hull en-shrouded human beings who were gradually sinking into rest--relaxing after the energies of the past day--while the sable cloak of night descended, slowly and soothingly, as if God were spreading His hand gently over all to allay the fever of man's busy day-life and calm him into needful rest.
The watch of the floating light having been set, namely, two men to perambulate the deck--a strict watch being kept on board night and day-- the rest of the crew went below to resume work, amuse themselves, or turn in as they felt inclined.
While they were thus engaged, and darkness was deepening on the scene, Welton stood on the quarterdeck observing a small sloop that floated slowly towards the lightship. Her sails were indeed set, but no breath of wind bulged them out; her onward progress was caused by the tide, which had by that time begun to set with a strong current to the northward. When within about a cable's length, the rattle of her chain told that the anchor had been let go. A few minutes later, a boat was seen to push off from the sloop and make for the lightship. Two men rowed it and a third steered. Owing to the force of the current they made the vessel with some difficulty.
"Heave us a rope," cried one of the men, as they brushed past.
"No visitors allowed aboard," replied Mr Welton sternly; catching up, nevertheless, a coil of rope.
"Hallo! father, surely you've become very unhospitable," exclaimed another voice from the boat.
"Why, Jim, is that you, my son?" cried the mate, as he flung the coil over the side.
The boatmen caught it, and next moment Jim stood on the deck--a tall strapping young seaman of twenty or thereabouts--a second edition of his father, but more active and lithe in his motions.
"Why you creep up to us, Jim, like a thief in the night. What brings you here, lad, at such an hour?" asked Mr Welton, senior, as he shook hands with his son.
"I've come to have a talk with 'ee, father. As to creeping like a thief, a man must creep with the tide when there's no wind, d'ye see, if he don't come to an anchor. 'Tis said that time and tide wait for no man; that bein' so, I have come to see you now that I've got the chance. That's where it is. But I can't stay long, for old Jones will--"
"What!" interrupted the mate with a frown, as he led his son to the forepart of the vessel, in order to be out of earshot of the watch, "have 'ee really gone an' shipped with that scoundrel again, after all I've said to 'ee?"
"I have, father," answered the young man with a perplexed expression; "it is about that same that I've come to talk to 'ee, and to explain--"
"You have need to explain, Jim," said the mate sternly, "for it seems to me that you are deliberately taking up with bad company; and I see in you already one o' the usual consequences; you don't care much for your father's warnings."
"Don't say that, father," exclaimed the youth earnestly, "I am sure that if