The Lighthouse | Page 8

In those days telegraphs, railroads, and penny papers did not exist.
Murders were committed then, as now, but little was said, and less was
known about them. Wrecks occurred then, as now, but few, except the
persons immediately concerned, heard of them. "Destructive fires",
"terrible accidents", and the familiar round of "appalling catastrophes"
occurred then, as now, but their influence was limited, and their

occurrence soon forgotten.
We would not be understood to mean that "now" (as compared with
"then"), all is right and well; that telegraphs and railways and daily
papers are all-potent and perfect. By no means. We have still much to
learn and to do in these improved times; and, especially, there is
wanting to a large extent among us a sympathetic telegraphy, so to
speak, between the interior of our land and the sea-coast, which, if it
existed in full and vigorous play, would go far to improve our condition,
and raise us in the esteem of Christian nations. Nevertheless, as
compared with now, the state of things then was lamentably imperfect.
The great storm came and went, having swept thousands of souls into
eternity, and hundreds of thousands of pounds into nonentity. Lifeboats
had not been invented. Harbours of refuge were almost unknown, and
although our coasts bristled with dangerous reefs and headlands,
lighthouses were few and far between. The consequence was, that
wrecks were numerous; and so also were wreckers,--a class of men,
who, in the absence of an efficient coastguard, subsisted to a large
extent on what they picked up from the wrecks that were cast in their
way, and who did not scruple, sometimes, to cause wrecks, by showing
false lights in order to decoy vessels to destruction.
We do not say that all wreckers were guilty of such crimes, but many of
them were so, and their style of life, at the best, had naturally a
demoralising influence upon all of them.
The famous Bell Rock, lying twelve miles off the coast of Forfarshire,
was a prolific source of destruction to shipping. Not only did numbers
of vessels get upon it, but many others ran upon the neighbouring
coasts in attempting to avoid it.
Ruby's father knew the navigation well, but, in the confusion and
darkness of the furious storm, he miscalculated his position and ran
upon the rock, where, as we have seen, his body was afterwards found
by the two fishermen. It was conveyed by them to the cottage of Mrs
Brand, and when Ruby entered he found his mother on her knees by the
bedside, pressing the cold hand of his father to her breast, and gazing

with wild, tearless eyes into the dead face.
We will not dwell upon the sad scenes that followed.
Ruby was now under the necessity of leaving home, because his mother
being deprived of her husband's support naturally turned in distress to
her son. But Ruby had no employment, and work could not be easily
obtained at that time in the town, so there was no other resource left
him but to go to sea. This he did in a small coasting sloop belonging to
an old friend, who gave him part of his wages in advance to enable him
to leave his mother a small provision, at least for a short time.
This, however, was not all that the widow had to depend on. Minnie
Gray was expert with her needle, and for some years past had
contributed not a little to the comforts of the household into which she
had been adopted. She now set herself to work with redoubled zeal and
energy. Besides this, Mrs Brand had a brother, a retired skipper, who
obtained the complimentary title of Captain from his friends. He was a
poor man, it is true, as regarded money, having barely sufficient for his
own subsistence, but he was rich in kindliness and sympathy, so that he
managed to make his small income perform wonders. On hearing of his
brother-in-law's death, Captain Ogilvy hastened to afford all the
consolation in his power to his sorrowing sister.
The captain was an eccentric old man, of rugged aspect. He thought
that there was not a worse comforter on the face of the earth than
himself, because, when he saw others in distress, his heart invariably
got into his throat, and absolutely prevented him from saying a single
word. He tried to speak to his sister, but all he could do was to take her
hand and weep. This did the poor widow more good than any words
could have done, no matter how eloquently or fitly spoken. It unlocked
the fountain of her own heart, and the two wept together.
When Captain Ogilvy accompanied Ruby on board the sloop to see him
off, and shook hands as he was