CHAPTER SEVEN.

  OLD FRIENDS IN NEW CIRCUMSTANCES.

  We open the story of the third, and still existing, lighthouse on theEddystone with the re-introduction of Teddy Maroon--that Teddy who actedso prominent a part at the burning of Rudyerd's tower in December 1755.

  Men's activities seem to have been quickened at this period of time, foronly about six months were allowed to elapse between the destruction ofthe old and the commencement of operations for the new lighthouse.

  It was a calm evening in the autumn 1756 when Teddy Maroon, smoking alittle black pipe, sauntered towards the residence of old John Potter.On reaching the door he extinguished the little pipe by the summaryprocess of thrusting the point of his blunt forefinger into the bowl,and deposited it hot in his vest pocket. His tap was answered by asmall servant girl, with a very red and ragged head of hair, who usheredhim into the presence of the aged couple. They were seated in the twochairs--one on each side of the fireplace--which they might almost besaid to inhabit. Little Nora was stirring a few embers of coal into acheery flame, for she knew the old people loved the sight of the fireeven in summer. On a chair beside old Martha lay the open Bible, fromwhich Nora had been reading, and on old Martha's knee was the valueddictionary, upside down as usual.

  "Glad to see you, lad," said old John, with a pleasant smile as heextended his hand; "it does us good to see you; it minds us so of oldtimes."

  "Ah, then, I've got to tell 'ee what'll mind you more of owld times thanthe mere sight o' me face," said Teddy, as he patted old Martha on theshoulder and sat down beside her. "How are 'ee, owld ooman?"

  "Ay," replied Martha in a tremulous voice, "you're uncommon like yourfather--as like as two peas."

  "Faix, av ye saw the dear owld gintleman now," said Teddy with a laugh,"ye'd think there was a difference. Hows'ever, its o' no use repaitin'me question, for any man could see that you're in the best o' health--you're bloomin' like a cabbage rose."

  The latter part of this complimentary speech was shouted into oldMartha's ear, and she responded by shaking her head and desiring theflatterer to "go along."

  "Well, John," said the visitor, turning to his father's old friend,"you'll be glad to hear that I've been engaged to work at the newlighthouse, an', moreover we've got fairly begun."

  "You _don't_ say so," cried John Potter, with some of the old firesparkling in his eyes; "well, now, that is pleasant noos. Why, it makesme a'most wish to be young again. Of course I heard that they've binhard at the preparations for a good while; but few people comes to seeme now; they think I'm too old to be interested in anything; I suppose;an' I didn't know that it was fairly begun, or that you were on thework: I'd like to hear what your old father would say to it, Teddy."

  "I don't know what he'd say to it," responded the Irishman, "but I knowwhat he threatens to do, for I wrote him the other day tellin' him allabout it, an' he bade my sister Kathleen write back that he's more norhalf a mind to come and superintend the operations."

  "What is it all about, Nora?" demanded old Martha, who had been gazingintently at her husband's countenance during the conversation.

  Nora put her pretty lips to her grandmother's ear and gave the desiredinformation, whereupon the old lady looked solemnly at her spouse, andlaying her hand on the dictionary, said, with strong though quiveringemphasis: "now, John, mark my words, I 'ave a settled conviction thatthat light'ouse will come to a bad end. It's sure to be burnt or blow'dover."

  Having given vent to which prophecy, she relapsed into herself andappeared to ruminate on it with peculiar satisfaction.

  "And what's the name of the architect?" demanded John.

  "Smeaton," replied Teddy Maroon.

  "Never heerd of 'im before," returned John.

  "No more did I," said Teddy.

  The two friends appeared to find food for meditation in this point ofignorance, for they fell into a state of silence for a few minutes,which was interrupted by the sudden entrance of Mr Thomas Potter. Helooked a little wearied as he sat down beside his mother, whose facelighted up with an expression of intense delight as she said, "Comeaway, Tommy, where have you been, my boy?"

  "I've been out on the sea, mother, after mischief as usual," repliedTommy, whose bald head and wrinkled brow repudiated, while his openhearty smile appeared to justify, the juvenile name.

  "What! they 'aven't engaged you on the noo light'ouse, 'ave they?" saidold Martha, in horror.

  "No, no, mother, don't fear that," said her son, hastening to relieveher mind, "but you know the new engineer is gathering information fromall quarters, and he naturally applied to me, because I am of his ownprofession and have known and studied the rock since I was a littleboy."

  "Know'd an' studied it," exclaimed Martha with more than her wontedvigour, "ay, an' if you'd said you'd a'most broke your old mother'sheart with it, you'd 'ave said no more than the truth, Tommy. It's awonder as that rock hasn't brought me to a prematoor grave. However, itain't likely to do so now, an' I'm glad they have not inveigled you intoit, my boy; for it's an awful place for wettin' of your feet an'dirt'in' of your hands and pinafores, an'--"

  The old lady, relapsing here into early reminiscences, once more retiredwithin herself, while. Teddy Maroon and John Potter, mentioning theirignorance as to the architect who had undertaken the great work,demanded of "Mister Thomas" if he could enlighten them.

  "Of course I can," he replied, "for he is well known to his friends as amost able man, and will become better known to the world, if I mayventure to prophesy, as the builder of what is sure to be the mostfamous lighthouse on the English coast. His name is Smeaton, and he isnot an engineer."

  "Not an engineer?" echoed Teddy and old John, in surprise.

  "No, he's a mathematical instrument maker."

  "Well now," said John Potter, gazing meditatively into the fireplacewhere Nora had evoked a tiny flame, "that is strange. This EddystunRock seems to have what I may call a pecooliar destiny. The builder ofthe first light'ouse was a country gentleman; of the second, asilk-mercer; and now, as you say, the third is to be put up by a makero' mathymatical instruments. I only hope," continued John, shaking hishead gravely at the fireplace, "that he won't make a mess of it like theothers did."

  "Come now, father," returned his son, "don't say that the others made amess of it. We must remember that Winstanley began his building in whatwe may call total darkness. No other man before him had attempted sucha work, so that he had no predecessor whose good points he mightimitate, or whose failures he might avoid. Many a trained engineermight have made a worse mess of it, and, to my mind, it says much forpoor Winstanley's capacity, all things considered, that his lighthousestood so long as the six or seven years of its building. Then as toRudyerd's one, it was in reality a great success. It stood firm fornigh fifty years, and, but for the fire, might have stood for any numberof years to come. It cannot be justly said that he made a mess of it.As well might you say that the builders of a first-rate ship made a messof it because someone set her alight after she had sailed the ocean forhalf a century."

  "True, Tommy, true," said old John, nodding acquiescence emphatically.On seeing this, old Martha, knowing nothing about the matter because ofher deafness, nodded emphatically also, and said, "that's so, Tommy, Ialways 'ad a settled conviction that you was right, except," she added,as if to guard herself, "except w'en you was after mischief."

  "Well, but Tommy," continued old John, "you was agoin' to tell ussomethin' about this Mister Smeaton. What sort of a man is he?"

  "As far as I can judge, on short acquaintance," replied Potter, "heseems to be a man who has got a mind and a will of his own, and lookslike one who won't be turned out of his straight course by trifles. Hisname is John, which is a good bible name, besides being yours, father,and he comes from Leeds, a highly respectable place, which has producedmen of note before now. His age is thirty-two, which is about the mostvigorous period of a man's life, and he has come to his present businessin spite of all o
pposition, a fact which is favourable to the prospectsof the lighthouse. In short he's a natural genius, and a born engineer.His father, an attorney, wished him to follow his own profession, butit was soon clear that that was out of the question, for the boy's wholesoul was steeped from earliest childhood in mechanics."

  "I once knew a boy," said John Potter, with a smile, "whose whole soulwas steeped in the same thing!"

  "And in mischief," added old Martha, suddenly, much to every one'ssurprise. The old woman's deafness was indeed of a strangelyintermittent type!

  "Well," continued Potter, with a laugh and a nod to his mother, "nodoubt Smeaton had a spice of mischief in him among other qualities, forit is said of him that when quite a little fellow he made a force pump,with which he emptied his father's fish-pond of water, to the detriment,not to say consternation, of the fish. The upshot of it all was thatthe lad was apprenticed to a maker of mathematical instruments, and soonproved himself to be an inventive genius of considerable power. Erelong he commenced business on his own account, and has now undertakenthe task of building the _third_ lighthouse on the Eddystone. I was inLondon lately, and saw the beautiful models of the intended structurewhich Smeaton has made with his own hands, and it seems to me that he'sjust the man to do the work."

  At the mention of models, old John Potter's eyes lighted up, for itbrought the memory of former days vividly before him.

  "He means to build it of stone," said the son.

  "Stone, say 'ee? that's right, Tommy, that's right," said old John, witha nod of strong approval, "I've always thought that the weak point inthe old light'ouses was _want of weight_. On such a slope of afoundation, you know, it requires great weight to prevent the seaswashin' a lighthouse clean away."

  "I've thought the same thing, father, but what you and I only thought ofSmeaton has stated, and intends to act upon. He means to build a towerso solid that it will defy the utmost fury of winds and waves. He isgoing to cut the sloping foundation into a series of steps or shelves,which will prevent the possibility of slipping. The shape of thebuilding is to be something like the trunk of an oak tree, with a widerbase than the lighthouse of Rudyerd. The first twenty feet or so of itis to be built solid; each stone to be made in the shape of a dovetail,and all the stones circling round a central key to which they willcling, as well as to each other, besides being held by bolts and cement,so that the lower part of the building will be as firm as the rock onwhich it stands. But I daresay, father," continued his son, with aglance at Teddy Maroon, "our friend here, being engaged on the work, hastold you all about this already."

  "Not I," said Maroon, quickly, "I've bin too busy to come here untilto-day, and though I've got me own notions o' what Mr Smeaton intends,by obsarvin' what's goin' on, I han't guessed the quarter o' what you'vetowld me, sur. Howsever, I can spake to what's bin already done. Youmust know," said Teddy, with a great affectation of being particular,"Mr Smeaton has wisely secured his workmen by howldin' out pleasantprospects to 'em. In the first place, we've got good regular wages, an'additional pay whin we're on the Rock. In the second place, extra workon shore is paid for over an' above the fixed wages. In the thirdplace, each man has got his appinted dooty, an's kep close at it. Inthe fourth place, the rules is uncommon stringent, and instant dismissalfollers the breakin' of 'em. In the fifth place--"

  "Never mind the fifth place, Teddy," interrupted old John, "like yerfather, ye was ever too fond o' waggin' yer tongue. Just tell usstraight off, if ye can, what's been already done at the Rock."

  "Well, well," said Maroon, with a deprecatory smile, "owld father an'me's always bin misonderstud more or less; but no matter. Av coorsewe've had the usual difficulties to fight agin, for the owld EddystoneRock ain't agoin' to change its natur to please nobody. As me fatherdescribed it in _his_ day, so I finds it in mine. On most of our firstvisits we got wet skins; but little or no work done, for though it mightbe ever so calm here at Plymouth, it always seemed to be blowin' aprivate gale out at the Rock--leastwise, av it warn't blowin', there wasswell enough most days to make the landin' troublesome. So we got wanhour's work at wan time, an' two hours, or may be three, at another, offan' on. As the saison advanced we got on better, sometimes got five andsix hours on the Rock right on ind, and whin the tide sarved we wint atit by torch-light. Wan week we got no less than sixty-four an' a halfhours on it, an' we was all in great sperrits intirely over that, foryou see, mister Potter, we're all picked men an' takes a pride in thework--to say nothin' of havin' a good master. Av coorse we've had theusual botherations wid the sharp rocks cuttin' the cable of ourattendin'-sloop, an' gales suddinly gettin' up whin we was at the Rockwantin' to land, as well as suddinly goin' down whin we wasn't at theRock, so that we missed our chances. But such sorrows was what weexpicted, more or less. The wust disappointment we've had has bin wi'the noo store-ship, the _Neptune Buss_. I wish it was the Neptune_bu'st_, I do, for it's wus than a tub, an' gives us more trouble thanit's all worth. Now the saison's drawin' to a close, it's clear thatwe'll do no more this year than cut the foundations."

  "An' that's not a bad season's work, lad," said old John. "Ain't itnot, Tommy?"

  "Not bad, indeed, father, for there are always unusual and vexatiousdelays at the beginning of a great work; besides, some of the greatestdifficulties in connexion with such buildings are encountered in thepreparation of the foundations. I suppose Mr Smeaton means to dressthe stones on shore, ready for laying?" continued Potter the younger,turning to Maroon, who had risen and was buttoning up his monkey-jacket.

  "Why, yes sur, haven't you bin down at the yard?"

  "Not yet. I've only just arrived in town; and must be off againto-morrow. You can't think how disappointed I am at being prevented bybusiness from taking part in the building of the new lighthouse--"

  "What's that you say, Tommy?" interrupted old Martha, putting her handto her ear and wrinkling her brow interrogatively.

  "That I'm grieved, mother, at not being able to help in building the newlighthouse," shouted her son, in a voice that might have split anordinary ear.

  Old Martha's visage relaxed into a faint smile as she turned towards thefire and looked earnestly at it, as if for explanation or consolation.

  "Ay ay," she muttered, "it would have bin strange if you hadn't wishedthat; you was always up to mischief, Tommy; always; or else wishin' tobe up to it, although you might know as well as I know myself, that ifyou did get leave to go hout to the Rock (which you're for ever wantin'to do), it would be wet feet an dirty pinafores mornin', noon, an'night, which it's little you care for that, you bad boy, though itcauses me no end of washin' an' dryin',--ay ay!"

  The old woman looked up in the smiling countenance of her stalwart son,and becoming apparently a little confused by reminiscences of the pastand evidences of the present, retired within herself and relapsed intosilence.

  "Well, sur," continued Teddy, "just give a look down if you can; it'sworth your while. Mr Smeaton means to have every stone cut in the yardhere on shore, and to lay down each `course' in the yard too, to be surethat it all fits, for we'll have no time out at the Rock to correctmistakes or make alterations. It'll be `sharp's the word, boys, andlook alive O!' all through; ship the stones; off to the Rock; land 'emin hot haste; clap on the cement; down wi' the blocks; work likeblazes--or Irishmen, which is much the same thing; make all fast intothe boats again; sailors shoutin' `Look alive, me hearties! squallbearin' down right abaft of the lee stuns'l gangway!'--or somethin' likethat; up sail, an' hooroo! boys, for the land, weather permittin'; ifnot, out to say an' take things aisy, or av ye can't be aisy, be as aisyas ye can!"

  "A pleasant prospect, truly," said Mr T. Potter, laughing, as he shookthe Irishman's horny hand.

  "Good-bye, John. Good-bye, Nora, me darlin'; Good-bye, owld ooman."

  "Hold your noise, lad," said old Martha, looking gravely into hervisitor's face.

  "That's just what I manes to do, mavoorneen," replied Teddy Maroon, witha pleasant nod, "for I
'll be off to the Rock to-morrow by day-break,weather permittin', an' it's little help any noise from me would give tothe waves that kape gallivantin' wid the reefs out there like madthings, from Sunday to Saturday, all the year round."

  When the door shut on the noisy Irishman, it seemed as though one of theprofound calms so much needed and desired out at the Eddystone Rock hadsettled down in old John Potter's home--a calm which was not broken forsome minutes thereafter except by old Martha muttering softly once ortwice, while she gravely shook her head: "Hold your noise, Teddy, holdyour noise, lad; you're very like your father; hold your noise!"