"Ha"n"t "ee heerd?" Mendarva began a long tale, the sum of which was that the light-house had begun of late to show signs of age, to rock at times in an ominous manner. The Trinity House surveyor had been down and reported, and Mendarva had the contract for some immediate repairs. "But "tis patching an old kettle, my son. The foundations be clamped down to the rock, and the clamps have worked loose.
The whole thing"ll have to come down in the end; you mark my words."
"But, these repairs?" Taffy interrupted: "You"ll be wanting hands."
"Why, o" course."
"And a foreman--a clerk of the works--"
While Mendarva was telling his tale, over a hill two miles to the westward a small donkey-cart crawled for a minute against the sky-line and disappeared beyond the ridge which hid the towans.
An old man trudged at the donkey"s head; and a young woman sat in the cart with a bundle in her arms.
The old man trudged along so deep in thought that when the donkey without rhyme or reason came to a halt, half-way down the hill, he too halted, and stood pulling a wisp of grey side-whiskers.
"Look here," he said. "You ent goin" to tell? That"s your las"
word, is it?"
The young woman looked down on the bundle and nodded her head.
"There, that"ll do. If you weant, you weant; I"ve tek"n "ee back, an" us must fit and make the best o"t. The cheeld"ll never be good for much--born lame like that. But "twas to be, I s"pose."
Lizzie sat dumb, but hugged the bundle closer.
""Tis like a judgment. If your mother"d been spared, "twudn" have happened. But "twas to be, I s"pose. The Lord"s ways be past findin" out."
He woke up and struck the donkey across the rump.
"Gwan you! Gee up! What d"ee mean by stoppin" like that?"
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE SERVICE OF THE LAMP.
The Chief Engineer of the Trinity House was a man of few words.
He and Taffy had spent the afternoon clambering about the rocks below the light-house, peering into its foundations. Here and there, where weed coated the rocks and made foothold slippery, he took the hand which Taffy held out. Now and then he paused for a pinch of snuff.
The round of inspection finished, he took an extraordinarily long pinch.
"What"s _your_ opinion?" he asked, c.o.c.king his head on one side and examining the young man much as he had examined the light-house.
"You have one, I suppose?"
"Yes, sir; but of course it doesn"t count for much."
"I asked for it."
"Well, then, I think, sir, we have wasted a year"s work; and if we go on tinkering we shall waste more."
"Pull it down and rebuild, you say?"
"Yes, sir; but not on the same rock."
"Why?"
"This rock was ill-chosen. You see, sir, just here a ridge of elvan crops up through the slate; the rock, out yonder, is good elvan, and that is why the sea has made an island of it, wearing away the softer stuff insh.o.r.e. The mischief here lies in the rock, not in the light-house."
"The sea has weakened our base?"
"Partly: but the light-house has done more. In a strong gale the foundations begin to work, and in the chafing the rock gets the worst of it."
"What about concrete?"
"You might fill up the sockets with concrete; but I doubt, sir, if the case would hold for any time. The rock is a mere sh.e.l.l in places, especially on the north-western side."
"H"m. You were at Oxford for a time, were you not?"
"Yes, sir," Taffy answered, wondering.
"I"ve heard about you. Where do you live?"
Taffy pointed to the last of a line of three whitewashed cottages behind the light-house.
"Alone?"
"No, sir; with my mother and my grandmother. She is an invalid."
"I wonder if your mother would be kind enough to offer me a cup of tea?"
In the small kitchen, on the walls of which, and even on the dresser, Taffy"s books fought for room with Humility"s plates and tin-ware, the Chief Engineer proved to be a most courteous old gentleman.
Towards Humility he bore himself with an antique politeness which flattered her considerably. And when he praised her tea she almost forgave him for his detestable habit of snuff-taking.
He had heard something (it appeared) from the President of Taffy"s college, and also from--(he named Taffy"s old friend in the velvet college-cap). In later days Taffy maintained not only that every man must try to stand alone, but that he ought to try the harder because of its impossibility; for in fact it was impossible to escape from men"s helpfulness. And though his work was done in lonely places where in the end fame came out to seek him, he remained the same boy who, waking in the dark, had heard the bugles speaking comfort.
As a matter of fact his college had generously offered him a chance which would have cost him nothing or next to nothing, of continuing to read for his degree. But he had chosen his line, and against Humility"s entreaties he stuck to it. The Chief Engineer took a ceremonious leave. He had to drive back to his hotel, and Taffy escorted him to his carriage.
"I shall run over again to-morrow," he said at parting; "and we"ll have a look at that island rock." He was driven off, secretly a little puzzled.
Well, it puzzled Taffy at times why he should be working here with Mendarva"s men for twenty shillings a week (it had been eighteen, to begin with) when he might be reading for his degree and a fellowship.
Yet in his heart he knew the reason. _That_ would be building, after all, on the foundations which Honoria had laid.
Pride had helped chance to bring him here, to the very spot where Lizzie Pezzack lived. He met her daily, and several times a day.
She, and his mother and grandmother, were all the women-folk in the hamlet--if three cottages deserve that name. In the first cottage Lizzie lived with her father, who was chief light-houseman, and her crippled child; two under-keepers, unmarried men, managed together in the second; and this accident allowed Taffy to rent the third from the Brethren of the Trinity House and live close to his daily work.
Unless brought by business, no one visited that windy peninsula; no one pa.s.sed within sight of it; no tree grew upon it or could be seen from it. At daybreak Taffy"s workmen came trudging along the track where the short turf and gentians grew between the wheel-ruts; and in the evening went trudging back, the level sun flashing on their empty dinner-cans. The eight souls left behind had one common gospel-- Cleanliness. Very little dust found its way thither; but the salt, spray-laden air kept them constantly polishing window-panes and bra.s.s-work. To wash, to scour, to polish, grew into the one absorbing business of life. They had no gossip; even in their own dwellings they spoke but little; their speech shrank and dwindled away in the continuous roar of the sea. But from morning to night, mechanically, they washed and scoured and polished. Paper was not whiter than the deal table and dresser which Humility scrubbed daily with soap and water, and once a week with lemon-juice as well.
Never was cleaner linen to sight and smell than that which she pegged out by the furze-brake on the ridge. All the life of the small colony, though lonely, grew wholesome as it was simple of purpose in cottages thus sweetened and kept sweet by limewash and the salt wind.
And through it moved the forlorn figure of Lizzie Pezzack"s child.
Somehow Lizzie had taught the boy to walk, with the help of a crutch, as early as most children; but the wind made cruel sport with his first efforts in the open, knocking the crutch from under him at every third step, and laying him flat. The child had pluck, however; and when autumn came round again, could face a fairly stiff breeze.