They sat in silence, for the noise was now so great that it was difficult to hear voices, unless when they were raised to a high pitch.

Thus passed that terrible night; and the looks of the men, the solemn glances, the closed eyes, the silently moving lips, showed that their thoughts were busy reviewing bygone days and deeds; perchance in making good resolutions for the future—­“if spared!”

Morning brought a change.  The rush of the sea was indeed still tremendous, but the force of the gale was broken and the danger was past.

CHAPTER XXIV

A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS

Time rolled on, and the lighthouse at length began to grow.

It did not rise slowly, as does an ordinary building.  The courses of masonry having been formed and fitted on shore during the winter, had only to be removed from the work-yard at Arbroath to the rock, where they were laid, mortared, wedged, and trenailed, as fast as they could be landed.

Thus, foot by foot it grew, and soon began to tower above its foundation.

From the foundation upwards for thirty feet it was built solid.  From this point rose the spiral staircase leading to the rooms above.  We cannot afford space to trace its erection step by step, neither is it desirable that we should do so.  But it is proper to mention, that there were, as might be supposed, leading points in the process—­eras, as it were, in the building operations.

The first of these, of course, was the laying of the foundation stone, which was done ceremoniously, with all the honours.  The next point was the occasion when the tower showed itself for the first time above water at full tide.  This was a great event.  It was proof positive that the sea had been conquered; for many a time before that event happened had the sea done its best to level the whole erection with the rock.

Three cheers announced and celebrated the fact, and a “glass” all round stamped it on the memories of the men.

Another noteworthy point was the connexion—­the marriage, if the simile may be allowed—­of the tower and the beacon.  This occurred when the former rose to a few feet above high-water mark, and was effected by means of a rope-bridge, which was dignified by the sailors with the name of “Jacob’s ladder”.

Heretofore the beacon and lighthouse had stood in close relation to each other.  They were thenceforward united by a stronger tie; and it is worthy of record that their attachment lasted until the destruction of the beacon after the work was done.  Jacob’s ladder was fastened a little below the doorway of the beacon.  Its other end rested on, and rose with, the wall of the tower.  At first it sloped downward from beacon to tower; gradually it became horizontal; then it sloped upward.  When this happened it was removed, and replaced by a regular wooden bridge, which extended from the doorway of the one structure to that of the other.