The captain nodded.

“Weel, sir, that was my share o’ the plunder, thretty goolden sovereigns.  We tossed which o’ us was to hae them, an’ the siller fell to me.  But I’ve niver spent a boddle o’t.  Mony a time have I been tempit, an’ mony a time wad I hae gi’en in to the temptation, but for a certain lass ca’d Janet, that’s been an angel, it’s my belief, sent doon frae heeven to keep me frae gawin to the deevil a’thegither.  But be that as it may, I’ve brought the siller to them that owns it by right, an’ so my conscience is clear o’t at lang last.”

The sigh of relief with which Davy Spink pushed the bag of gold towards his companion, showed that the poor man’s mind was in truth released from a heavy load that had crushed it for years.

The captain, who had lit his pipe, stared at the fisherman through the smoke for some time in silence; then he began to untie the purse, and said slowly, “Spink, I said you were an honest man, an’ I see no cause to alter my opinion.”

He counted out the thirty gold pieces, put them back into the bag, and the bag into his pocket.  Then he continued, “Spink, if this gold was mine I would—­but no matter, it’s not mine, it belongs to Widow Brand, to whom I shall deliver it up.  Meantime, I’ll bid you good night.  All these things require reflection.  Call back here to-morrow, my fine fellow, and I’ll have something to say to you.  Another cup of tea?”

“Weel, I’ll no objec’.”

Davy Spink rose, swallowed the beverage, and left the cottage.  The captain returned, and stood for some time irresolute with his hand on the handle of the door of his sister’s room.  As he listened, he heard a sob, and the tones of Minnie’s voice as if in prayer.  Changing his mind, he walked softly across the kitchen into his own room, where, having trimmed the candle, refilled and lit his pipe, he sat down at the table, and, resting his arms thereon, began to meditate.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE LIGHTHOUSE COMPLETED—­RUBY’S ESCAPE FROM TROUBLE BY A DESPERATE VENTURE

There came a time at last when the great work of building the Bell Rock Lighthouse drew to a close.  Four years after its commencement it was completed, and on the night of the 1st of February, 1811, its bright beams were shed for the first time far and wide over the sea.

It must not be supposed, however, that this lighthouse required four years to build it.  On the contrary, the seasons in which work could be done were very short.  During the whole of the first season of 1807, the aggregate time of low-water work, caught by snatches of an hour or two at a tide, did not amount to fourteen days of ten hours! while in 1808 it fell short of four weeks.

A great event is worthy of very special notice.  We should fail in our duty to our readers if we were to make only passing reference to this important event in the history of our country.