“Ah! poor things,” said Forsyth, in answer to Ruby’s look of wonder, “they often visit us in foggy weather.  I suppose they get out to sea in the fog and can’t find their way back to land, and then some of them chance to cross our light and take refuge on it.”

“Now I’ll go out and get to-morrow’s dinner,” said Dumsby.  He went out accordingly, and, walking round the balcony that encircled the base of the lantern, was seen to put his hand up and quietly take down and wring the necks of such birds as he deemed suitable for his purpose.  It seemed a cruel act to Ruby, but when he came to think of it he felt that, as they were to be stewed at any rate, the more quickly they were killed the better!

He observed that the birds kept fluttering about, alighting for a few moments and flying off again, all the time that Dumsby was at work, yet Dumsby never failed to seize his prey.

Presently the man came in with a small basket full of game.

“Now, Ruby,” said he, “I’ll bet a sixpence that you don’t catch a bird within five minutes.”

“I don’t bet such large sums usually, but I’ll try,” said Ruby, going out.

He tried and failed.  Just as the five minutes were expiring, however, the owl happened to alight before his nose, so he “nabbed” it, and carried it in triumphantly.

“That ain’t a bird,” said Dumsby.

“It’s not a fish,” retorted Ruby; “but how is it that you caught them so easily, and I found it so difficult?”

“Because, lad, you must do it at the right time.  You watch w’en the focus of a revolvin’ light is comin’ full in a bird’s face.  The moment it does so ’e’s dazzled, and you grab ’im.  If you grab too soon or too late, ’e’s away.  That’s ’ow it is, and they’re capital heatin’, as you’ll find.”

Thus much for Ruby’s astonishment.  Now for his being stunned.

Late that night the fog cleared away, and the bells were stopped.  After a long chat with his friends, Ruby mounted to the library and went to bed.  Later still the fog returned, and the bells were again set agoing.  Both of them being within a few feet of Ruby’s head, they awakened him with a bang that caused him to feel as if the room in which he lay were a bell and his own head the tongue thereof.

At first the sound was solemnizing, then it was saddening.  After a time it became exasperating, and then maddening.  He tried to sleep, but he only tossed.  He tried to meditate, but he only wandered—­not “in dreams”, however.  He tried to laugh, but the laugh degenerated into a growl.  Then he sighed, and the sigh ended in a groan.  Finally, he got up and walked up and down the floor till his legs were cold, when he turned into bed again, very tired, and fell asleep, but not to rest—­to dream.

He dreamt that he was at the forge again, and that he and Dove were trying to smash their anvils with the sledge-hammers—­bang and bang about But the anvil would not break.  At last he grew desperate, hit the horn off, and then, with another terrific blow, smashed the whole affair to atoms!