Besides these there were two large boats, used for landing stones and building materials on the rock.

These vessels lay floating almost motionless on the calm sea, and at first there was scarcely any noise aboard of them to indicate that they were tenanted by human beings, but when the sound of the Smeaton’s cable was heard there was a bustle aboard of each, and soon faces were seen looking inquisitively over the sides of the ships.

The Smeaton’s boat was lowered after the anchor was let go, and the new hands were transferred to the Pharos, which was destined to be their home for some time to come.

Just as they reached her the bell rang for breakfast, and when Ruby stepped upon the deck he found himself involved in all the bustle that ensues when men break off from work and make preparation for the morning meal.

There were upwards of thirty artificers on board the lightship at this time.  Some of these, as they hurried to and fro, gave the new arrivals a hearty greeting, and asked, “What news from the shore?” Others were apparently too much taken up with their own affairs to take notice of them.

While Ruby was observing the busy scene with absorbing interest, and utterly forgetful of the fact that he was in any way connected with it, an elderly gentleman, whose kind countenance and hearty manner gave indication of a genial spirit within, came up and accosted him: 

“You are our assistant blacksmith, I believe?”

“Yes, sir, I am,” replied Ruby, doffing his cap, as if he felt instinctively that he was in the presence of someone of note.

“You have had considerable practice, I suppose, in your trade?”

“A good deal, sir, but not much latterly, for I have been at sea for some time.”

“At sea?  Well, that won’t be against you here,” returned the gentleman, with a meaning smile.  “It would be well if some of my men were a little more accustomed to the sea, for they suffer much from sea-sickness.  You can go below, my man, and get breakfast.  You’ll find your future messmate busy at his, I doubt not.  Here, steward,” (turning to one of the men who chanced to pass at the moment,) “take Ruby Brand—­that is your name, I think?”

“It is, sir.”

“Take Brand below, and introduce him to James Dove as his assistant.”

The steward escorted Ruby down the ladder that conducted to those dark and littered depths of the ship’s hull that were assigned to the artificers as their place of abode.  But amidst a good deal of unavoidable confusion, Ruby’s practised eye discerned order and arrangement everywhere.

“This is your messmate, Jamie Dove,” said the steward, pointing to a massive dark man, whose outward appearance was in keeping with his position as the Vulcan of such an undertaking as he was then engaged in.  “You’ll find him not a bad feller if you only don’t cross him.”  He added, with a wink, “His only fault is that he’s given to spoilin’ good victuals, being raither floored by sea-sickness if it comes on to blow ever so little.”