“That’s well,” said Ruby, shouldering the unwieldy bellows; “they have worn my shoulders threadbare, and tried my patience almost beyond endurance.”

“Well, it’s all over now, lad,” rejoined the smith.  “In future you shall have to blow up in the beacon yonder; so come along.”

“Come, Ruby, that ought to comfort the cockles o’ yer heart,” said O’Connor, who passed up the ladder as he spoke; “the smith won’t need to blow you up any more, av you’re to blow yourself up in the beacon in futur’.  Arrah! there’s the bell again.  Sorrow wan o’ me iver gits to slape, but I’m turned up immadiately to go an’ poke away at that rock—­faix, it’s well named the Bell Rock, for it makes me like to bellow me lungs out wid vexation.”

“That pun is below contempt,” said Joe Dumsby, who came up at the moment.

“That’s yer sort, laddies; ye’re guid at ringing the changes on that head onyway,” cried Watt.

“I say, we’re gittin’ a belly-full of it,” observed Forsyth, with a rueful look “I hope nobody’s goin’ to give us another!”

“It’ll create a rebellion,” said Bremner, “if ye go on like that”

“It’ll bring my bellows down on the head o’ the next man that speaks!” cried Ruby, with indignation.

“Don’t you hear the bell, there?” cried the foreman down the hatchway.

There was a burst of laughter at this unconscious continuation of the joke, and the men sprang up the ladder,—­down the side, and into the boats, which were soon racing towards the rock.

The day, though not sunny, was calm and agreeable, nevertheless the landing at the rock was not easily accomplished, owing to the swell caused by a recent gale.  After one or two narrow escapes of a ducking, however, the crews landed, and the bellows, instead of being conveyed to their usual place at the forge, were laid at the foot of the beacon.

The carriage of these bellows to and fro almost daily had been a subject of great annoyance to the men, owing to their being so much in the way, and so unmanageably bulky, yet so essential to the progress of the works, that they did not dare to leave them on the rock, lest they should be washed away, and they had to handle them tenderly, lest they should get damaged.

“Now, boys, lend a hand with the forge,” cried the smith, hurrying towards his anvil.

Those who were not busy eating dulse responded to the call, and in a short time the ponderous materiel of the smithy was conveyed to the beacon, where, in process of time, it was hoisted by means of tackle to its place on the platform to which reference has already been made.

When it was safely set up and the bellows placed in position, Ruby went to the edge of the platform, and, looking down on his comrades below, took off his cap and shouted in the tone of a Stentor, “Now, lads, three cheers for the Dovecot!”

This was received with a roar of laughter and three tremendous cheers.