"There!" said Mr. Tolman; "all this tower of stone, all the arrangements of the place, all the serving of the keeper and his assistant, all the doing by day and the watching by night, is just to keep that little lamp a-going. Put out the lamp at night, and you might just as well send the keepers home and tear down the lighthouse."
"It is not so big a lamp as I supposed."
"No; that is a small lamp for so big a light as folks outside see. It is this lens that does the work of magnifying."
"Can I step outside, sir? I wanted to when we were down here that night, but we did not have so good a chance for looking about."
"Oh yes."
Outside of the lantern was a "deck," about six feet broad, and compassing the lantern. It was a shelf of stone covered with iron.
"Good view here," said the keeper.
"Yes; nothing to hide the prospect," replied Dave. "There is Shipton up beyond the harbour, and there is the sea in the other direction."
Only sea, sea, sea, to north, south, east--one wide, restless play of blue water.
"The wind must blow up here sometimes, Mr. Tolman."