Pat the Lighthouse Boy

by Evelyn Everett-Green

"It's coming! it's coming!" cried Pat, breaking the strained silence with a sudden cry, and he pointed with his little hand towards the dark fleeting mass on the water, which was very near to them now. In the grey, but steadily increasing, daylight they could see the face of the little child—the damp hair floating round it, the expression calm and tranquil, as though the little one was sleeping in his mother's arms. They could see, too, that there was a great life-buoy about the child, so that it's head had been kept well above the water. It was just possible that life might be restored. Sailors have wonderful experiences of such returns to life after long immersion in the water. Pat could not believe the little boy was dead, and with breathless eagerness he watched Jim quietly slip into the water, and strike out in strong vigorous strokes for the floating spar. Eileen put her hands before her eyes for one moment at the plunge, and then stood up calm and strong.

"God help him! God be with him!" she murmured softly under her breath, and Nat said "Amen" in deep steady tones.

"Wife," he said, after a moment's pause, "remember that the lighthouse is now thy charge and mine. That must be our first duty. We two are its keepers now. God grant we have not to choose between it and yon brave fellow; but if it be His will that it be so, we must remember our duty to those who placed us here, and to those who sail on the sea, and look to be guided by yon light."

She understood him in a moment, and nipped his hand.

"Pray God it come not to that," she said. "We are both very strong."

And then they held their breath to watch the bold swimmer, who was already beyond the shelter of the rocks, exposed to the full play of the sweeping billows, rising and falling like a cork on the face of the mighty deep, but with every strong stroke approaching more near to the object he had started to seek.

Nat was paying out the rope with a look of strained anxiety on his face. Suppose it should not prove long enough! Coil after coil was payed out, and still Jim had not quite come up with the floating spar. Would there be enough? Heaven send he reach it soon!

A shout from the child. Pat had clambered a little way above them to get a better view. Now came a wild hurrah.

"He's got him! He's got him! Oh, brave Jim! Strong Jim! Daddy, he's got him. He's seized him fast. Pull him in! Pull him in quick! Oh, his head keeps going under! He can't help himself now! He keeps his arms fast round the little boy. He's doing something; I can't quite see what! Oh, I see now.... He's cut the rope that ties him to the spar! I can see it floating away by itself. But he's got the little boy! He's got him fast! Oh, daddy, be quick! be quick! Don't let Jim drown! His head does go under so often! Make haste and pull him out! Oh, do make haste! The waves are so big and fierce, and wash over them so often. He always keeps the little boy top; but he keeps going under himself so much. Oh, dear, brave Jim! How I do love you. Oh, daddy, that wave! There was something floating just under the water. It hit Jim; I'm sure it did! Oh, I hope it did not hurt him! He keeps fast hold of the little boy. Oh, they are coming nearer! Do make haste! Do make haste! Oh, I hope they will not both be dead! Oh, hold on strong, Jim! Daddy will pull you in soon; but the sea is so strong! Oh, how I wish the sea was not so cruel! I know now why mother said that it would be a blessed thing when there was no more sea!"