Pat the Lighthouse Boy

by Evelyn Everett-Green

A WONDERFUL DAY

The two little boys were up in the gallery. Nat was burnishing the reflectors and overlooking the great She, whose wonderful individuality was taking a strong hold upon the imagination of both the children. Rupert knew almost all Pat's stories about the wonderful creature who slept all the day, but waked up to keep watch all the night, and he was never tired of watching her cleaned and fed; but the process lasted longer some days than others, and they would vary the morning's work by going out upon the sunny gallery, and calling out to the men at work within what vessels were in sight, and where they seemed to be going. And whilst thus occupied, Rupert would generally demand that Pat should tell him some of Jim's many stories, many of which they would try to enact between them, making believe that the gallery was the deck of a ship, and that they were the officers in charge. Pat's vivid imagination, inherited from his mother, made this kind of make-believe easy and entrancing to him, and Rupert delighted in it, and in flourishing about and being the lord and master of everything and everybody. He was growing so brown and sturdy that it was a treat to look at him, and Pat had increased in health and strength visibly since he had had a little playmate to romp with. Before that he had been inclined to spend rather too much time in sitting and thinking. The sea and the rocks and the sky gave him many strange ideas; and there was Jim, too, who wanted so often to know things that took a great deal of puzzling out. Pat had liked all the thinking, being of a cogitative turn, but it was better for him to run about and shout and play more, and to sit and ponder rather less. The parents looked in wonder at him sometimes, remembering how all last winter he had seemed wasting away, and had fallen into a state from which it seemed as though nothing but a miracle could lift him. They could not be thankful enough for the wonderful change. The dreamy wistfulness which had lingered so long in his eyes, was changing now to something more boyish and healthy. He did not look as though he were always walking on the border-land of the unseen world. The romps and merry games with his little companion were fast making a boy of him again, and Nat looked with hearty satisfaction at the change.

A merry rosy pair they were up aloft to-day, and their shouts of glee rang cheerily over the dancing water. Eileen now and again heard them as she sat at her needle below, and she would smile and glance upwards, as though to try and see what the urchins were about. To-day was a glad one at the lighthouse, for Jim had taken a decided turn for the better. Now that the broken ribs were properly set and in place, and no longer pressing upon the organs they had injured, he was relieved of the worst of the pain. He had been able to sleep and eat better, and to-day he felt so strong that he had coaxed Nat and Eileen to let him get up and sit beside the fire in the living room, well wrapped up in blankets, and with plenty of rugs about him. The doctor had said he might do this if he felt well enough, as a change of posture might be a relief. The children had watched the move with great interest; but had been sent upstairs after a while to let Jim rest and be quiet. The mother had told Pat to go and look out whether any boat from shore might not be coming to the rock. It was a fine day, and the week had expired which was to bring the doctor for another visit. He might come any day now; and the children were delighted to go up aloft and play the game of "look-out man," as they called it.

There were a good many fishing boats out in the bay, and Rupert had been certain that every one of them was coming to Lone Rock, till at last he had grown weary of watching, had declared that nobody was coming to-day, and had suggested another game at which they had played some time. When, however, they were tired of this, Pat had gone to the rail to look over, and now he called to Rupert with some excitement.

"Come and look! Come and look!" he called out, "I do believe that boat is coming here! Look how she skims along! What a pretty one she is! How white her sail is! And doesn't she go fast! I don't know that boat, Prince Rupert. I don't think she belongs in the bay. Yet she looks just as if she was coming here. Shall I call father and ask him what he thinks? She doesn't turn or tack. She comes straight, straight on. Oh, I do hope she is coming! Perhaps she has got something for you on board."

"Perhaps it is my papa come for me," said Rupert, not looking as though he knew exactly whether he relished this thought or not, "but I'm not sure that I'll go away with him if it is. I like being here. I like playing lighthouse games. I didn't have anybody to play with me before. I don't much fink I will go with him if he comes. I fink I'll belong to you're father and mother. I like them very much."

Pat, not quite knowing how to reply, and greatly moved in spirit in case this pretty white-sailed boat should be coming to rob them of their darling, hastily called his father, who came out into the bright sunshine, and shaded his eyes with his hand.

"It looks as though she were making for Lone Rock," he said, "and it's no boat from our bay, Pat; it's a better built and better-rigged craft than we often see in these parts. It's a yacht's boat by the look of her, and a tidy little craft she is. Well, well, we shall soon know; but she's heading for Lone Rock as sure as fate; and it's not the coast-guard inspection, neither. That boat belongs to some gentleman, I'll be bound," and the man's eyes turned towards the little fellow beside him with a look that Pat understood in a moment. His eyes filled with tears, and for a moment everything swam in a golden haze. They were coming to take away his little prince, the darling little boy who had become the first object in his life. However should he bear to let him go? It did not do to think about it. If he thought, he would surely cry, and that would be a pity, for perhaps Rupert would cry too, and it would never do for his parents to find him in tears, they would think he had been badly treated, and take him away as quick as thought. No, he must put a brave face on, and try to make the best of it. Perhaps Prince Rupert would decide not to go, and Pat could hardly believe that his word would not be law if he once boldly asserted his determination.