Pat the Lighthouse Boy

by Evelyn Everett-Green

There was no resisting him. Jim could hobble about a little with his stick, and the three went out together into the bright sunshine, and stood watching whilst the white-winged boat came skimming over the waves towards them. Pat was wildly waving his cap, and shouting out his greetings long before they could be heard; but as soon as the boat got within hail, the little yellow-haired boy, who was in a suit of sailor white, and a veritable picture of childish beauty, sprang up in his seat and began waving his straw hat, and shouting at the very pitch of his voice, and hardly had the boat touched the rocks before the two boys were in each other's arms, hugging and kissing as though they never meant to let each other go. The mothers stood looking on and smiling, Eileen half ashamed at the "forwardness" of her child before the gentry, but Lady St. John, all smiles and sweetness, as she turned to her, and said—

"My little Rupert has been crying out for Pat every day, and sometimes will not be pacified without him. I am so glad for them to meet again. I think you made him happier on Lone Rock than we have done at home."

"Oh, my lady, don't say that!" said the woman, half pleased, half shamed, as she led the way within, Rupert leaving Pat for a moment to give her a warm hug, and then dashing at Jim to renew acquaintance with him.

"We must manage for them to be friends still," said the sweet-voiced lady as she entered Eileen's bright living-room, whilst the men and the children remained outside. "It is not good for children to be brought up without companionship, and Pat is such a dear, gentle, little fellow, Rupert will learn nothing but good from him."

"I hope he will learn no harm, my lady; but Pat is only a sailor's son, and I hope he will not take liberties with the little gentleman. It was being so much together those days that did it, but——"

"Now, you must not speak as though I were not very glad my boy should make a friend of your son," said Lady St. John, in her sweet way. "I know that in after life their paths will lie widely asunder, but that is no reason why as children they should not play together, and love each other. And it will do my child good to learn, whilst he is still young, that the lives of others are not cast in quite such pleasant places. It will give him sympathy and comprehension as to the troubles of others, which it is right that all should learn. And now, Eileen—if you will let me call you by your pretty name——"

"Please do, my lady. Most folks call me so. I know myself best by it."

"Yes, and I have heard so much about you by that name that it comes first to my lips. So Eileen, then, I want you to sit down and talk with me a little about the future. Now that Pat's health is re-established, are you still anxious to remain upon the lighthouse? Is Lone Rock the home you would choose for yourself if you had the choice?"

"Well, no, my lady, I can't say it is; though we have been very happy through the best part of a year. It's a lonely life, and a rough one, and there's no way of getting the boy taught, save what his father and I can teach him ourselves, and we should like him to be better educated than we were. But I'm afraid if we took him back where he came from, he would droop and pine again; and the pay here is good and regular, and the work not so very hard, save in rough weather. Still——"

"Still, if anything should turn up that would give you a pleasant country home, and advantages for Pat, without all the drawbacks of the lonely lighthouse life, you would be willing to think about it?"