"The mattresses won't take up any more room than those piles of blankets, an' I'll bring them anyhow," Mr. Peters cried, hurrying up the stairs as if afraid the keeper might try to stop him, and Sidney could understand very well why the first assistant was eager to do even more that might not be absolutely necessary, hoping thus to atone for his deceit.
It was no slight task to move Uncle Zenas from the place where he was lying to the mattress which Mr. Peters brought, and not accomplished without causing the sufferer very much additional pain; but there could be no question as to the future benefit, and the keeper said in a tone of satisfaction:
"That's first rate, Sammy, an' now I reckon you may bring down another bed for me. When that's done we'll be in fairly good condition, an' your hospital will look a deal more ship-shape."
By the time Captain Eph had been attended to, it was necessary Sidney should set about getting supper, for even the invalids needed something in the way of food, and, with Mr. Peters to assist him, the lad succeeded far beyond his own anticipations.
"Before Uncle Zenas gets around agin you'll be a first-class cook," Captain Eph said when the supper was on the table, and Sidney was heating some of the canned soup with the hope that the second assistant would swallow it. "Beats all how handy you are. Haven't been on Carys' Ledge hardly long enough to get acquainted, an' know how to look after the light! It won't be a great while before you can run the whole business."
"It would be funny if I couldn't do a little bit, when all of you have shown me how," Sidney replied with a laugh, but secretly he was well pleased at being thus praised.
That evening, after the lamp in the lantern had been lighted, and the invalids were cared for as well as possible under the circumstances, Sidney spoke of the possibility that the tower might have been burned, and asked Captain Eph if light-houses had ever been entirely destroyed by fire.
"If you'll go into my room an' get a book called Ancient an' Modern Light-Houses, which was written by Major Heap of the Army, I'll show you a story about the burnin' of the second Eddystone light—you remember that the first was carried away by the sea," the keeper replied, and believing it might cause the invalids to forget in some slight degree their sad condition, Sidney went hurriedly for the book in question, reading aloud, after Captain Eph had found the story, that which is set down here:
"The fire which destroyed this light-house [the second Eddystone], which had withstood the fiercest storms for nearly half a century, took place in December, 1755. The keeper going to snuff the candles at 2 A.M., found the lantern full of smoke, and when he opened the door was driven back by a burst of flame.
"The candles were twenty-four in number, and weighed two and one-half pounds each; their long continued use must have thoroughly dried the wood-*work of the lantern, which, besides, was probably covered with soot, so that a spark would easily ignite it.