Descending the first flight, the keeper came to the watch room, where was a table, a chair, a stove, and a small lamp for the comfort and convenience of those who were on duty during the night to make certain the lamp in the lantern (meaning the floor above), burned steadily; and here also was a square, upright piece of mechanism known as the driving clock, which operated the flashing light.
Down another flight, and the keeper was in a third circular room, where were two beds. Another flight brought him to his own apartment, and below that the kitchen, over which Uncle Zenas presided as cook and second assistant light keeper, where everything was wondrously neat and clean, and where every inch of space was economized for the better keeping of the food, cooking utensils, and such articles as are ordinarily found in similar apartments on shore.
"Are the fish-cakes spiled?" Captain Eph asked as he opened the door leading outside the tower to a ladder of iron, which was fastened directly to the masonry of the building.
"Gone to a cinder," the cook replied in a tone of sorrow, "an' I allow they was the best I ever put together. What about the boat?"
"That's what I can't tell, Uncle Zenas. This 'ere fog has shut in worse than ever, an' the chances are we'll never see her agin."
"How did she happen to be out there? Some fisherman, eh?"
"No; me an' Sammy are both agreed that it's a motor boat, an' she looked to me like such a craft as would be carried by some big sailing vessel."
"But what is she doin' out there?"
"Now, look here, Uncle Zenas, I don't know anything more about her than you do. How can you expect I'm goin' to answer such a fool question as that? All I can say is that, 'cordin' to the last sight I had of her, it looked as if she was headin' for this 'ere ledge, an' all the rest is a puzzle."
"Where are you goin' now?" the cook asked as he set about preparing more fish-cakes.