"I will take no more!" was the fierce cry.
"You ought to."
"I refuse, I tell you! Don't torture me further."
"Any chance of a row in the morning? The purser and Mr. Emmett mount guard when the store-room is opened."
"I acted my role well. I built up the vacancies with empty tins."
"My sakes!" cried Pyne pityingly, "you deserve to win through."
"I think my heart will break," muttered Brand. "But look! The lamp! It needs adjusting."
Indeed, a fresh gale seemed to be springing up. The wind-vane having gone, the index was useless. It was not until a burst of spray drenched the lantern that Brand knew of a change taking place. The wind was backing round towards the north.
The barometer fell slightly. It portended either more wind and dry weather, or less wind accompanied by rain. Who could tell what would happen? Fair or foul, hurricane or calm, all things seemed to be the ungovernable blundering of blind chance.
When the rock was left in peace after the fall of the tide, Pyne promised to keep the light in order if Brand would endeavor to sleep until day-break. Rest was essential to him. He would assuredly break down under the strain if the tension were too long maintained, and a time was coming when he would need all his strength, mental and physical.