"Luff et is!" roared Ben, suddenly. "Steady now."
Out of the blurred vista a ghostly column rose in front. Smooth and sheer were its granite walls, with dark little casements showing black in the weird light. The boat rushed past the Trinity mooring-buoy. She held on until they heard the sea breaking.
"Lower away!" cried Ben, and the yard fell with a sharp rattle that showed how thoroughly Enid had laid to heart Pollard's tuition.
Constance brought the Daisy round in a wide curve, and Ben got out the oars to keep her from being dashed against the reef.
Enid's eyes were turned towards the gallery beneath the lantern.
"Lighthouse ahoy!" she screamed in a voice high-pitched with emotion.
There was no answering clang of the door leading from the room on a level with the balcony. Not often had the girls visited the rock, but they knew that this was the first sign they might expect of their arrival being noted if there were no watchers pacing the "promenade."
"Help us, Ben," cried Constance, and their united shouts might be heard a mile away in the prevailing stillness. A window half way up the tower was opened. A man's head and shoulders appeared.
It was Stephen Brand.
"Thank God!" murmured Constance.