“Welcome, ladies!” greeted Mr. Haley. “I’m real glad to see you. Visitors are always welcome. Are you good climbers?”
“Why?” asked Eline.
“Because we have no elevator, and it’s quite a step to the top of the tower.”
“Oh, we can do it,” Cora declared.
They were shown through the light, and the keeper explained how, by means of clock-work, propelled by heavy weights, the great lens was revolved, making the flashing light. It turned every five seconds, sending out a signal that all the mariners knew, each lighthouse being in a different class, and the signals they gave, either fixed or stationary, being calculated to distinguish different parts of the coast where danger lies.
On their return to the neat parlor, on the appearance of which the girls complimented Rosalie, who kept house for her father–his wife being dead–Cora saw a photograph lying on the centre table. At the sight of it she exclaimed:
“Who? What do you mean?” cried Mr. Haley. “That is my sister!”
“And it is the woman who was in our barn!” Cora said. “I have thought all along it was. Now I am sure of it. Mr. Haley, I am sure I do not want to pry into your family affairs, but your daughter said something about her aunt being missing, and how worried you were. I am sure we have met her since–since her trouble. Perhaps we can help you.”
“Oh, if you only could!” exclaimed the light keeper. “My poor sister! Where can she be?”