“We’ll hope so.” Florence shifted her pack. “They make grand settings for rings, things like that. You chip them from the rocks with a chisel or hatchet.”
“Green stones,” Greta whispered to herself. “Green stone and a green light on this very ridge. Of course, there’s no connection; but then, it’s sort of strange.”
CHAPTER XV
A LEAP IN THE DARK
Jeanne’s row from the Ship of Joy to the small dock before the ancient lighthouse was a short one. Her boat tied up, she hurried along the dock, then over the winding path leading up the gentle slope.
Darkness was falling. Even now, from the schooner’s cabin she caught a yellow gleam of light. She cast a hurried glance toward the tall stone tower.
“They live up there somewhere,” she murmured. “But there’s no light.”
She quickened her step. “Soon be dark.”
Hesitating before a door, she took a grip on herself, then seized the doorknob and gave it a quick turn. The door flew open. Silence, the faint smell of smoked fish and half darkness greeted her. She was at the foot of a winding stairway. She sprang forward and up. At the top of that stairway was a second door. It stood ajar. She rapped on it. No answer. A louder rap. Still no answer.
“Just make sure.” She pushed the door open. “Yes,” she told herself, “someone lives here, some old people who love comfort, chairs and soft, home-made cushions and all that. Dear old people they must be. And there, there’s a rag doll! Must be children, too. Swen never spoke of them. Perhaps—”
She was beginning to think she had come to the wrong lighthouse when a sound from the stairs caused her to start violently.