"What's your opinion?" he asked, cocking his head on one side and examining the young man much as he had examined the light-house. "You have one, I suppose."
"Yes, sir; but of course it doesn't count for much."
"I asked for it."
"Well, then, I think, sir, we have wasted a year's work; and if we go on tinkering, we shall waste more."
"Pull it down and rebuild, you say?"
"Yes, sir; but not on the same rock."
"Why?"
"This rock was ill-chosen. You see, sir, just here a ridge of elvan crops up through the slate; the rock, out yonder, is good elvan, and that is why the sea has made an island of it, wearing away the softer stuff inshore. The mischief here lies in the rock, not in the light-house."
"The sea has weakened our base?"
"Partly; but the light-house has done more. In a strong gale the foundations begin to work, and in the chafing the bed of rock gets the worst of it."