IN DARKNESS.

Gwyn Pendarve opened his eyes, feeling sore and in grievous pain. A
sharp point seemed to be running into his side, and he was hurting his
neck, while one shoulder felt as if it had become set, so that, though
it ached terribly, he could not move.

He did not know how it was or why it was, for all was confused and
strange; and he lay trying to puzzle out clearly why Caer Point light
should be revolving so quickly, now flashing up brightly, and now
sinking again till all was nearly dark.

It seemed very strange, for he had often looked out to sea on dark
nights, over to where the great lighthouse stood up on the Jagger Rock
ten miles away, seeing the light increase till it seemed like a comet,
whose long, well-defined tail slowly swept round over the sea till it
was hidden by the back of the lanthorn, and he waited till it flashed
out again; but it had never given him pains in the body before, neither
could he recall that it smelt so nasty, just like burnt mutton-chops.

That was the strangest part of it, for he remembered when the fishermen
sailed over there with them so that they could have some conger fishing
off the rocks, the light keepers took them round, and among other things
showed them the store-room in the lower part of the building, where the
great drums of crystal oil for trimming the lamps were lifted into the
tank. Yes, of course they burned paraffin oil in the great optical
lanthorn; but though it was tremendously hot there, when the light was
in full play, there was scarcely any odour, while now it smelt of burnt
mutton fat.

Gwyn could not make it out. There, in the far distance, was the light,
now flashing out brightly, now dying; out into darkness, smelling
horribly, making him very hot, and giving him all those aching pains
from which he was suffering.

There was another problem, too, that he had to solve; why was it that a
lighthouse lanthorn ten miles away on a dark night should make him so
hot that the perspiration stood out all over his face, and the collar of
his shirt was soaked?

Why was it?--why was it? He puzzled and puzzled in a muddled way, but
seemed to get no nearer the solution. There was the light still coming
and going and smelling badly, and making him so hot that he felt as if
he could not breathe.

Then the solution came like a flash, which lit up his mind just as all
was black darkness; and in spite of the agony he felt as soon as he
moved, he start