so that about half of their number
was thus unprovided for. Under these circumstances he felt that to
despatch one of the boats in expectation of either working the
Smeaton sooner up to the rock, or in hopes of getting her boat
brought to their assistance would, besides being useless, at once
alarm the workmen, each of whom would probably insist upon taking to
his own boat, and leaving the eight men of the Smeaton to their
chance. A scuffle might ensue, and he knew well that when men are
contending for life the results may be very disastrous.

For a considerable time the men remained in ignorance of terrible
conflict that was going on in their commander's breast. As they
wrought chiefly in sitting or kneeling postures, excavating the rock
or boring with jumpers, their attention was naturally diverted from
everything else around them. The dense volumes of smoke, too, that
rose from the forge fire, so enveloped them as to render distant
objects dim or altogether invisible.

While this lasted,--while the numerous hammers were going and the
anvil continued to sound, the situation of things did not appear so
awful to the only two who were aware of what had occurred. But ere
long the tide began to rise upon those who were at work on the lower
parts of the beacon and lighthouse. From the run of the sea upon the
rock, the forge fire was extinguished sooner than usual; the volumes
of smoke cleared away, and objects became visible in every direction.

After having had about three hours' work, the men began pretty
generally to make towards their respective boats for their jackets
and socks.

Then it was that they made the discovery that one boat was absent.

Only a few exclamations were uttered. A glance at the two boats and a
hurried gaze to seaward were sufficient to acquaint them with their
awful position. Not a word was spoken by anyone. All appeared to be
silently calculating their numbers, and looking at each other with
evident marks of perplexity depicted in their countenances. The
landing-master, conceiving that blame might attach to him for having
allowed the boat to leave the rock, kept a little apart from the men.

All eyes were turned, as if by instinct, to Mr. Stevenson. The men
seemed to feel that the issue lay with him.

The engineer was standing on an elevated part of the rock named
Smith's Ledge, gazing in deep anxiety at the distant _Smeaton_, in
the hope that he might observe some effort being made, at l