from being carried
forcibly against the man whom they sought to save.

"Take the steering-oar, Ruby; you are the best hand at this," said
Wilson.

Ruby seized the oar, and, notwithstanding the breach of the seas and
the narrowness of the passage, steered the boat close to the rock at
the proper moment.

"Starboard, noo, stiddy!" shouted John Watt, who leant suddenly over
the bow of the boat and seized poor Strachan by the hair. In another
moment he was pulled inboard with the aid of Selkirk's stout arms,
and the boat was backed out of danger.

"Now, a cheer, boys!" cried Ruby.

The men did not require urging to this. It burst from them with
tremendous energy, and was echoed back by their comrades on the rock,
in the midst of whose wild hurrah, Ned O'Connor's voice was
distinctly heard to swell from a cheer into a yell of triumph!

The little rock on which this incident occurred was called
_Strachan's Ledge_, and it is known by that name at the present day.

CHAPTER XXV

THE BELL ROCK IN A FOG--NARROW ESCAPE OF THE _SMEATON_

Change of scene is necessary to the healthful working of the human
mind; at least, so it is said. Acting upon the assumption that the
saying is true, we will do our best in this chapter for the human
minds that condescend to peruse these pages, by leaping over a space
of time, and by changing at least the character of the scene, if not
the locality.

We present the Bell Rock under a new aspect, that of a dense fog and
a dead calm.

This is by no means an unusual aspect of things at the Bell Rock, but
as we have hitherto dwelt chiefly on storms, it may be regarded as
new to the reader.

It was a June morning. There had been few breezes and no storms for
some weeks past, so that the usual swell of the ocean had gone down,
and there were actually no breakers on the rock at low water, and no
ruffling of the surface at all at high tide. The tide had about two
hours before overflowed the rock, and driven the men into the beacon
house, where, having breakfasted, they were at the time enjoying
themselves with pipes and small talk.

The lighthouse had grown considerably by this time. Its unfinished
top was more than eighty feet above the foundation; but the fog was
so dense that only the lower part of the column could be seen from
the beacon, the summit being lost, as it were, in the clouds.

Nevertheless that summit, high though it was, did not yet project
beyond the reach of the s