“That’ll do, lad; don’t be too partickler,” said Jamie Dove.

The others gave a sigh of relief at the interruption, and Bremner continued—­

“There were always three keepers in the Eddystone after that.  Well, it was in the year 1755, on the 2nd December, that one o’ the keepers went to snuff the candles, for they only burned candles in the lighthouses at that time, and before that time great open grates with coal fires were the most common; but there were not many lights either of one kind or another in those days.  On gettin’ up to the lantern he found it was on fire.  All the efforts they made failed to put it out,’ and it was soon burned down.  Boats put off to them, but they only succeeded in saving the keepers; and of them, one went mad on reaching the shore, and ran off, and never was heard of again; and another, an old man, died from the effects of melted lead which had run down his throat from the roof of the burning lighthouse.  They did not believe him when he said he had swallowed lead, but after he died it was found to be a fact.

“The tower became red-hot, and burned for five days before it was utterly destroyed.  This was the end o’ the second Eddystone.  Its builder was a Mr. John Rudyerd, a silk mercer of London.

“The third Eddystone, which has now stood for half a century as firm as the rock itself, and which bids fair to stand till the end of time, was begun in 1756 and completed in 1759.  It was lighted by means of twenty-four candles.  Of Mr. Smeaton, the engineer who built it, those who knew him best said that ’he had never undertaken anything without completing it to the satisfaction of his employers’.

“D’ye know, lads,” continued Bremner in a half-musing tone, “I’ve sometimes been led to couple this character of Smeaton with the text that he put round the top of the first room of the lighthouse—­’Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it’; and also the words, ‘Praise God’, which he cut in Latin on the last stone, the lintel of the lantern door.  I think these words had somethin’ to do with the success of the last Eddystone Lighthouse.”

“I agree with you,” said Robert Selkirk, with a nod of hearty approval; “and, moreover, I think the Bell Rock Lighthouse stands a good chance of equal success, for whether he means to carve texts on the stones or not I don’t know, but I feel assured that our engineer is animated by the same spirit.”

When Bremner’s account of the Eddystone came to a close, most of the men had finished their third or fourth pipes, yet no one proposed going to rest.

The storm without raged so furiously that they felt a strong disinclination to separate.  At last, however, Peter Logan rose, and said he would turn in for a little.  Two or three of the others also rose, and were about to ascend to their barrack, when a heavy sea struck the building, causing it to quiver to its foundation.