mped away into the closet
below--which he called his room--laid himself carefully away upon
his old blankets, and I mounted to the lantern. There--the hour
of sundown having come--I lighted the lamps, and awaited my time.
That was still some hours off; I was to do nothing until midnight.
Meanwhile, I laid myself down to take a nap. I had promised
watchfulness, but it was hardly necessary in the beginning of the
night. The wicks were then fresh, and it was not likely that any
accident could happen. It was only toward the end of the night, when
the wicks might become incrusted or the reflectors dimmed, that
especial care was needed.

I awoke again about midnight, the hour appointed for the commencement
of my feat. The sky had clouded over, and not a star was to be seen.
All the better, indeed, for the experiment; for now there was no light
to be seen in any direction, except where down the coast glimmered the
Beacon Ledge Beacon--now faintly coming around the side, then glowing
for a second like the mouth of a distant furnace, as its full focus of
reflectors was pointed directly at me, then fading away, and so, for
an instant, entirely disappearing, as it turned slowly toward the
south. With the thick bank of clouds had come a cold wind from the
north, premonitory of an approaching storm, though it might be days
before it reached us--the only change to be now noted being the
somewhat heavier swell of the surf, rolling up with a dull, sullen
roar along the curve of the rock-bound shore.

I prepared for action. As I sat in the lantern, the great brazen
frame of polished reflectors swung around, once in each minute, within
a few inches of the side. Beneath was the projecting handle of a
crank, or lever, by pressing upon which the revolution could be
instantly arrested. Stooping down, I could sit at ease, with my head
clear from any contact with the lamps, and in that position could have
the lever-handle within easy reach.

Waiting for a moment until the reflectors pointed directly toward
Beacon Ledge, I pressed upon the crank, and thereby suspended the
revolution. Thus inert and motionless I held the machinery for a full
minute, and then, lifting the rod, allowed the circuit to recommence,
and gazed anxiously toward the other lighthouse. For a moment, no
response; but then, as its reflectors came slowly around and pointed
toward me, they, too, ceased in their motion for a full minute. With
that my heart exulted. My signa