beacon; so come along."

Like many a night that begins well, that particular night ended ill.
Even while the man spoke, a swell began to rise, and, as the tide had
by that time risen a few feet, an occasional billow swept over the
rocks and almost washed the feet of Bremner as he made his way over
the ledges. In five minutes the sea was rolling all round the foot of
the beacon, and Bremner and his friend were safely ensconced on the
mortar-gallery.

There was no storm that night, nevertheless there was one of those
heavy ground swells that are of common occurrence in the German
Ocean.

It is supposed that this swell is caused by distant westerly gales in
the Atlantic, which force an undue quantity of water into the North
Sea, and thus produce the apparent paradox of great rolling breakers
in calm weather.

On this night there was no wind at all, but there was a higher swell
than usual, so that each great billow passed over the rock with a
roar that was rendered more than usually terrible, in consequence of
the utter absence of all other sounds.

At first Bremner watched the rising tide, and as he sat up there in
the dark he felt himself dreadfully forsaken and desolate, and began
to comment on things in general to his dog, by way of inducing a more
sociable and cheery state of mind.

"Pup, this is a lugubrious state o' things. Wot d'ye think o't?"

Pup did not say, but he expressed such violent joy at being noticed,
that he nearly fell off the platform of the mortar-gallery in one of
his extravagant gyrations.

"That won't do, Pup," said Bremner, shaking his head at the creature,
whose countenance expressed deep contrition. "Don't go on like that,
else you'll fall into the sea and be drownded, and then I shall be
left alone. What a dark night it is, to be sure! I doubt if it was
wise of me to stop here. Suppose the beacon were to be washed away?"

Bremner paused, and Pup wagged his tail interrogatively, as though to
say, "What then?"

"Ah! it's of no use supposin'," continued the man slowly. "The beacon
has stood it out all winter, and it ain't likely it's goin' to be
washed away to-night. But suppose I was to be took bad?"

Again the dog seemed to demand, "What then?"

"Well, that's not very likely either, for I never was took bad in my
life since I took the measles, and that's more than twenty years ago.
Come, Pup, don't let us look at the black side o' things, let us try
to be cheerful, my dog. Hallo