with this solemn, intermittent roar of the sea was the
continuous clink of picks, chisels, and hammers, and the loud clang
of the two forges; that on the beacon being distinctly different from
the other, owing to the wooden erection on which it stood rendering
it deep and thunderous. Torches and forge fires cast a glare over
all, rendering the foam pale green and the rocks deep red. Some of
the active figures at work stood out black and sharp against the
light, while others shone in its blaze like red-hot fiends. Above all
sounded an occasional cry from the sea-gulls, as they swooped down
into the magic circle of light, and then soared away shrieking into
darkness.

"Hard work's not easy," observed James Dove, pausing in the midst of
his labours to wipe his brow.

"True for ye; but as we've got to arn our brid be the sweat of our
brows, we're in the fair way to fortin," said Ned O'Connor, blowing
away energetically with the big bellows.

Ned had been reappointed to this duty since the erection of the
second forge, which was in Ruby's charge. It was our hero's hammer
that created such a din up in the beacon, while Dove wrought down on
the rock.

"We'll have a gale to-night," said the smith; "I know that by the
feelin' of the air."

"Well, I can't boast o' much knowledge o' feelin'," said O'Connor;
"but I believe you're right, for the fish towld me the news this
mornin'."

This remark of Ned had reference to a well-ascertained fact, that,
when a storm was coming, the fish invariably left the neighbourhood
of the rock; doubtless in order to seek the security of depths which
are not affected by winds or waves.

While Dove and his comrade commented on this subject, two of the
other men had retired to the south-eastern end of the rock to take a
look at the weather. These were Peter Logan, the foreman, whose
position required him to have a care for the safety of the men as
well as for the progress of the work, and our friend Bremner, who
had just descended from the cooking-room, where he had been
superintending the preparation of supper.

"It will be a stiff breeze, I fear, to-night," said Logan.

"D'ye think so?" said Bremner; "it seems to me so calm that I would
think a storm a'most impossible. But the fish never tell lies."

"True. You got no fish to-day, I believe?" said Logan.

"Not a nibble," replied the other.

As he spoke, he was obliged to rise from a rock on which he had
seated himself, because of a