next to the body for more than an
hour. Then suddenly, I remembered,--The Light!--I only just had time to
climb up to light the lantern--it was already getting dark....

"What a night, monsieur! The sea and the wind, they just didn't sound
like they usually do. All the time somebody seemed to be calling to me
from down the stairway.... I became frenzied; my mouth dried. But you
couldn't have made me go down there again.... Oh no! I was too scared
of the dead body. However, in the small hours, some of my courage
returned. I went down and carried my mate back to his bed, covered him
over with a sheet, said a short prayer, and then ran to raise the alarm.

"Unfortunately, the sea was too heavy; I shouted as loudly as I could,
again and again, but to no avail, nobody came.... So, I was alone in
the lighthouse with poor Tcheco, and for God knows how long. I was
hoping to be able to keep him close to me until the boat came, but
after three days that became impossible.... What should I have done?
Carried him outside? Buried him? The rock was too hard and there are
murders of crows on the island. It was a shame to leave a Christian to
them. And then I decided to take him down to one of the lodges in the
lazaretto.... That sad duty lasted a whole afternoon and, yes, it took
some courage.... Look here, Monsieur, even today, when I go down to
that part of the island through an afternoon gale, I feel that the dead
man is still there, on my shoulders...."

Poor old Bartoli! Sweat ran down his forehead just thinking about it.

* * * * *

And so, our meals passed in long conversations about the lighthouse,
and the sea, with tales of shipwrecks, and Corsican bandits.... Then,
as night fell, the keeper of the first watch lit his hand-lamp, took
his pipe, flask, and a red-edged, thick volume of Plutarch, which was
the sum total of the _Sanguinaires'_ library, and went down out of
sight. A moment later, there was a crash of chains, pulleys, and heavy
weights as the clock was wound up.

While this was going on, I went to sit outside on the terrace. The sun,
already well down, hurried its descent into the water, dragging the
whole skyline with it. The wind freshened; the island turned violet. In
the sky a big bird passed slowly near me; it was the eagle homing to
the Genoese tower.... Gradually, a sea mist got up. Soon, nothing could
be seen except a white ridge of sea-fog around the island. Suddenly, a
great floo