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Updated: May 27, 2025
Just before the rising sun, I had got up and put out the lamp, and was going to bed again, when there came thumps of the devil at the lower door. Well knowing that the captain had his own way of entering for he had spent many days in finding out all sorts of droll passages in the ruins I was quite seized; and as I hurried down, the thumps came again and great cries for the lighthouse-keeper.
A lighthouse-keeper was seated in his solitary watch-tower, speculating, doubtless, on the probable continuance of such a violent outbreak, while his family and mates accustomed to sleep in the midst of elemental war were resting peacefully in the rooms below, when one of the mighty waves suddenly appeared, thundered past, and swept the lighthouse with all its inhabitants away.
You have not much, but what you have is essential to the whole. The lighthouse-keeper on his rock sits in his solitude and watches his little flame. Why does he not let it die away as other lights in the distance die when the night comes on? Because it is not his light. He is its keeper, not its owner. The great Power that watches that stormy coast has set him there, and he must be true.
"And when I've finished lighting the lamp, trimming up things a bit," said the P.K., "I sit down like anybody else. Lots of people seem to forget that the lighthouse-keeper is not the coast-guard or the head of the crew of a life-saving station. They have their work to attend to, but we watch for fogs night and day.
I cannot imagine a more grievous death in life than the existence of a lighthouse-keeper in the Red Sea! Sunday, 12th. We passed through the Gate of Tears this morning the dismal, flat, and unprofitable island of Perim being scanned by me from the bathroom port, while exchanging an atmosphere of sticky salt air for an unrefreshing dip in sticky salt water.
The privileged reader screwed up his lamp, and solitary above the billowy roofs of the town, like a lighthouse-keeper above the sea, he turned to the pages of the story. 'It all begins, as I've told you, with the man called Brown, ran the opening sentence of Marlow's narrative. 'You who have knocked about the Western Pacific must have heard of him.
"I have always wanted to manage a baseball team and I may think I would rather do that." "Go on with you!" Sandy cried. "Next you'll be having yourself a lighthouse-keeper." Then he added wistfully: "But no matter what you are, laddie, dinna forget Crescent Ranch." Within two weeks Thornton, Mr. Clark, and Donald were back in Massachusetts, and the thread of Eastern life was once more taken up.
The lighthouse-keeper sat down again on his doorstep and faced the prospect of taking care of a homeless Mormon. It appeared to him that his wife had not warmly enough welcomed her or met the situation with that recklessness one needed on Beaver Island. The tabernacle began to burn lower, brands streaming away in the current which a fire makes.
When the brothers got into the carriage again to drive back to the town, the attaché said, "Do you know, Christian Frederick, I can't imagine a position more suitable to such a wreck as myself than that of lighthouse-keeper out here." "There is no reason you should not have it," answered his brother. "Nonsense! How could it be managed?" answered Richard, as he knocked the ashes off his cigar.
There is nothing so irritating as a half-fulfilled scandal, and when Richard Garman a short time afterwards calmly received the post of lighthouse-keeper at Bratvold, and lived there year after year without a sign of doing anything worthy of remark, each one in the little town felt himself personally affronted, and it was a source of wonder to all how little the Garmans seemed to realize what they owed to society.
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