THE WRECKERS LAMP.

Tun boys found Egloshayle House the most remarkable dwelling they had ever seen. It would be difficult to imagine an abode more unlike the ordinary town house to which they were accustomed. It stood at the head of a rocky gorge, or chine, as it would be called in the south of England, through which a swift, narrow stream made its way to the sea.

The house consisted of two parts, one modern, one very old. The modern rooms had large windows and faced a bright flower-garden, with a gravelled drive leading to the stately entrance. The old part lay behind and extended almost to the edge of the gorge, which it seemed to overhang. Here the rooms were low, the roof had deep eaves which sheltered a whole colony of swallows, and ivy grew thickly about the small-paned windows.

A curious little tower rose at one side. The boys' mother told them that in the old days a lamp had always burned at night in the window of this tower, giving a light which could be seen far out at sea. The boys asked why this was no longer done, and she said she was afraid the lamp had been no good.

It was said that a former dweller at Egloshayle had used it as a treacherous beacon to lure vessels on to the deadly rocks below. That was in the old wrecking days, when men believed that all that the sea brought to their shore was their lawful prey, and instead of seeking to save shipwrecked sailors, sought rather to hasten their doom that they might enrich themselves by the spoil that the waves cast up.

"It is much better there should be no light in the tower," Mrs. Bryden said, "than that men should mistake it for the light at the entrance to Trevethick harbour and steer their vessels accordingly."

"It should show a red light," said Duke; "that means danger, and when the sailors saw it, they would know they must keep away."

"Ah, yes," said his mother; "then it would be a useful warning. It would be a terrible thing to show a light that would lead men to destruction."

"Noel," said Duke to his brother, on the night of their arrival, just as they were about to fall asleep, in the bedroom which their mother had prepared for them next to her own, "I wish it was not Sunday to-morrow. We shall not be able to bathe, or to paddle, and I do want to see what the sands are like."

"Oh, I'm glad it'll be Sunday," said Noel, "for we shall have mother with us all day."

They were both so tired from their long journey that this was the last word said ere sleep overcame them.

The boys did not wake till a late hour the next morning. Then, as they rushed to their window, which looked towards the sea, it was a disappointment to find that a fine, driving mist hid the cliffs, and the air felt almost as chill as winter. But by the time they had finished breakfast, which was rather a long meal, since they had so many questions to ask their mother, and she had so much to say to them, the sun was beginning to shine through the mist.

They walked with their mother to an interesting old church, set in the midst of the green downs. By the time the service was over the sun had conquered the clouds, and in brilliant sunshine they took their way home along the cliff path.

The boys could hardly contain themselves for joy as they bounded over the soft, springy turf or gazed down on the blue sea, fringed with foam wherever it touched the land, and the rugged brown cliffs, tinged in places with streaks of rust-colour, which their mother told them marked the presence of iron. Here and there huge rocks stood detached from the cliffs, and the waves surging fiercely against them seemed possessed by an angry desire to bring down their pride.

Mrs. Bryden felt some qualms of fear as she warned her children not to go too near the edge of the cliff. It was a place where a boy's high spirits and contempt of fear might easily betray him into danger; but she foresaw that she must harden herself to accept some risk if she would not spoil her boys' pleasure or prevent their gaining proper courage and self-control.

"Listen to me, boys," she said. "I want you to enjoy a good holiday here; but I cannot always be with you. My duties will oblige me often to leave you to yourselves; but I dare not let you go beyond the garden alone unless you will promise me to be careful and not do things of which you know I should not approve."

"You, Duke, are old enough to understand when there is danger which you ought to avoid, and I shall make you responsible for Noel's safety. You are not to let him climb into dangerous places. Remember that he is younger and weaker than you, and things that you could attempt with safety might prove too much for him. Will you promise me?"

"Yes, mother," said Duke; "but we can bathe, can't we?"

"Not alone," said his mother; "there is a good bathing beach at a little distance, where it is safe to bathe. I will take you there to-morrow morning if it is fine. When I am unable to go with you, I will try to find some one to take my place."

"Why can't I bathe alone?" asked Duke. "I have learned to swim in the swimming-bath at school, and I can do six strokes quite easily."

"I am glad to hear it," said his mother with a smile; "but the water off this coast is very different from that in the swimming-bath. There is often a strong undercurrent too, and it would take more than six strokes to save you, if that carried you out of your depth."

"Mother," said Noel, as they came in sight of Egloshayle House, "who sleeps in those rooms with the ivy almost covering the windows?"

"No one," said Mrs. Bryden; "those rooms are all unoccupied, with the exception of the one next the tower, which Mr. Alan uses as a kind of a study."

"Is Mr. Alan the one who is a miser?" asked Noel.

"A miser!" repeated his mother in surprise. "Who has been telling you such a thing about him?"

Noel told her, pretty correctly, the talk he had heard on the coach.