Summary

Louis Tracy The Pillar of Light

A truth is harder to swallow than a lie, all the time.
Up clattered Enid with the steaming beverage; Constance, the lantern-bearer, providing the rear-guard.
"I do believe it is blowing worse than ever," said Enid, striving desperately to be unconcerned. In reality, the angry wind was no longer able to behead the waves. With a rising tide and the gale assisting there would soon be a sea worthy of Turner in his maddest mood.
"Good gracious, dad," cried Constance, "how pale you are. And your forehead is wet. What have you been doing?"
Brand hastily mopped his face with a handkerchief.
Source: Gutenberg

Louis Tracy The Pillar of Light

No sturdy tug-boat was pouring smoke from her funnel and staggering towards the rock. Northwest and west the darkness was spreading and lowering.
He did not trouble to examine the reef. Its signs and tokens were too familiar to him. Its definite bellow or muttered threat was part of the prevailing influence of the hour or day. He had heard its voice too often to find an omen in it now.
"This time I must congratulate both of you," he said quietly.
"On what?" they cried in unison, shrill with unacknowledged excitement.
"Ladies seldom, if ever, pass a night on a rock lighthouse.
Source: Gutenberg

Louis Tracy The Pillar of Light

Since his first term of service on the rock the light had changed from an occulting to a fixed one.
"She is buried there, isn't she," the girl went on. "How strange that, amidst our many journeyings, we have never visited Brighton."
"If I were able to take you to her grave-side, I would not do it," said Brand. "I do not encourage morbid sentiments, even of that perfectly natural kind. Your mother, to you, Constance, is like Enid's to her, a dear but visionary legend. In a degree, it is always so between loved ones lost and those who are left.
Source: Gutenberg

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