And lightning in yon cloud,

  And hard the music, mariners,

  The wind is piping loud.

  The wind is piping loud, my boys!

  The lightning flashes free,

  While this hollow oak our palace is

  Our heritage the sea!”

  And just as the song drew to an end, a beam of white light shone through the fog.

  “I see it! I see it!” Digory shouted. “I see it! God save us, Master Henry, I see your light!”

  CHAPTER XXX: The Death Trap

  There it was! Glorious, glorious light! Rising out of the waves, the tower stood like some graceful, magical vision before them. Digory’s fear of the reef was now replaced with awe, awe for the amazing little tower that stood so brazen and so beautiful upon the rocks, showering them with her light. Digory began to laugh and cry at once.

  But as they drew closer to the lighthouse, the smile disappeared from his face. For many of the windows in the lantern room were smashed and broken. A wooden crane hung off the gallery, nearly split in two. The weather vane that crowned the tower was bent and dangling in the wind. But the most shocking sight of all was the large crack that was starting at the tower’s base and snaking up her side like a large, gaping wound.

  “May the heavens protect us,” Cobb Tomlin cried in a shaky voice. “She looks as if she’s ready to fall! Why, she’s no better than a death trap now!”

  It was then that the blackened sky opened up and sheets of rain began to whip across the deck. The old boatman quickly regained his composure and took the oars from Digory. Whatever courage they had, they needed an infinite amount more. Not only were they heading for a battered “death trap” of a lighthouse in a full-blown storm, but they were about to row the boat into the angry currents of the Eddystone Reef — the vicious reef that had taken his own grandfather’s life. Could a boy and an old boatman alone do what hundreds of sailors could not?

  White-knuckled, Digory clung to the side of the boat as Cobb Tomlin fought to keep them on course through the churning seas. Even the old boatman looked terrified when a mountain of water swelled underneath them and the boat stood on her stern. The boxes of candles strained against the ropes. They were caught in a cross sea! The stern rose and fell, crashing down with a wallop.

  Digory’s stomach lurched each time a wave tossed them up into the air and slapped them back down on the water, and he fought the nausea that overtook him. The winds shrieked and the rains beat down upon them as they inched closer and closer to the jagged red gneiss rocks that jutted up from the water below the lighthouse. Digory held fast to the sides that were icy cold and slippery with rain. Then, as if a guardian angel had taken them under her wing, a man appeared at the lighthouse door. Digory barely recognized the master as the wind whipped his long, dark hair around his head. The very sight of him alone on that rock in that ferocious sea set Digory in a panic. Master Henry made his way, slipping and sliding, down the steps that were cut into the rocks. Two men followed.

  “Come on, old girl, you can do it,” Cobb Tomlin called out to the boat as he skillfully steered her to the ledge landing. And then they were there.

  Master Henry threw Digory a rope and rushed to help him onto the steps. Cobb Tomlin tied down the boat while two workmen quickly unloaded the boxes of candles. The wind was so strong Digory had to fight to keep his grip on the rope as he let out a length to Cobb. Together they managed to make their way up to the lighthouse door as Master Henry guided them in.

  Once inside the tower’s circular chamber, they were met by the two bearded keepers, Connors and Matthews. James Bound helped Cobb Tomlin to a chair. Digory blinked as his eyes focused on the painted walls and fanciful gilded woodwork of the candlelit room. A spiral staircase with cherrywood railings rose from the center of the floor. But no amount of ornament could disguise the strong stink of seaweed and brine that was everywhere.

  Master Henry gripped Digory’s shoulders. “My God, Digory, what are you doing out here? You should not have come! You should never have come!”

  “I brought your candles, sir,” Digory said, startled by the change in the master’s face, which had always looked so calm and confident but was now drawn with worry.

  Digory watched as the door blew open and the wind tore in, nearly pulling the door from its hinges. The two workmen appeared with the candle boxes on their shoulders.

  “Oh, thank the Lord,” Master Henry said. “We are down to the wicks. Get them up to the lantern room at once!” He turned back to Digory. “I never meant for you to bring them out yourself.”

  “There was no one else,” Digory told him.

  “What good are candles now?” Connors said darkly. “The boy risked his life for naught.”

  “Not for naught,” Master Henry shouted, his voice trembling. “These candles will keep her lit.”

  “If the seas are rising high enough to take out her lantern windows, what’s to keep the waves from taking the whole bloody lighthouse down?” the keeper shot back.

  “We don’t know it was waves that took out the glass,” Master Henry countered. “It could have been gulls.”

  “And what of the crack in her side?” the other keeper asked. “Did a gull do that?”

  Digory stole a panicky look around the room.

  “We’ve the tools to repair the damage done,” Master Henry reminded them, his voice rising. “With luck the storm will pass and we’ll be home in five days’ time.”

  “You wish us to gamble our lives on luck?” Connors said, shaking his head. “I’ve worked as your keeper these many months now, but I’ll not die for the sake of a light. I say we leave her now.”

  “You’ve done a fine job, Connors. And I thank you for that. But if we do not repair the tower now, ’twill not last another season.” Master Henry tried once more. “Ships will go down. Lives will be lost.”

  “But surely you can see that the lighthouse is in no condition to go through another storm,” James Bound spoke up.

  “We’ve had waves come over the lantern, more than eighty feet high!” Connors burst out. “ ’Tis only a matter of time before she is taken down.”

  “Nay, she’ll hold,” Master Henry said stubbornly, running his hand over the mortared walls. “And I shall stay here to keep the light and to make repairs. But I will need help. I will triple any man’s wages who will stay on.” He pulled a handful of coins from his pocket and threw them on a table. “Who will stay and take this silver?”

  No one moved.

  “No amount of silver could tempt me to stay in this death trap,” a workman said.

  “Nor I,” said another.

  “I will stay with you, sir,” Digory said.

  “You cowards!” Master Henry shouted as he scooped the coins back up. “Go, then, but when you scurry back to your houses tonight, safe on shore, how will you look your wives in the eye, knowing that one boy was more fearless than the three of you put together?” He turned to Digory. “Come, lad, we’ve candles to light.”

  With his heart pounding, Digory followed the master to the staircase. If only he felt as fearless as Master Henry thought him to be. If only he could keep his teeth from chattering.

  “A year’s wages,” one of the workmen called after them. “I’ll stay for a year’s worth of wages.”

  “A year’s wages it is,” Master Henry said. “Carry up the boxes and be quick about it. Each candle will need to be replaced.” He took a rush lamp from the table.

  Digory followed the master up the dark circular stairwell past a richly decorated bedchamber with lustrous sky-blue walls trimmed with gilded woodwork. The chamber’s windows were covered with heavy wooden shutters that shook and rattled as if some angry giant were trying to get in.

  “There, you see,” Master Henry said, smiling triumphantly at the cozy room with its neatly made bed. “This chamber is as sound as the day it was built. You’ll get as good a night’s sleep here as in any lodging on Greyfriars Street.”

  Digory nodded, though he knew he’d never sleep a wink with the howl of the wind rattling those shutters and the sounds of the waves pounding against the tower walls. They left the bedchamber and continued up the circular stairway, around and around, coming out to a handsome stateroom with high plastered ceilings.

  But as the master raised his lamp higher, they could also see spidery veins of cracks spreading into wider fissures along the ceiling. Not only that, but they saw two chairs whose fine burgundy cushions were covered with a white plaster dust. Large chunks of plaster had fallen from the walls and now littered the room. A crystal wine decanter lay shattered into a thousand pieces on the floor.

  Master Henry’s silence was almost as loud as the wind that shrieked behind the shuttered windows. He set his lamp down on a table. “There must be something I can do,” he said aloud. “There must be some way to secure her.”

  A sudden crash of breaking glass sounded from above, followed by a ghostly whistle of wind.

  “Good God, the lantern!” Master Henry cried as he raced out of the chamber with Digory following behind.

  When they reached the open-air gallery, a blast of wind and rain put out their lamp and drove them back to the stairwell. The wind shrieked louder and louder as they rose, until they finally reached the lantern room.

  Digory stumbled back, blinking at the brightness. As his eyes adjusted to the glare, he was stunned by the sight of the magnificent glass lamp hanging from the center of the ceiling, ablaze in golden light. Sixty giant tallow candles flickered around the room. Digory could see that most of them were burned down to their wicks. And one by one, the candles went dark.

  “We came none too soon!” Master Henry cried out. “Hurry, Digory, take this lamp and help me to light the new candles!” He lit another rush lamp and handed it to Digory.

  Candle by candle, Master Henry and Digory lit the lantern to the crash of the waves and howls of the wind all around them. And as they lit one after the other, Digory felt the brightness of all that golden light to his very bones. He and the master had done it. They had kept the reef lit!

  CHAPTER XXXI: C’est Tout ou Rien

  Digory pressed his nose to a window in the lantern room. The waves were monstrous, and the ocean seemed to rise all around them. It was a terrifying sight, yet he couldn’t look away. Then something odd appeared: the flash of white sails coming out of the fog, dipping and diving through the choppy black waters. A ship!

  “Look, master!” Digory cried.

  “By God, they see our light!” Master Henry said. “And it’s guiding them away from the rocks!”

  The wind shrieked, and the tower seemed to sway. Digory looked at Master Henry, who was standing there beside him in all that beautiful golden light. If only the storm would stop. But the constant rattling of glass grew louder.

  “These blasted gales,” Master Henry said, inspecting a crack in a window. “It’ll take weeks to secure these things.”

  “The keeper thinks it unwise to stay,” Digory spoke up. “He says the damage to the tower is too great. Please, sir, please won’t you think about leaving with the others?”

  Master Henry looked pained. “There are repairs that need to be made if this tower is to continue to stand. I will not leave her now.”

  The sound of footsteps echoed up the stairs. Moments later, the keeper appeared at the door. “The boatman is anxious to cast off, sir,” he said as he entered the chamber.

  “I understand, Connors, but where is the log I instructed you to keep?” Master Henry asked, ignoring the nervous timber in the man’s voice.

  “Here, sir,” the keeper answered, reaching for a large book on a shelf. “I’ve taken notes on the weather and the waves, just as you requested.”

  “Excellent. Now if you would answer some other questions I have for you, it will help with the repairs,” Master Henry said, paging through the book.

  “But the storm, sir …” The keeper broke in, his blue eyes pleading. “There is no time….”

  “Yes, yes, I shall not keep you but a few moments longer,” Master Henry said. Then he turned to Digory. “Go down and tell the boatman that Mr. Connors will be there presently.”

  Digory took the lamp and headed back down the dark stairwell alone. He shuddered at the unearthly howls of the wind. He had grown up by the sea and was used to the strong winter gales, but this storm’s fury was unlike anything he’d ever heard before. At the bottom chamber he found James Bound and one of the workmen talking in hushed whispers.

  “Listen to it,” the workman said. “It sounds as if it’s come straight from the devil’s mouth! He’s mad to stay. Can you not reason with him?”

  But Bound shook his head. “I know Master Winstanley well enough by now. He’ll not be persuaded to leave. And in truth, ’twill be a miracle if any of us makes it back in this storm.”

  “I’ll take my chances with you and your boat,” the man told him. Digory could see the fear in his eyes.

  “We’d better leave now, for the storm is worsening,” James Bound called to Master Henry, who was coming down the stairs.

  There was an awkward silence. Everyone knew the danger that lay ahead for those leaving as well as those staying behind. Master Henry reached out to shake the keeper’s hand. “Godspeed, Connors,” he said. “You served the light well.”

  He turned to the boatman next. “I owe you much more than the silver I’ve paid you, James. When I get back to the White Owl I shall toast you properly.” He held out his hand to him.

  “I look forward to it, sir.” The boatman nodded.

  As they shook hands, the two men looked each other in the eye, knowing full well they might never see each other alive again. “See that the boy returns safely,” Master Henry added, motioning to Digory.

  “Me, sir?” Digory gasped.

  “Aye, lad, for there’s been a change of plan,” Master Henry told him. “You’re to return to shore.”

  “Without you?” Digory cried. “But you need me here. You said so yourself. We must make the repairs.”

  Master Henry smiled. “I’m afraid I will have to manage without you. But there is something else that you can help me with. That leather case of mine …”

  “It’s safe at the inn with Cubby,” Digory told him.

  “Good.” The master nodded wearily. “You must see that it gets back home, for it holds important documents that mustn’t be lost under any circumstances. You’re to keep the coin that’s inside for the coach ride back to Littlebury.”

  “But, sir,” Digory pleaded, his heart breaking. “Won’t you come back to shore with us? Please, sir. I beg you not to stay.”

  “Be a good lad and do as I ask,” Master Henry said gently but firmly. “You’ve done a man’s job already, bringing out the candles. But I must finish what I’ve begun. The lighthouse must be saved.”

  “Then let me stay here with you,” Digory said, the tears spilling down his face. “Don’t make me go without you. Please, sir, please don’t make me go!”

  The boatman opened the tower door and the wind tore in.

  “Will you not change your mind and come with us, sir?” Connors begged one last time.

  “Nay,” Master Henry replied. “For I’ve a job to do and I must stay and finish it all the way. C’est tout ou rien.”

  “French, sir?” The keeper frowned. “Don’t understand a word of it,” he muttered as he hurried for the door.

  “You’ll have to ask my apprentice someday,” Master Henry called after him.

  Digory flung himself into the master’s arms and Master Henry hugged him tightly one last time.

  “Please come back to the Magic House with me!” Digory sobbed.

  “Don’t you worry, son,” Master Henry told him. “I promised Mistress Elizabeth that I’d be back by Christmas, and, God willing, I shall keep my word. We’ll have us a grand feast then, hey?” The wind shrieked and there was another sound of breaking glass from above. Master Henry squeezed Digory’s shoulder. “Go on now, the boatman is waiting.”

  The voyage back to Plymouth was a raging blur of crashing waves, howling winds, and thunderous skies. It was as if all the furies of nature had joined forces to wreak havoc along the English coast. Miraculously, they managed to stay on course for hours. But as they neared the shore a wave hit them broadside, and Digory saw James Bound fall overboard!

  Thunder crashed overhead, while a loud creaking and cracking sounded from below. Digory screamed as the boards beneath his feet split apart and the icy water rushed up his legs. Suddenly he was thrashing and flailing to stay afloat in the sea! With each gasp for breath, his throat stung with salty water.

  Then a giant wall of water pounded him down, down, down. And all was black.

  CHAPTER XXXII: Unlucky to Be Alive

  When Digory next opened his eyes, he had no idea where he was or how he’d gotten there. He found himself warm and snug in a strange bed, under an old tattered quilt that smelled of salt, smoke, and fish oil. His head ached and his throat burned, and there was shooting pain in his knee. He struggled to get up out of the bed but nearly fell over.

  An old woman laid a wrinkled hand on his shoulder.

  “Rest, boy,” she told him, bringing a mug of snail tea to his lips. “You nearly drowned.”

  Digory tried to remember what had happened, but his mind drew a blank.

  “Where am I?” he said shakily, looking around the dimly lit room.

  “You’re in Plymouth Town, duck,” the old woman replied. “In Kip Finn the fish seller’s cottage. And there he be, old Kip himself, standing by the fire. Lucky to be alive, you are, lad.”

  “We’re all of us lucky to be alive after that evil storm,” Kip Finn agreed as he came and stood beside the bed. “Lost most of the tiles from our roof, we did! Never in all me seventy years ’ave I seen the sea and the sky in such a fury. They say there are hundreds of boats gone missing and bodies piled high along the quay. ’Twas a miracle they were able to pull you from the waves on such an evil night, that it was, lad.”