"We don't have any stuff," said Lucy, who had a tendency to get picky when irritable.
"Well, make it sharp then."
A bellow came from the deck, and Jakey's head disappeared. Lucy and Wolf Boy heard him call, "Aye, Pa, they're coming. Aye, right now. Pronto!" He stuck his head down once more. He looked scared. "Get up that ladder or we'll all be fer it."
As the Marauder pitched and rolled in the waves, Lucy and Wolf Boy stumbled up the ladder and crawled onto the deck. They breathed in the fresh sea air in wonder - how was it possible that air could smell so good? And the light - how could it possibly be so bright? Lucy shaded her eyes and looked around, trying to get her bearings. She gasped. Rearing into the brilliant blue sky was a massive black column of a lighthouse, which seemed to grow from the rocks like an enormous tree trunk. Its foundation was rock, which gradually gave way to huge chunks of pitted granite covered in thick tar and encrusted with barnacles. As the lighthouse rose toward the sky, the granite was replaced by tar-covered bricks. Lucy, who was always fascinated by how things were made, wondered how anyone could possibly have built such a huge tower with the sea forever crashing about them. But it was the very top of the lighthouse that fascinated Lucy the most: It looked like the head of a cat. There were two brick-built triangles that looked to Lucy like ears and, strangest of all, there were two almond-shaped windows for eyes; from these came two beams of light so bright that Lucy could actually see them in the sunlight.
With a stomach-churning lurch, the Marauder dropped into a trough of a wave, the sun was blotted out by the lighthouse and a chill shadow fell across them. Next the swell took them so high that Lucy was looking straight at the seaweed-covered base of the lighthouse. Then the Marauder dropped like a stone into a trough of boiling water - and all the time the boat was rolling from side to side. Suddenly Lucy felt very, very sick. Just in time she rushed to the edge of the boat and threw up over the side. A bellow of laughter came from Skipper Fry, who was standing nonchalantly holding on to the tiller.
"Women an' boats," he chortled. "Useless!"
Lucy spat into the sea, then spun around, eyes blazing, "What did you - "
Wolf Boy had spent enough time in Lucy's company to know when she was about to explode. He grabbed her shoulder and hissed, "Stop it, Lucy."
Lucy glared at Wolf Boy. She did her angry-pony headshake, broke away from Wolf Boy's grasp and set off toward the skipper. Wolf Boy's heart sank. This was it. Lucy was about to get thrown overboard.
Jakey Fry liked Lucy even though she was rude to him and called him weevil-brain and bug-features. He saw what was coming and jumped in front of her.
"Lucy, I need yer help," he said urgently. "Yer strong. Throw us the rope, yeah?"
Lucy stopped impatiently. There was a desperate look in Jakey's eyes. "Please, Miss Lucy," Jakey whispered. "Don't make 'im uppity. Please."
Ten minutes later, with the help of Lucy - who turned out to be an accomplished rope thrower - the Marauder was tied up to two massive iron posts set into the rocks above a small harbor hewn from the rock at the foot of the lighthouse. Jakey Fry peered down at the boat, anxiously wondering if he had allowed enough rope. It was difficult to tell. Too much rope and the Marauder would drift onto the rocks, too little and she would be left dangling in the fall of the tide - and if he got it wrong either way, there would be trouble.
"Gettup that ladder," the skipper yelled at Lucy.
"What?" gasped Lucy, staring at the rusting iron ladder festooned in slime and seaweed, at the top of which Jakey Fry was anxiously hovering.
"You 'eard. Gettup that ladder. Now! "
"Go on, Lucy," said Wolf Boy, who was desperate to set foot on land once more, even if it was only a slimy rock in the middle of the sea. Showered by spray from the crashing waves below, Lucy scrambled up the ladder, closely followed by Wolf Boy and Skipper Fry. Thin Crowe was left to battle with four huge coils of rope, which he eventually succeeded in hauling up the ladder with the help of Jakey and Wolf Boy.
Led by Skipper Fry, they stumbled up a narrow path worn deep into the rock that wound toward the lighthouse. Wolf Boy's relief at being on solid ground was evaporating fast. At the end of the path he could see a rusty iron door set into the foot of the lighthouse and, as he stepped into the cold shadow cast by the lighthouse, his arms hurting from the weight of the rope he was being forced to carry, he felt as though he and Lucy were being marched into prison.
Skipper Fry reached the door first and beckoned to Thin Crowe impatiently. Thin Crowe dumped the rope and seized the small iron wheel set into the center of the door. He gave the wheel a vicious twist. For a few seconds nothing shifted except Thin Crowe's eyes, which bulged so much that Wolf Boy thought they might, with any luck, spring out of their sockets. And then, with a deep grinding sound from within the door, the wheel began to turn. Thin Crowe put his bony shoulder to the door and shoved. Inch by inch the rusty door screamed open slowly, and a breath of musty air flowed out to meet them.
"Get in," growled Skipper Fry. "Make it snappy." He gave Wolf Boy a shove but wisely left Lucy to go in under her own steam.
The inside of the lighthouse felt like an underground cavern. Rivulets ran down the slimy walls, and from somewhere came a hollow plink-plink of dripping water. High above them reared an immense void in which a fragile helix of metal steps clung nervously to the curved brick walls. The only light came from the half-open door, and even that was fast disappearing as Thin Crowe shoved it closed. With a hollow clang the door banged back into its metal frame, and they were plunged into darkness. Skipper Fry cursed and dropped his coil of rope with a thud. "How many times do I have to tell yer not to close the door until I lit the lamp, dung brain?" he demanded, noisily getting out his tinderbox and scraping at his flint, with little success.
"I'll do it, Pa," Jakey Fry offered anxiously.
"No yer won't. D'yer think I can't light a poxy little lamp? Get out of me way, idiot boy." The thump of Jakey being thrown against the wall made Lucy and Wolf Boy wince. Under the cover of the dark, Lucy edged toward the sound. She found Jakey and put her arm around him. Jakey tried not to snuffle.
Suddenly, from somewhere about halfway up the tower, Wolf Boy and Lucy heard the sound of a door slamming and then the ring of steel toecaps on iron stairs. Heavy footsteps began to clank their way down the steps, which reverberated and shook, carrying the sound all the way to the ground. Wolf Boy and Lucy craned their necks upward and watched a dim light circle high above them, growing slightly closer with every circuit.
Five long minutes later, Thin Crowe's twin stepped off the last step, and Skipper Fry at last managed to light the lamp. The flame flared up and illuminated the features of Fat Crowe, who was, despite the rolls of fat, uncannily like his brother. He shone his own lamp at Lucy and Wolf Boy.
"What they fer?" he growled in a voice indistinguishable from that of Thin Crowe.
"Nuffin useful," grunted his twin. "Yer ready, pig face?"
"Yeah, rat brain, more 'n ready. Drivin' me crazy, he is," Fat Crowe replied.
"Not fer much longer, hey hey." Thin Crowe chuckled. The glow from the lamp shone in the skipper's face, turning it a nasty yellow.
"Well, get a blinkin' move on then," he said. "And mind yer do it right. Don't want no evidence."