Conclusion.  
Facts are facts; there is no denying that. They cannot be controverted; nothing can overturn them, or modify them, or set them aside. There they stand in naked simplicity; mildly contemptuous alike of sophists and theorists.
 
Immortal facts! Bacon founded on you; Newton found you out; Dugald Stewart and all his fraternity reasoned on you, and followed in your wake. What would this world be without facts? Rest assured, reader, that those who ignore facts and prefer fancies are fools. We say it respectfully. We have no intention of being personal, whoever you may be.
 
On the morning after Ruby was cast on the Bell Rock, our old friend Ned O’Connor (having been appointed one of the lighthouse-keepers, and having gone for his fortnight ashore in the order of his course) sat on the top of the signal-tower at Arbroath with a telescope at his eye directed towards the lighthouse, and became aware of a fact,—a fact which seemed to be contradicted by those who ought to have known better.
 
Ned soliloquised that morning. His soliloquy will explain the circumstances to which we refer; we therefore record it here. “What’s that? Sure there’s something wrong wid me eye intirely this mornin’. Howld on,” (he wiped it here, and applying it again to the telescope, proceeded); “wan, tshoo, three, four! No mistake about it. Try agin. Wan, tshoo, three, four! An’ yet the ball’s up there as cool as a cookumber, tellin’ a big lie; ye know ye are,” continued Ned, apostrophising the ball, and readjusting the glass. “There ye are, as bold as brass—av ye’re not copper—tellin’ me that everythin’s goin’ on as usual, whin I can see with me two eyes (one after the other) that there’s four men on the rock, whin there should be only three! Well, well,” continued Ned, after a pause, and a careful examination of the Bell Rock, which being twelve miles out at sea could not be seen very distinctly in its lower parts, even through a good glass, “the day afther to-morrow’ll settle the question, Misther Ball, for then the Relief goes off, and faix, if I don’t guv’ ye the lie direct I’m not an Irishman.”
 
With this consolatory remark, Ned O’Connor descended to the rooms below, and told his wife, who immediately told all the other wives and the neighbours, so that ere long the whole town of Arbroath became aware that there was a mysterious stranger, a fourth party, on the Bell Rock!
 
Thus it came to pass that, when the relieving boat went off, numbers of fishermen and sailors and others watched it depart in the morning, and increased numbers of people of all sorts, among whom were many of the old hands who had wrought at the building of the lighthouse, crowded the pier to watch its return in the afternoon.
 
As soon as the boat left the rock, those who had “glasses” announced that there was an “extra man in her.”
 
Speculation remained on tiptoe for nearly three hours, at the end of which time the boat drew near.
 
“It’s a man, anyhow,” observed Captain Ogilvy, who was one of those near the outer end of the pier.
 
“I say,” observed his friend the “leftenant”, who was looking through a telescope, “if—that’s—not—Ruby—Brand—I’ll eat my hat without sauce!”
 
“You don’t mean—let me see,” cried the captain, snatching the glass out of his friend’s hand, and applying it to his eye. “I do believe!—yes! it is Ruby, or his ghost!”
 
By this time the boat was near enough for many of his old friends to recognise him, and Ruby, seeing that some of the faces were familiar to him, rose in the stern of the boat, took off his hat and waved it.
 
This was the signal for a tremendous cheer from those who knew our hero; and those who did not know him, but knew that there was something peculiar and romantic in his case, and in the manner of his arrival, began to cheer from sheer sympathy; while the little boys, who were numerous, and who love to cheer for cheering’s sake alone, yelled at the full pitch of their lungs, and waved their ragged caps as joyfully as if the King of England were about to land upon their shores!
 
The boat soon swept into the harbour, and Ruby’s friends, headed by Captain Ogilvy, pressed forward to receive and greet him. The captain embraced him, the friends surrounded him, and almost pulled him to pieces; finally, they lifted him on their shoulders, and bore him in triumphal procession to his mother’s cottage.
 
And where was Minnie all this time? She had indeed heard the rumour that something had occurred at the Bell Rock; but, satisfied from what she heard that it would be nothing very serious, she was content to remain at home and wait for the news. To say truth, she was too much taken up with her own sorrows and anxieties to care as much for public matters as she had been wont to do.
 
When the uproarious procession drew near, she was sitting at Widow Brand’s feet, “comforting her” in her usual way.
 
Before the procession turned the corner of the street leading to his mother’s cottage, Ruby made a desperate effort to address the crowd, and succeeded in arresting their attention.
 
“Friends, friends!” he cried, “it’s very good of you, very kind; but my mother is old and feeble; she might be hurt if we were to come on her in this fashion. We must go in quietly.”
 
“True, true,” said those who bore him, letting him down, “so, good day, lad; good day. A shake o’ your flipper; give us your hand; glad you’re back, Ruby; good luck to ’ee, boy!”
 
Such were the words, followed by three cheers, with which his friends parted from him, and left him alone with the captain.
 
“We must break it to her, nephy,” said the captain, as they moved towards the cottage.
 
    “‘Still so gently o’er me stealin’,
 
    Memory will bring back the feelin’.’
 
“It won’t do to go slap into her, as a British frigate does into a French line-o’-battle ship. I’ll go in an’ do the breakin’ business, and send out Minnie to you.”
 
Ruby was quite satisfied with the captain’s arrangement, so, when the latter went in to perform his part of this delicate business, the former remained at the door-post, expectant.
 
“Minnie, lass, I want to speak to my sister,” said the captain, “leave us a bit—and there’s somebody wants to see you outside.”
 
“Me, uncle!”
 
“Ay, you; look alive now.”
 
Minnie went out in some surprise, and had barely crossed the threshold when she found herself pinioned in a strong man’s arms! A cry escaped her as she struggled, for one instant, to free herself; but a glance was sufficient to tell who it was that held her. Dropping her head on Ruby’s brea............