He was prepared for suspicion concerning his own actions; but Seth seemed rather to be defending himself from suspicion on the part of his helper.
"Humph!" The lightkeeper looked keenly at him for a moment.

Then he said: "Well, ain't there nothin' to do but stand around?
Gettin' pretty nigh to supper time, ain't it?
Put the kettle on and set the table." It was not supper time, but Brown obeyed orders.

Seth went to cooking.
He spoke perhaps three words during the culinary operations, and a half dozen more during the meal, of which he ate scarcely a mouthful.

After it was over, he put on his cap and went out, not to his usual lounging spot, the bench, but to walk a full half mile along the edge of the bluff and there sit in the seclusion of a clump of bayberry bushes and gaze stonily at nothing in particular.

Here he remained until the deepening dusk reminded him that it was time the lights were burning.
Returning, he lit the lanterns and sat down in the room at the top of the left-hand tower to think, and think, and think.
The shadows deepened; the last flush of twilight faded from the western sky; the stars came out; night and the black silence of night shrouded Eastboro Twin-Lights.