On bleak Nichol Island, off Nova Scotia's east coast, a lone white house stands above the rocky shoreline. One day last fortnight Lightkeeper James Richard Hutt, 33, picked up his shotgun, set off down the shore to add some ducks and rabbits to the family larder. By dusk he had not returned. His slight, dark-haired wife, Pauline, climbed the steep steps of the lighthouse tower, and lit the twin wicks herself.
As the evening wore on, Pauline Hutt grew frightened. Finally she bundled up her nine-year-old son and together they began a frantic search in the biting zero wind and darkness....
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