"The poor keeper did what he could to put out the fire; he after a while succeeded in awakening the other two keepers, and they all tried to throw water on the flames, but as it had to be brought seventy feet high, they soon found their efforts unavailing, and, in addition, one of the keepers, the one who discovered the fire, was disabled by a curious accident.
"While he was looking upwards, endeavoring to see the effect of the water he had thrown, a shower of molten lead fell on his head, neck, and shoulders—part of it ran inside his shirt-collar and burned him badly; he also felt an intense burning inside, and supposed that part of the lead had passed down his throat.
"The three men gave up the unequal struggle and descended from room to room, as they were driven by the heat and melting metal.
"Early in the morning the fire was seen on shore, and a philanthropic gentleman fitted out a fishing boat which arrived at the light-house at 10 a.m. The fire had then been burning eight hours; the light keepers had been driven from the tower, and, to avoid the falling timbers and red-hot bolts, had taken refuge in the hole or cave on the east side of the rocks under the iron ladder, near the landing.
"The men were stupefied, and the wind being from the east made a landing extremely hazardous, if not impracticable. They, however, were saved by the crew first anchoring the large boat, then a small boat was rowed toward the rock, paying out a rope which was attached to the large boat; when near enough to the rock a heaving-line was thrown to the men. Each light keeper in turn fastened the rope around his waist, and, jumping into the sea, was hauled into the boat.
"As the fishing-boat could do nothing to quell the flames, it returned to Plymouth to land the keepers; one, as soon as he got on shore, ran away, it is supposed in a panic; the one burned by the melted lead was sent to his own home for medical attendance; he was ninety-four years old, but remarkably active considering his age. He told the doctor that he had swallowed the molten lead, and that he could not be cured unless it was removed. He lived until the twelfth day, when he suddenly expired—the doctor opened his stomach, and found therein a solid oval piece of lead weighing more than seven ounces."
"I don't understand how a tower could be burned," Sidney said thoughtfully as he ceased reading, and Captain Eph replied:
"If you look back a page or two, Sonny, you'll find that the one burned was built wholly of timber on the outside, and so was the top part of the inside. This tower couldn't burn flat, bein' all stone, but the rooms would have been pretty well cleaned out if you an' Sammy hadn't worked mighty lively. We came off a good deal better than those poor fellows did, an' Uncle Zenas can thank his lucky stars that it was melted fat instead of lead which fell on him."
"Suppose the inside of the tower had burned," Sidney continued, seemingly finding a certain fascination in speculating upon the possibilities. "We might have been forced to stay here a long while before any one came to take us off."
"Ay, Sonny, that is true, but even then we wouldn't have been as badly off as other light-house keepers and builders have been. There's a story in that same book about the Smalls light-house, off the west coast of Wales. Find that an' read it, so's we can see how much we've got to be thankful for, even if we are disabled an' in a kitchen-hospital."