But the mate was strong. He had come to the light expecting trouble. With a mighty effort he forced the keeper upward, and, amid a fierce snarling and threshing about, he soon engaged in a desperate struggle.
The "howler," hearing the uproar, sprang to the rescue, and joined in the fray just as the sailors, following their trusty mate, climbed through the door. In less than five minutes the keepers were lashed fast, and were being lowered down through the door into the waiting boat below.
What remained of their spoil was also found and lowered after them; and in the bright light of the tropic sunrise the Sea-Horse put to sea, leaving the great tower of the Carysfort light to the westward.
For nearly a week no light was shown from the tower. Strangely enough, no one reported the light out.
The sixth day a sponger, sailing past at dark, noticed the absence of light, and went to the tower to see what was wrong.
He found it deserted, and, being a very poor man, he made his boat fast to the piles and took possession, enjoying the fare and taking care of the lantern in proper style for several days.
All might have gone well with him for several months, but for the fact that the supply-steamer was due, and arrived before he thought it time to make a getaway.
Finding the keepers missing, and no account made for them by the inhabitant, the officers promptly accused him of murdering them, and forthwith took him aboard the vessel to be carried ashore and tried. He was promptly convicted of manslaughter and sentenced to imprisonment for life.
Meanwhile, the Sea-Horse, having made the Bahamas, put the thieving keepers ashore to shift for themselves. After vainly trying to get passage back to their home, they finally managed to get a small boat and put to sea, to make the two hundred miles or more to the lighthouse.