After two days, they finally gave it up and started for Miami, where they arrived and reported the state of affairs.
The inspector came along, but found the two worthies sober, and attending strictly to their duties.
They explained how they had been attacked by a huge smuggling vessel bound for the North, and how, after a desperate fight, they finally had been overpowered, taken forcibly from their abode in the light, where they had been attending to their duties, and put ashore in the Bahamas.
They described how, after a tremendous exertion, they had managed to get back again, only to find two strangers in possession of the tower. Naturally, they treated them as trespassers and took charge. The light had been kept regularly ever since, and they had no fault to find with the job.
After listening to their tale, there was nothing to do but to leave them to their duties, for nothing could be found against them.
Their absence from the light would have enabled the inspector to give them their discharge, but they could prove they had not left of their own accord. The forepart of their story would necessarily remain in the dark, for they would not talk of it, and the crew of the Sea-Horse would rather have it kept quiet. Besides, it would be more than useless to try to find the vessel from their description. The tender steamed away for Miami to inform the authorities of the existence of the keepers.
"Virtue is usually triumphant," said the inspector to the judge, who ordered the release of the convicted prisoner. "But in this case there seems to be an exception."
"There are exceptions to every rule," quoted the judge wisely. "Light-keepers are rare birds—trouble will probably not happen again—I would therefore sentence them to life imprisonment in—well, I reckon there is no worse place than the Carysfort light."
"I don't know but what you are right," said the inspector.