“Hold, Bill, a moment,” he cried, “don’t open the door till we’ve put the light out, and we’d best take a six-shooter a-piece, for we don’t quite know how many friends we may have to receive.” “Ten to one it’s some of those thieving scoundrels from Gunnerstone, come to see if they can catch us asleep in order to play tricks with the lights, but they’ll find we’re up to their little games.” Seth and Bill hastily pulled on their rough pea-jackets, invested their heads in their sou-westers, and, having looked at their revolvers to see that they were properly loaded, put out the lamp and opened the door. As they did so a dark object slid away from before it and was lost in the gloom. “That cove’s been listening through the key-hole,” whispered Bill to his companion. “Well, he didn’t hear much good of himself,” replied Seth; and then he added in a louder tone, “Now then, you skulks, come out and let’s see what you’re made of. I’ve got a nice taste of cold lead for each of you.” “Two can play at that game, Seth Lawrence,” answered a deep voice from out of the darkness, “look to yourself.” There was a flash, a report, and Bill Marston was standing by himself. “You murdering dogs,” he cried, firing in the direction whence the voice had come, “good luck send this through one of your ugly heads.” This wish seemed to have been fulfilled, for there was a yell of some one in pain. Meanwhile Charlie had run out at the first sound of fire-arms, and found his uncle lying on the ground. Seth whispered hoarsely to Bill when he fell:— “Get back into the lighthouse, lad, their game is to douse the lights, and get some ship ashore in this storm; leave me here, they can’t do worse with me. Get thee back, get thee back, or there will be more lives lost before the morning.” But Bill was not to be thus defeated, he would not go and leave his mate alone, but remained resolutely by him, prepared to fall by his side if necessary. “Charlie, lad, go you inside,” he said hurriedly to the boy, “take you care of the lights, stick to them to the last, and die rather than give in.” To hear was to obey; Charlie ran inside the lighthouse, closed the door, and turned the key. Not a minute too soon, for a moment after a strange hand was laid upon the latch, and a rough voice called for admission. He was startled for a moment, and his heart thumped against his side; but then he thought of his Uncle Seth, and how he would have behaved under like circumstances, while Bill Marston’s words rang in his ears: “Stick to them to the last, and die rather than give in.” In an instant fear was forgotten, and he was prepared to fight to the last, come what might. This he knew, that he had to contend with enemies who would show him no mercy. They were bent on extinguishing the lights, and they would not stop at murder if it were necessary to secure the successful prosecution of their nefarious enterprise.