In the middle of the story, "Three Skeleton Key" by George G. Toudoze, the rats climb all over the lighthouse as the narrator, Itchoua, and Le Gleo rush to close all of the doors and windows to prevent the rats from getting in. At first, they cannot sleep, for they are always scared that the rats have found a way in. They soon find holes in several windows, and cover them with metal to prevent the rats from getting through. Le Gleo starts going crazy and having nightmares about the three skeletons from which the island got it's name dancing around him. From the descriptive details, Itchoua and the narrator star having them too. They soon decide not to light the lighthouse to try to attract help. This required much deliberation, because without the light to guide them, ships can easily get wricked at the expense of the three men's safety. Soon, the rats find a way through the metal, and the men are surrounded by deadly rats.
Oh no! The rats!
Quick! Seal the hole!
We barely had time to leap back, close the door leading onto the gallery, descend the stairs, and shut every window tightly. Luckily the door at the base of the light, which we never could have reached in time, was of bronze set in granite and was tightly closed.
That first night, the tension was so great that we could not sleep. Every moment, we felt that some opening had been made, some window given way, and that our horrible besiegers were pouring through the breach.
But we have to light the lantern! It's our job.
The morning of the fourth day, at early dawn, I saw the wooden framework of my window, eaten away from the outside, sagging inwards. I called my comrades and the three of us fastened a sheet of tin in the opening, sealing it tightly.
Oh no! The rats go in!
Then Le Gleo became morose and had nightmares in which he would see the three skeletons dancing around him, gleaming coldly, seeking to grasp him. His maniacal, raving descriptions were so vivid that Itchoua and I beganseeing them also.
There was only one thing left to do. After debating all of the ninth day, we decided not to light the lantern that night. This is the greatest breach of our service,
At two in the morning, while Itchoua was dozing in his room, the sheet of metal sealing his window gave way. The chief had just time enough to leap to his feet and cry for help, the rats swarming over him.