I was one of the first to run; but I came back with a can of water, and held it to Mr Frewen.
“Can you do anything with that, sir?” I said.
“No, my lad. Quite impossible to reach it effectually.”
I stood staring at the barricade and its openings for a few moments, and then an idea struck me. I had often seen my father’s gun cleaned, and when the barrels were detached from the stack, taken them up to look through them, binocular fashion, to see whether they were clean inside.
“Take off the barrels from that gun!” I said excitedly.
“What for?” cried Mr Frewen; but he did that which was asked all the same, and handed the barrels to me.
“What are you going to do?” whispered the captain.
“One minute, sir, and I’ll show you,” I said. “Let me come there, Mr Denning.”
That gentleman altered his position a little, so that I could reach through the opening and let the ends of the barrels rest upon the deck, close to the powder, which I could just see scattered about the flooring.
Directly after, I had raised my can and was carefully trickling the water down through one of the barrels with such good effect that the explosive grains were either saturated or borne away.