“Like this,” cried Mr Preddle, eagerly, stooping down to apply the cartridge to the mouth of the little brass gun.
“Sure you did it like that, sir?”
“Yes; certain.”
“Then no wonder it didn’t go off. Why, that’s the way to sarve one o’ them breeches-loaders. You don’t put a cartridge ball first into the muzzle of a gun.”
“Why, no!” cried Mr Preddle, colouring like a girl. “How stupid!”
“And we shall have a job to unload her,” growled Bob.
But his attention was directly after taken up by the management of the ship, for the wind held on, and by night we had left the boats down below the horizon line, invisible to us even from the mast-head.
That proved an anxious time, for the wind sank soon after sunset, and a careful watch had to be kept, both for the boats, and against our enemy the fire, which kept on showing that there was still some danger in the hold.
The next morning dawned with the boats in sight again, and their crews were evidently straining every nerve to overtake us, for it was once more a dead calm.
We were more hopeful though, for a couple more applications of the hose had pretty well extinguished the fire; the cannon had been unloaded and properly charged; and, best of all, Mr Frewen’s patients were all better, and Mr Brymer sufficiently well to sit up in a chair, and be brought on deck to take his place as captain, to my intense relief.