This was so serious that Ruhet would have stormed at the gunners. But he remembered that none of his guns had been fired. Besides, he had no time. Another piece was clipped from the bow. Then, as quickly, another from the stern.
The ship now began to roll backward and forward, like a rocking-horse.
Out on the sea, apparently from the little craft, came the voice, so much greater than she: “Aha, ha, ha! Aha, ha, ha! Tonans ahoy! When you have had enough say so, and we’ll stop! Otherwise we’ll chop you into kindling.”
“Well, by my mother’s carpet slipper!” cried Ruhet, “it can’t be any one on this ship!”
He looked skyward, then over the side, then off at the innocent toy. Nothing seemed to account for it.
Nicht Wahr left the useless wheel and came forward.
“Nicht Wahr,” whispered Ruhet, “Nicht thinks that toy has had something to do with this magic.”
“Sire, I told you—”
“Wahr, you’re a liar,” said the bluff Ruhet, wrathfully. “You didn’t know anything to tell me. You were never in Byzantium in your dinked life! You said you would get it for me. Well, why don’t you do so instead of letting it get us—a little at a time? Now let me see if you are good for anything. I no longer want it. Destroy it. And quickly. Don’t be too polite. Shoot to kill—or, at least, to make holes. Push the Tonans right up on her—so that you won’t miss her!”