"Come along, come along!" he shouted impatiently.
M. Zermatt, Mr. Wolston and Ernest hurried up to him.
The shed under which the two guns were placed side by side had been burnt down during the night, and all that was left of it was a few ruins, which were still smoking. The flagstaff was split right down, and lay in the midst of a heap of half-burnt grass and brushwood. The trees, whose branches had been interlaced above the battery, were shivered right down to their roots, and the marks could be seen of flames that had consumed their upper branches.
The two guns were still upon their gun-carriages, which were too heavy for the gale to overturn them.
Ernest and Jack had brought quick-matches, and were also provided with several cannon-cartridges in order that they might be able to continue firing if they heard any reports from out at sea.
Jack, posted by the first gun, applied the light.
The match burnt right down to the touch-hole, but the charge did not go off.
"The charge has got damp," Mr. Wolston remarked, "and could not catch light."
"Let us change it," M. Zermatt replied. "Jack, take the sponge and try to clean out the gun. Then you can put a new cartridge in."
But when the sponge had been thrust into the gun, it went right down to the end of it, much to Jack's surprise. The old cartridge, which had been put in it at the end of the summer, was not there. It was the same with the second gun.