"Could it have been an accident, sir?"
"In normal times," answered the Colonel, impressively, "I would have said yes; now I say, no! Three of the guns, numbers one, six and eight, in this battery"—he jerked his head towards the south—"went wrong suddenly. A cleaning squad was at work on number one, and discovered that the gun could not be handled at all. It was just after daylight in the morning. You know how perfectly these six- and nine-inch guns are swung?"
John nodded.
"A child can swing them like a toy cannon. My own boy's often done it," went on the Colonel. "Well, on this particular morning the guns would not elevate. Just lay inert, like dead masses of metal. Everything was in order, both in the gun-chamber and engine house. But the guns wouldn't budge, and for an hour this whole upper fort was out of action. If the enemy had tried to rush us at that time, we could have done nothing! I was not quite so jumpy as now. Not quite so many things had happened to arouse my suspicions, and I blamed Ewins."
"Who is Ewins, sir?"
"Our chief gunner."
"Did Ewins discover what was wrong?" John asked.
"Neither Ewins nor any of us," answered the Colonel. "What happened is a mystery to us all. Ewins was in bed when the thing occurred, and, knowing how jealous he is of his gun, one of the cleaning squad called him. He came out of his hut half dressed. I hear from Parkson that he was in a blind rage, and felt his gun all over, as a mother may feel for a bruise on her baby; but he could make nothing of it."
"I'd rather like to see Ewins," said John, "if it can be managed."
"He is on duty now," responded the Colonel. "Come along and make his acquaintance. But, for Heaven's sake, don't run away with any idea that Ewins is a wrong 'un. Ewins is the best gunner on the South Coast, one of the old rule of thumb school. He knows nothing of trajectories or curves, and hardly ever looks at the wind gauge. But he has made ninety-eight per cent. at a submarine target doing nine knots."